#52 Stories--Story # 48

How many of your elementary school teachers can you remember? Can you put them in order? Did you have a favorite? A least favorite?

I remember Mrs. Owzarzak was my first grade teacher. I recall that she had some sons that were a few years older than me and also went to El Roble school.

I can't remember my second grade teacher's name, at least not right now.

In third grade I had Mrs. Bach and Mr. Miller for math.  Mrs Bach was short and round and seemingly the meanest teacher ever.  But it was the summer after her class that I was able to visit Washington DC --with the meanest teacher ever--and another 50 or so kids.  Crazy.  She must not have been too bad after all.

Mrs. Midtgaard was my fourth grade teacher and I liked her immensely.  She spelled her last name with two As, just like we did too. Her kids participated in 4H also--though in the Rucker 4H club instead of our own Sunset 4H. I knew they had animals and lived in the country.  And she used a really COOL green felt tip pen to grade our papers.

In fifth and sixth grade I moved to Brownell Fundamental school.  It was similar to charter schools today, but I left the kids I rode the bus with for the years prior and had known all the time I lived in Gilroy.  I don't recall the teacher's names that I had there, but I remember the school itself was not a good fit for me socially.  I tried, but didn't ever feel like I fit in.  I felt the kids felt and truly believed they were better than any other school. I knew too many people at my old school that were good people to believe that could possibly be true.

Instead of staying at Brownell for 7th and 8th grade, I remember begging my mom to let me go to South Valley Junior High. Once I knew that would be the case, I was told by the Brownell kids that I'd get beat up by the Mexican kids every day. I knew that wasn't going to be the case, as many many friends from my old school--and now many kids I knew from across town now--would be attending SVJH. I really enjoyed my two years there and it made me feel VERY confident as I started at GHS when it was time for 9th grade.

I'm Done

It is the last week of school for the year, and I have only one more year of public school to worry about with my own children.  I've spent a lot of years--a decade and a half, in fact--worrying about my own kids as well as any others that went to the local public school with mine.  I spent a few years worrying and working for all the children that went to school anywhere in our town and another couple working and worrying for all children in our district.

But I'm done.

Last night at Costco I ran across a book by Glenn Beck that feeds the conspiracy theorists' rhetoric against the Common Core.  I'm done fighting that fight. 

In a purely selfish move, I'm going to say that I'm thrilled that my younger child, The Boy, is the final grade level that has nothing to do with the CC "roll out" in our district.  He avoided it by being a year ahead in math and his English grade level stuff, while some elements have been integrated in but none of the required pieces are demanded until the year after his.  And I'm not sorry about that at all.

I have volunteered in my kids' school for 15 years now.  I have sat on committees of concerned parents every time I've been asked.  I have worked with wonderful teachers--who aren't paid NEARLY what they deserve to do what is asked of them by society at large, much less the district they work for--and still they see the positive in the most recent changes that have taken the conservative right to grab their pitchfork and torches and demand change.  I've seen administrators try to jump through the needs legal and district mandated hoops to help their teachers do what they do best--TEACH.

You see, the change happens every 4-8 years.  Very similar to certain presidential administration changes.  That is not a coincidence.  Every national leader KNOWS the system is broken, but not a single one will put the money where his/her mouth is to make things right enough for the best to happen for our kids.  But that is another topic completely.  Educational theories come and go.  Good teachers are coming less often, and the bad ones hang on for too long.  But changes to the system/curriculum/methodology change on a regular basis.  and good teachers take what works, fit it to their subject matter, try to breathe life into their topic with more energy and enthusiasm than a three ring circus ringmaster for the attention deficit, virtual world believing, entitlement driven students of today.

Today, I'm ranting about the anti-Common Core fanatics.  I was sorry to see Glenn Beck is now their poster boy.  I don't listen to his show but I admired him for not backing down on his religious beliefs in light of national attention and criticism--especially during the Prop 8 debacle in California some years ago.  But now, the Tea Partiers must keep buying his books so he has found a new sublect to appease they and take their money.

For me, I'm just done.  I'm done trying to explain what I have seen and heard and done in my local schools.  I'm done trying to help others understand the reasoning for the changes.  And I'm definitely done making head-banging-against-the-bricks attempts to persuade the conspiracy theorists to see the situation as I do.  That opposition is too strong.  And I'm just one person.  And I'm tired of fighting.

Like Chief Joseph, Nez Pierce leader in the late 1800s, said "on this spot I'll fight no more forever".  It is just too exhausting.

Professional Chaperone

If one must be paid to qualify their work as professional, and that payment may be in food and tickets, than I am a Professional Math Club Chaperone!

A few weeks ago, I joined my darling friend who teaches calculus at our high school on a field trip for her Math Club students--the Mathletes.  considering that The Girl was the Math Club president her senior year, I figured that made me the Dowager Countess of Math Club.

Their activity took them to the BYU campus for a performance of Calculus:The Musical.  Yes.  This is a real show.

Actually, the show was hilarious.  And, considering I didn't get even a fraction of the math related humor (see that math pun I just made?), I thought that was a pretty good sign.

Two talented women who either understand math really well, or have memorized the script to the point they made me believe they understood math really well, sang songs about the evolution and creation of higher math as we know it set to modern-ish pop songs.

I giggled at the pop culture side notes and the musicality of the tunes which told the story of Sir Isaac Newton and his adversaries itn eh math world as modern math was developed.

Please don't diss the show based on my review, here.  Remember, the math comprehension was WAY over my head.  But the kids were eating it up!

My favorite part of the chaperoning gig with this group is this group!  How troublesome can Mathletes be?!?  These are some of the best kids in the school.  The adore their teacher.  the appreciate what it means for her to take them to these sorts of fun activities. And they have simple fun together.  All in all, a joyful group to accompany on a bus.

and it was also quite interesting being back on campus after not really spending much time there since graduating myself.  Boy, it has changed.  But then, so have I, I guess.

Me and Bronze Cosmo chillaxin on the bench at BYU.

Teachers Who Love to Teach Kids, Teach Kids to Love Learning

I foudn this by way of an old friend who is a teacher...having several friend who are professional teachers, this made me stop and be grateful, again, for the many wonderful teachers I have had in my life and in my kids' lives.  I know they don't have a "3 month vacation" every summer, because many attend conferences to improve themselves and their brush up on some skills to help MY kids improve.  They think about how to keep the kids' attention, help them see the relationship between the bookwork they are teaching them and the real world applications of it.  So I, for one, don't think everyone can do their jobs...and a few of them probably shouldn't be doing that job...but for the vast majority who take on the responsibility of teaching kids in public education, they do it professionally and with great care.  And for that I thank them all!

The Hardest Job Everyone Thinks They Can Do

By Dennis Hong, September 13, 2010 6:30 am

This piece was inspired by a heated discussion I had with a man who believes that teachers have an easy job. Please feel free to share it with others if you agree with the message.


I used to be a molecular biologist. I spent my days culturing viruses. Sometimes, my experiments would fail miserably, and I’d swear to myself in frustration. Acquaintances would ask how my work was going. I’d explain how I was having a difficult time cloning this one gene. I couldn’t seem to figure out the exact recipe to use for my cloning cocktail.

Acquaintances would sigh sympathetically. And they’d say, “I know you’ll figure it out. I have faith in you.”
And then, they’d tilt their heads in a show of respect for my skills….

Today, I’m a high school teacher. I spend my days culturing teenagers. Sometimes, my students get disruptive, and I swear to myself in frustration. Acquaintances ask me how my work is going. I explain how I’m having a difficult time with a certain kid. I can’t seem to get him to pay attention in class.

Acquaintances smirk knowingly. And they say, “well, have you tried making it fun for the kids? That’s how you get through to them, you know?”

And then, they explain to me how I should do my job….

I realize now how little respect teachers get. Teaching is the toughest job everyone who’s never done it thinks they can do. I admit, I was guilty of these delusions myself. When I decided to make the switch from “doing” science to “teaching” science, I found out that I had to go back to school to get a teaching credential.

“What the f—?!?,” I screamed to any friends willing to put up with my griping. “I have a Ph.D.! Why do I need to go back to get a lousy teaching credential?!?”

I was baffled. How could I, with my advanced degree in biology, not be qualified to teach biology?!
Well, those school administrators were a stubborn bunch. I simply couldn’t get a job without a credential.

And so, I begrudgingly enrolled in a secondary teaching credential program.

And boy, were my eyes opened. I understand now.

Teaching isn’t just “making it fun” for the kids. Teaching isn’t just academic content.

Teaching is understanding how the human brain processes information and preparing lessons with this understanding in mind.

Teaching is simultaneously instilling in a child the belief that she can accomplish anything she wants while admonishing her for producing shoddy work.

Teaching is understanding both the psychology and the physiology behind the changes the adolescent mind goes through.

Teaching is convincing a defiant teenager that the work he sees no value in does serve a greater purpose in preparing him for the rest of his life.

Teaching is offering a sympathetic ear while maintaining a stern voice.

Teaching is being both a role model and a mentor to someone who may have neither at home, and may not be looking for either.

Teaching is not easy. Teaching is not intuitive. Teaching is not something that anyone can figure out on their own. Education researchers spend lifetimes developing effective new teaching methods. Teaching takes hard work and constant training. I understand now.

Have you ever watched professional athletes and gawked at how easy they make it look? Kobe Bryant weaves through five opposing players, sinking the ball into the basket without even glancing in its direction. Brett Favre spirals a football 100 feet through the air, landing it in the arms of a teammate running at full speed. Does anyone have any delusions that they can do what Kobe and Brett do?

Yet, people have delusions that anyone can do what the typical teacher does on a typical day.

Maybe the problem is tangibility. Shooting a basketball isn’t easy, but it’s easy to measure how good someone is at shooting a basketball. Throwing a football isn’t easy, but it’s easy to measure how good someone is at throwing a football. Similarly, diagnosing illnesses isn’t easy to do, but it’s easy to measure. Winning court cases isn’t easy to do, but it’s easy to measure. Creating and designing technology isn’t easy to do, but it’s easy to measure.

Inspiring kids? Inspiring kids can be downright damned near close to impossible sometimes. And… it’s downright damned near close to impossible to measure. You can’t measure inspiration by a child’s test scores. You can’t measure inspiration by a child’s grades. You measure inspiration 25 years later when that hot-shot doctor, or lawyer, or entrepreneur thanks her fourth-grade teacher for having faith in her and encouraging her to pursue her dreams.

Maybe that’s why teachers get so little respect. It’s hard to respect a skill that is so hard to quantify.
So, maybe you just have to take our word for it. The next time you walk into a classroom, and you see the teacher calmly presiding over a room full of kids, all actively engaged in the lesson, realize that it’s not because the job is easy. It’s because we make it look easy. And because we work our asses off to make it look easy.

And, yes, we make it fun, too.

Teacher Humor

I know it is summertime, officially now, but this was too funny not to share.  Enjoy, friends:

Teachers Who Got the Last Laugh

I Agree, Whole Heartedly

As school ends lit week, I want to share a little article I saw on facebook.  I do not know Bo Wright, but I firmly agree with the sentiments expressed:

Bo Wright

I freely admit it. I've taken teachers for granted. Sure, as a kid, you wanted the ones that weren't too hard on you when you screwed up, or maybe the ones who never noticed when you did.

As a parent, you merely hope they will turn your children into the smartest kids in town. We look at state rankings of schools and hope ours is smarter than that dumb school down the street. Because, by God, my kid needs to have a good job someday so I'm not supporting them till they're 35.
 
I'll admit it. When I get my kid's report cards, or test scores, or whatever, I congratulate my kids for the good grades, and question the teachers about the bad ones.
 
Then, it hit me.
 
When your 4 year old, who's never been more than 8 feet away from you is dropped off at school for the first time, and you're at work all day stressing about it, the teacher is the one with him, making sure he's ok.
When your house is just so loud from your 2 or 3 kids being cooped up all summer, and you can't wait for the house to be quiet again, the teacher is the one who happily receives them.
 
When a kid is having problems at home, the teacher is the one that comforts them and gives them a sense of normalcy.
 
When you get a call that the school is on lockdown, because of whatever craziness is going on in the world at that time, the teacher is the one who is there to comfort them.
 
When an EF-5 tornado is zeroed in on your kid's school, and you are 10 miles away, helpless and hopeless to reach them in time, the teacher is the one who makes sure they are in a safe place.
 
When that same tornado, or even a crazy person with a gun, enters the school, and attempts to take the life of your child, and you wish you were there to jump in the way, the teacher is the one who does.
 
This is for all the teachers who I ever had, and every teacher my kids ever had, or will ever have. You may have never had to take a bullet for me, or protect my child from a falling wall, but it wasn't until now that I realized, you totally would have.
 
I apologize for never treating you with the proper respect. The same respect we give our fireman and our policeman, should have been given to you.
 
Thank you for everything you ever did, and everything you were in position to do, but never had to.
Good job, teach.

Article To Share, Again

This was too good to let pass without sharing!  See if you don't agree with her at the end.

Why Parents Need to Let Their Children Fail

By Jessica Lahey (an English, Latin, and writing teacher in Lyme, New Hampshire. She writes about education and parenting for The New York Times and on her site, Coming of Age in the Middle).  From inShare102 Jan 29 2013, 8:41 AM ET 

A new study explores what happens to students who aren't allowed to suffer through setbacks.

Thirteen years ago, when I was a relatively new teacher, stumbling around my classroom on wobbly legs, I had to call a students' mother to inform her that I would be initiating disciplinary proceedings against her daughter for plagiarism, and that furthermore, her daughter would receive a zero for the plagiarized paper.

"You can't do that. She didn't do anything wrong," the mother informed me, enraged. 

"But she did. I was able to find entire paragraphs lifted off of web sites," I stammered. 

"No, I mean she didn't do it. I did. I wrote her paper."

I don't remember what I said in response, but I'm fairly confident I had to take a moment to digest what I had just heard. And what would I do, anyway? Suspend the mother? Keep her in for lunch detention and make her write "I will not write my daughter's papers using articles plagiarized from the Internet" one hundred times on the board? In all fairness, the mother submitted a defense: her daughter had been stressed out, and she did not want her to get sick or overwhelmed.

In the end, my student received a zero and I made sure she re-wrote the paper. Herself. Sure, I didn't have the authority to discipline the student's mother, but I have done so many times in my dreams. 

While I am not sure what the mother gained from the experience, the daughter gained an understanding of consequences, and I gained a war story. I don't even bother with the old reliables anymore: the mother who "helps" a bit too much with the child's math homework, the father who builds the student's science project. Please. Don't waste my time. 

The stories teachers exchange these days reveal a whole new level of overprotectiveness: parents who raise their children in a state of helplessness and powerlessness, children destined to an anxious adulthood, lacking the emotional resources they will need to cope with inevitable setback and failure.

I believed my accumulated compendium of teacher war stories were pretty good -- until I read a study out of Queensland University of Technology, by Judith Locke, et. al., a self-described "examination by parenting professionals of the concept of overparenting."

Overparenting is characterized in the study as parents' "misguided attempt to improve their child's current and future personal and academic success." In an attempt to understand such behaviors, the authors surveyed psychologists, guidance counselors, and teachers. The authors asked these professionals if they had witnessed examples of overparenting, and left space for descriptions of said examples. While the relatively small sample size and questionable method of subjective self-reporting cast a shadow on the study's statistical significance, the examples cited in the report provide enough ammunition for a year of dinner parties. 

Some of the examples are the usual fare: a child isn't allowed to go to camp or learn to drive, a parent cuts up a 10 year-old's food or brings separate plates to parties for a 16 year-old because he's a picky eater. Yawn. These barely rank a "Tsk, tsk" among my colleagues. And while I pity those kids, I'm not that worried. They will go out on their own someday and recover from their overprotective childhoods. 

What worry me most are the examples of overparenting that have the potential to ruin a child's confidence and undermine an education in independence. According to the the authors, parents guilty of this kind of overparenting "take their child's perception as truth, regardless of the facts," and are "quick to believe their child over the adult and deny the possibility that their child was at fault or would even do something of that nature." 

This is what we teachers see most often: what the authors term "high responsiveness and low demandingness" parents." These parents are highly responsive to the perceived needs and issues of their children, and don't give their children the chance to solve their own problems. These parents "rush to school at the whim of a phone call from their child to deliver items such as forgotten lunches, forgotten assignments, forgotten uniforms" and "demand better grades on the final semester reports or threaten withdrawal from school." One study participant described the problem this way: 

I have worked with quite a number of parents who are so overprotective of their children that the children do not learn to take responsibility (and the natural consequences) of their actions. The children may develop a sense of entitlement and the parents then find it difficult to work with the school in a trusting, cooperative and solution focused manner, which would benefit both child and school.

These are the parents who worry me the most -- parents who won't let their child learn. You see, teachers don't just teach reading, writing, and arithmetic. We teach responsibility, organization, manners, restraint, and foresight. These skills may not get assessed on standardized testing, but as children plot their journey into adulthood, they are, by far, the most important life skills I teach. 

I'm not suggesting that parents place blind trust in their children's teachers; I would never do such a thing myself. But children make mistakes, and when they do, it's vital that parents remember that the educational benefits of consequences are a gift, not a dereliction of duty. Year after year, my "best" students -- the ones who are happiest and successful in their lives -- are the students who were allowed to fail, held responsible for missteps, and challenged to be the best people they could be in the face of their mistakes. 

I'm done fantasizing about ways to make that mom from 13 years ago see the light. That ship has sailed, and I did the best I could for her daughter. Every year, I reassure some parent, "This setback will be the best thing that ever happened to your child," and I've long since accepted that most parents won't believe me. That's fine. I'm patient. The lessons I teach in middle school don't typically pay off for years, and I don't expect thank-you cards.

I have learned to enjoy and find satisfaction in these day-to-day lessons, and in the time I get to spend with children in need of an education. But I fantasize about the day I will be trusted to teach my students how to roll with the punches, find their way through the gauntlet of adolescence, and stand firm in the face of the challenges -- challenges that have the power to transform today's children into resourceful, competent, and confident adults.

Just For The "T" In PTSA

Our High School PTSA did a luncheon for our faculty today...as part of our membership drive with them.  As each one sat down with their plate full of sandwich, pasta salad, chips, watermelon, macaroni salad, and a water bottle I'd come along with a membership sign up envelope and tell this is was their "side of guilt" with lunch.  Most laughed with me about it, but I am sure some probably believe that.  Oh well.  We had plenty sign up today with us.  That might have more to do with the  free Taco Amigo combo meal coupon and free Frazil coupon they were given if they would sign up today.  Whatever it takes.

Dang, They're Good!

This morning I had the chance ot sit on a panel for the Utah Association of Secondary School Principals  to select Utah's Secondary Assisant Principal of the Year.  I was the parent representative.  We interviewed three nominees--who were all fabulous, by the way.  These administrators care about the kids in their schools.  They care about their emotional, adacemic, familial, and general well being.  They crusade against bullying.  They investigate technology that will aid the teachers in the classrooms and then seek grants to fund it. They collaberate with others schools' administrators to find best practices to impletment or improve.  They support wonderful, dedicated, occassionally frazzled teachers.  And parents.  And students.

They were astonishingly good at what they do.  And what they do--all three were junior high level assisant prinicpals--is not ever easy.  But they each mentioned that they love what they do.  They love the kids they serve.  And they wouldn't do anything else.

I'm so lucky to work with and know so many of those kind of people right here in my little world.

The Best PTA Gig EVER

Today finished out a fabulous Teacher Appreciation Week at our junior high school.  Our faculty and staff have been celebrated all week long with a) lunch brought in after a tremendous local restaurant donated it, b) another restaurant donated brownies and tartlets for desserts another day, and c) yet another donated fabulously tasty rolls an honey butter for part of a lunch treat on another day. 
Today's pièce de résistance was the delivery of gift baskets created and donated for each teacher by parents of students who signed up to help.  With all the imagination and support the PTA families could provide, there were some terrific basket brought in.  And I was part of the little group that got to deliver them to the teachers in their classrooms.

Best. PTA job. Ever.

I have always imagined that the best job in America would be the florist's delivery guy.  He is there to make some one's day, or surprise them, or tell them someone loves them, or that they are really, really wonderful.  Delivering the teacher's baskets was a little like being the florist's delivery guy for a day.

One teacher said, with tears in her eyes, "Oh, this is too much! Thank you!"

Another said, and this is a direct quote: "Dynamite!!"

Yet from others I heard, "Holy cow!!" or  "Terrific!" or  "You just made my day!"

It was so fun to respond with, "Well, it is teacher appreciation week and you are certainly appreciated at our school!"

Of course, I can't take credit for the baskets themselves--well, I did put together one.   But I saw each of them as we sorted them for "delivery routes" and they indeed were terrific and dynamite!

How nice that we can celebrate the great teachers (who do so much for our kids every day) one week in the Spring when the promise of Spring Break is now over, the state core and end of year testing looms in the near future, and springtime hormones are kicking into high gear for the perpetually pubescent students in 7th, 8th and 9th grades.  We probably should at least feed these good teachers once a week or so until school's out!

Back to School Time

The following essay was written by fourth grade teacher in Florida, Jamee Miller. She wrote it because "I was just getting so enraged because there was such ignorance from the people attacking teachers,” says Miller. “Especially these misconceptions about what it is we can actually control as educators.”

As a PTA volunteer, I see into teachers' classrooms, principal's offices, and district adminitrator's board rooms. As a member of a school community council I see a panel of dedicated teachers who work along side their principals to achieve the best possible outcome for students in that school. As a parent I see many other parents who have completely abdicated their role as an advocate for their child. And yet others who believe their child is always the exception--above the rules, untouched by his own choices, and entitled to more than she has earned herself.

Ms. Miller is one of the thousands of unsung heroes in our educational system. That system is broke but not becuase the vast majority of teachers have given up on any child, or becaseu they chose teaching as their professional knowing they could make a positive difference in the lives of their students.

Her words are apropo for this time of year as we begin to think of sending kids back to class, or teachers husling to prepare not only their physical classroom space but the state core cirriculum they teach and must certainly comply with throughout the year.

Nothing gets my ire up like negative talk and teacher bashing. Just don't go there with me. And unless you are willing to put your money where your mouth is by volunteering time, donating supllies, or voting consistently for educational iomprovements, I will not listen to your whining and pouting.



I am a teacher in Florida.

I rise before dawn each day and find myself nestled in my classroom hours before the morning commute is in full swing in downtown Orlando. I scour the web along with countless other resources to create meaningful learning experiences for my 24 students each day. I reflect on the successes of lessons taught and re-work ideas until I feel confident that they will meet the needs of my diverse learners. I have finished my third cup of coffee in my classroom before the business world has stirred. My contracted hours begin at 7:30 and end at 3:00. As the sun sets around me and people are beginning to enjoy their dinner, I lock my classroom door, having worked 4 hours unpaid.

I am a teacher in Florida.

I greet the smiling faces of my students and am reminded anew of their challenges, struggles, successes, failures, quirks, and needs. I review their 504s, their IEPs, their PMPs, their histories trying to reach them from every angle possible. They come in hungry—I feed them. They come in angry—I counsel them. They come in defeated—I encourage them. And this is all before the bell rings.

I am a teacher in Florida.

I am told that every student in my realm must score on or above grade level on the FCAT each year. Never mind their learning discrepancies, their unstable home lives, their prior learning experiences. In the spring, they are all assessed with one measure and if they don’t fit, I have failed. Students walk through my doors reading at a second grade level and by year’s end can independently read and comprehend early 4th grade texts, but this is no matter. One of my students has already missed 30 school days this year, but that is overlooked. If they don’t perform well on this ONE test in early March, their learning gains are irrelevant. They didn’t learn enough. They didn’t grow enough. I failed them. In the three months that remain in the school year after this test, I am expected to begin teaching 5th grade curriculum to my 4th grade students so that they are prepared for next year’s test.

I am a teacher in Florida.

I am expected to create a culture of students who will go on to become the leaders of our world. When they exit my classroom, they should be fully equipped to compete academically on a global scale. They must be exposed to different worldviews and diverse perspectives, and yet, most of my students have never left Sanford, Florida. Field trips are now frivolous. I must provide new learning opportunities for them without leaving the four walls of our classroom. So I plan. I generate new ways to expose them to life beyond their neighborhoods through online exploration and digital field trips. I stay up past The Tonight Show to put together a unit that will allow them to experience St. Augustine without getting on a bus. I spend weekends taking pictures and creating a virtual world for them to experience, since the State has determined it is no longer worthwhile for them to explore reality. Yes. My students must be prepared to work within diverse communities, and yet they are not afforded the right to ever experience life beyond their own town.

I am a teacher in Florida.

I accepted a lower salary with the promise of a small increase for every year taught. I watched my friends with less education than me sign on for six figure jobs while I embraced my $28k starting salary. I was assured as I signed my contract that although it was meager to start, my salary would consistently grow each year. That promise has been broken. I’m still working with a meager salary, and the steps that were contracted to me when I accepted a lower salary are now deemed “unnecessary.”

I am a teacher in Florida.

I spent $2500 in my first year alone to outfit an empty room so that it would promote creative thinking and a desire to learn and explore. I now average between $1000-2000 that I pay personally to supplement the learning experiences that take place in my classroom. I print at home on my personal printer and have burned through 12 ink cartridges this school year alone. I purchase the school supplies my students do not have. I buy authentic literature so my students can be exposed to authors and worlds beyond their textbooks. I am required to teach Social Studies and Writing without any curriculum/materials provided, so I purchase them myself. I am required to conduct Science lab without Science materials, so I buy those, too. The budgeting process has determined that copies of classroom materials are too costly, so I resort to paying for my copies at Staples, refusing to compromise my students’ education because high-ranking officials are making inappropriate cuts. It is February, and my entire class is out of glue sticks. Since I have already spent the $74 allotted to me for warehouse supplies, if I don’t buy more, we will not have glue for the remainder of the year. The projects I dream up are limited by the incomprehensible lack of financial support. I am expected to inspire my students to become lifelong learners, and yet we don’t have the resources needed to nurture their natural sense of wonder if I don’t purchase them myself. My meager earning is now pathetic after the expenses that come with teaching effectively.

I am a teacher in Florida.

The government has scolded me for failing to prepare my students to compete in this
technologically driven world. Students in Japan are much more equipped to think progressively with regards to technology. Each day, I turn on the two computers afforded me and pray for a miracle. I apply for grants to gain new access to technology and compete with thousands of other teachers who are hoping for the same opportunity. I battle for the right to use the computer lab and feel fortunate if my students get to see it once a week. Why don’t they know how to use technology? The system’s budget refuses to include adequate technology in classrooms; instead, we are continually told that dry erase boards and overhead projectors are more than enough.

I am a teacher in Florida.

I am expected to differentiate my instruction to meet the needs of my 24 learners. Their IQs span 65 points, and I must account for every shade of gray. I must challenge those above grade level, and I must remediate those below. I am but one person within the classroom, but I must meet the needs of every learner. I generate alternate assessments to accommodate for these differences. My higher math students receive challenge work, and my lower math students receive one-on-one instruction. I create most of these resources myself, after-hours and on weekends. I print these resources so that every child in my room has access to the same knowledge, delivered at their specific level. Yesterday, the school printer that I share with another teacher ran out of ink. Now I must either purchase a new ink cartridge for $120, or I cannot print anything from my computer for the remainder of the year. What choice am I left with?

I am a teacher in Florida.

I went to school at one of the best universities in the country and completed undergraduate and graduate programs in Education. I am a master of my craft. I know what effective teaching entails, and I know how to manage the curriculum and needs of the diverse learners in my full inclusion classroom. I graduated at the top of my class and entered my first year of teaching confident and equipped to teach effectively. Sadly, I am now being micro-managed, with my instruction dictated to me. I am expected to mold “out-of-the-box” thinkers while I am forced to stay within the lines of the instructional plans mandated by policy-makers. I am told what I am to teach and when, regardless of the makeup of my students, by decision-makers far away from my classroom or even my school. The message comes in loud and clear that a group of people in business suits can more effectively determine how to provide exemplary instruction than I can. My expertise is waved away, disregarded, and overlooked. I am treated like a day-laborer, required to follow the steps mapped out for me, rather than blaze a trail that I deem more appropriate and effective for my students—students these decision-makers have never met.

I am a teacher in Florida.

I am overworked, underpaid, and unappreciated by most. I spend my weekends, my vacations, and my summers preparing for school, and I constantly work to improve my teaching to meet the needs of my students. I am being required to do more and more, and I’m being compensated less and less.

I am a teacher in Florida, not for the pay or the hardships, the disregard or the disrespect; I am a teacher in Florida because I am given the chance to change lives for the good, to educate and elevate the minds and hearts of my students, and to show them that success comes in all shapes and sizes, both in the classroom and in the community.

I am a teacher in Florida today, but as I watch many of my incredible, devoted coworkers being forced out of the profession as a matter of survival, I wonder: How long will I be able to remain a teacher in Florida?

Thank a Teacher Today

It is Teacher Appreciation Week at our local elementary. It seems little condescending, really. Does it take a national movement--by the PTA or otherwise--to take a moment and recognize what our teachers do for us? Why do so many people wait until they are told it is the assigned date on the calendar to do that? And even then, some begrudge the teachers the moment of recognition.

Our teachers are some of the hardest working people I know. Not only do they teach the prescribed curriculum but most go above and beyond with their creativity and innovation. They look for ways to teach their subject to each child and to see that child succeed.

All teachers are undervalued, but most elementary teachers are extraordinary. They take a room full of squirmy and active kids at every level of academic preparation and guide them to read, write, and do math. Some they even teach to spell and produce proper handwriting. They deal with rainy and snowy days where no one can go out to play. They get snot rubbed on their shirts and wipe tears from eyes.

They referee fights and listen to one sided debates over who was right or who was first. They worry about the child and the child's family. They hear stories that would make the mothers of these children blush. They spend their weekends and evenings deciphering essays and reading between the line to understand a child who is expressing himself on paper.

They pour not just their time an effort inot their classes each year, but often their take home pay too. They supplement what the district or the state offers them. They seek out new books, new manipulatives, new projects. They teach art projects and lead Christmas or Mother's Day gifts.

Good teachers find ways to see each student shine. That is a tall order as each child will have qualities that are vastly different from the other kids. Some kids' talents are easily seen. Some are buried and must be gently mined. Some kids are lovable. Some desperately need a teacher to find a reason to love them. Good teachers always do.

I had some good teachers as a kid. Mrs. Owrzorzak taught us to treat animals and people with kindness and tenderness, and she forgave me when I killed our first grade class guinea pigs after leaving them in the sunshine too long over the weekend.

Mrs. Bach was stern but opened the majesty of our nation's capitol to me as a 10 year old kid seeing it for the first time.

Mrs. Mitgaard showed her creativity by using a green felt tip pen to write on my papers and gave me permission to express myself in a creative way too.

Ms. Alarcon read us To Kill a Mockingbird in the eighth grade and I wept as I listened to her speak Atticus' lines of fairness and kindness and equality.

Mr. Robb showed me that I had a talent I never thought I did and gave me reason to develop that while feeling like an integral part of the choir.

Mr. Acojido and Mrs. Serigstad taught me that our government was only as useful as the people who participated and showed me that I could make a difference.

Mr. Maya taught me that drama is a reflection of reality and can express emotions too tender to say in real life, to real people, but the truth was true not matter how you got to say it.

Teachers make a difference. Good teachers make all the difference.

Is this a New Filing Method?

Anyone else get stuff home from school like this? This particular method had been a favorite for some time, here on the Circle. But this year, The Boy has opted to carry only a zipping binder. He avoids carrying anything else--even a lunch sack. He will stuff his home lunch into the binder and zip it all up and get it to school late way. When I ask him, "How do you get your lunch to the lunchroom when you don't take a sack?" He assures me "That is what pockets are for, Mom."

Some days he remembers to bring out the notes being sent home. Sometimes I get them the next day. If, as was the case with a Halloween note requesting help/items for their grade level party, my name appears on the note--he no longer thinks it is required reading for me--as I must have read it to put my name on it. That is good thinking, but I also use his delivery of said notes as a gauge for other parents getting them at home. Can't tell that when I don't see them.

If I liked his teacher a little more, I could just call or email and get info that way. But this teacher isn't at all warm and fuzzy. In years past, I have always felt that the kids' teachers were on my team in wanting my student to do their best and learn and grow in school. This guy doesn't even seem to be playing the game as we are.

Now, if only I could figure out a better system than the "backpack express". Then again, probably not. We'll just get through this year, I guess.