Life at the Morton School

A Thankless Job?

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 30 Nov 2010 08:00:00 +0000

So Cathie Black, to no one's surprise, has been granted the necessary waiver to serve as Chancellor. I stand by my position that I'm attempting to reserve judgment until she actually does something, but in the meantime, I'm going to continue to speculate about the situation, since it's all anyone is talking about anyway. Who wants to think about anything else with eighteen long school days remaining until the holiday break?

Like many people, I wonder, still, why Black wants this job. No one, herself included, is pretending that she has some kind of lifelong passion for education of any kind, public or otherwise. The public disapproves of the appointment, with many believing she's being brought on primarily to "right-size" the DOE. The highest echelons of state education administration have expressed serious reservations about her ability to do the job, such that they have insisted that she take on a specific deputy, Shael Polakow-Suransky, to serve as a Chief Academic Officer.

I think, if Ms. Black was a teacher, those around her would quietly begin to discuss the "counseling out" process. A lot of teachers don't make it, a fact that's well-known and silly not to talk about. The job is not right for everyone. That's not an admission of general incompetence, lack of intelligence, or lack of compassion; it's a simple statement of fact that not everyone makes it because it is not the right fit for everyone, even those who are well-qualified on paper or even lovely people with many lovely qualities in real life. It just doesn't work for everyone. Nothing you can do.

At this point, is this job a good fit for Ms. Black? Given a host of other choices, anyone from Michelle Rhee to Jesus Christ or anyone in between, would anyone who is not Mayor Bloomberg or one of his sycophants actually choose her, on purpose? And what is she going to get accomplished with this serious lack of support?

If I were Ms. Black, I would have graciously stepped aside weeks ago, saying that, after careful reconsideration, I found the job to not be a good fit and would have offered my support to a different candidate. Ms. Black could still do that, pointing to the excellent (or at least better) qualifications of Mr. Polakow-Suransky and expressing confidence in his ability to take on the job solo.

Why does she want this thankless job at this point? Seriously. I'm wondering.

There Are 19 School Days Until the Holiday Break

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 28 Nov 2010 19:53:00 +0000

FYI.

Hope you all enjoyed the all-too-short Thanksgiving break. I know I could have used one more day.

Miss Eyre Gets Schooled on Reality Television

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 11 Nov 2010 03:35:00 +0000

STUDENT 1: "Miss Eyre, this girl Violet acts like she is on Bad Girls' Club."

ME: "Bad Girls' Club?"

STUDENT 2: "Aw yeah! Like that one where the one is all up in other's face and they were like dragging each other around by the hair?"

STUDENT 1: "Ohhhh yeah."

ME: "I'm sorry, is this a reality show or something?"

STUDENT 1: "Oh, Miss Eyre, you never saw Bad Girls' Club?"

ME "Um, no."

STUDENT 2: "You HAVE to! It would, like, help you understand Violet."

STUDENT 1: "These girls have, like, issues. And they're all angry and stuff and have all these fights and they have to live in a house together."

STUDENT 2: "I would not want to live with Violet."

Cleavage

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 05 Nov 2010 21:34:00 +0000

STUDENT #1: Damn, girl, pull up your camisole! Don't nobody need to see all that!

STUDENT #2: Aight, I got you! Jeez! **pulls up camisole**

STUDENT #1: Look at Miss Eyre! She can wear a tank top without showing all that business! You can too!

The Best of Days, the Worst of Days

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 26 Oct 2010 23:03:00 +0000

Did I have a great day or a terrible day? It's after 7 p.m. and I'm still wondering. Let's look at the evidence from the text:

One of my advisees got into a truly dirrrrty girl fight today, and because I happened to be in the hallway, I got to babysit the girl she fought while waiting for a dean to pick her up because the two girls needed to be separated (obviously).
Two kids openly complained about their grades.
My lesson totally fell flat.

On the other hand:

One of the kids who complained about his grade actually came back after school and had a heart-to-heart with me about how he could do better.
The girl I babysat was in tears and I might have actually gotten her to calm down before she gave her statement.
Another student came by after school to help me organize my classroom library, and along with a couple of her friends, we ended up having a really nice chat. She even told me that I was her favorite teacher so far this year.

So: great day or horrible day?

Is it corny if I say that I secretly think it was great?

No Sports for You

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 24 Oct 2010 22:26:00 +0000

Really? Yes, really. The principal of Martin Van Buren High School is trying to drive sports out of the school. Rather than share a reaction that ought to be obvious, I'm going to share a rebutting anecdote instead.

I have a student this year, "Jonathan," who seems so far to be a bright and good-hearted kid. But he has issues, for sure--anger issues, home issues, friend issues. He's in counseling already, thanks to a quick and concerned counselor at my school who jumped right in when I alerted her to Jonathan's problems. I checked in with her the other day about Jonathan's progress.

"His attendance is better, right?" she asked.

"It is," I said. "He's been in school every day, and he's been late less."

"Good," she said, nodding. "He wants to go out for baseball and there's batting practice after school every day, so he's getting here. That should help."

Sports are important to Jonathan, important enough that he'll overcome his aversion to school to play baseball. And if we can get him there for baseball, the academics will begin to sink in, at least somewhat. And then Jonathan will have options other than baseball, too.

Sure, it doesn't work that way for every kid. But it works for an awful lot. Because student athletes have to get through a physical, pass every subject, and be present on game days, you're also promoting health, scholarship (at least a minimal standard), and attendance. Maybe Ms. Shevell will save a few bucks, or get a few distracted athletes graduated because of her new policy. But I wonder if she won't also see a drop in attendance and a bigger drop in graduation rates as kids who were drawn in by sports find one less reason to show up every day.

Let Me Get Right on That

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 22 Oct 2010 21:57:00 +0000

Like many of us, I am working on finalizing grades for the first round of report cards. (ALREADY? ALREADY. I know. I can't believe it.) On the last day of the marking period, I was on my way back to my classroom after a visit to the supply closet a little while after the end of the last class of the day.

"Miss Eyre," I heard a voice call. It was one of my students, "Lee."

"Hi, Lee," I said. "What's up?"

"Um, you got any extra credit I could do to bring my grade up?"

"You're kidding, right?" I said, incredulously.

"No. I want to bring my grade up."

"Lee," I said, "I had two make-up periods earlier this week. The days and times were posted on the board all week. I didn't see you at either of them."

"Well," he said, "I was failing science."

"Then you made your choice, right?" I asked.

"But I want to bring my grade up," he protested.

I made the outlandish suggestion that he should do more homework and studying and come to see me before 4:00 p.m. on the last day of the marking period next time.

He walked off in a huff.

Seriously?

The Blog World Loves Miss Eyre, Or Maybe They Just Love Commas

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 01 Oct 2010 23:55:00 +0000

Core Knowledge loves commas!

Education Week wants to make sure I've gotten the whole message.

And Joanne Jacobs's readers worry about copyright violation.

NYC Educator tells me that all the linking love has earned us some extra traffic. Always a nice thing. Thanks for the love! The commas thank you too.

Coverages: Not So Bad?

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 01 Oct 2010 22:02:00 +0000

Coverages are usually an excellent way to muck up a teacher's day. Take away one of those precious preps and toss a teacher into a random classroom, where s/he does not necessarily know the subject, the students, or both, and it's a recipe for disaster much of the time.

But not today.

I got my first coverage at TMS2 today, with lots of big scary older kids and not the precious youngsters in whom I have already cultivated a very gentle and friendly sort of fear. The previous period's students were having a paper-ball fight while the coverage teacher was doing something on her laptop. I had a raging headache and did not plan on dealing with a paper-ball fight with a fresh class the following period.

So as the new bunch came in, I let them talk, and as those of us who teach teenagers know, "talk" really means "yell, and do that incessantly." I let them talk and talk and talk while they furtively glanced at me, clipboard with roll sheets in hand, and at the Do Now bravely posted on the board.

I just looked at them. For what seemed like forever.

Then they got a little nervous. Finally, one boy spoke up: "Yo, shut up, she's waiting."

"Is that," I asked them, "how you enter the room every day?"

They looked at each other. "No," a few muttered.

"Then why on Earth," I asked them, "would you do it today?"

"Sorry," a few more mumbled.

I smh'ed at them, tempted to make some grandmotherly mmm-mmm-mmm noise while I did so, but thought that might be taking it too far. I took roll and duly noted the ditchers and the girl who came in late. "Okay," I said. "I'm Miss Eyre. I teach English down the hall. I don't know you, but I'll try to learn your names. Your teacher left you this assignment. If you can complete it in your seats and keep any conversation you have at a low volume with school-appropriate language, that works for me."

"Aw, miss, that's not gonna work," complained one boy. "I can't be silent all period."

"Yo, she said we could talk, duh," said another boy, pretending to slap at his friend.

"That's right," I said. "Low volume, clean language. That's all I ask."

"Oh," said the first boy. "Aight, miss. I got you. I'mma do this work. This looks okay."

Whatever I did with those kids, it worked. Every kid did the work (with varying degrees of success, I'll grant, but at least they tried). They kept the volume low and even let the room fall silent a couple of times. When a few kids started tapping out a beat on the table and rapping over it, I suggested that they wait until the end of the period, and, if they could, I'd let them knock off two minutes early and demonstrate their beats again for me. To my amazement, they agreed and got back to work. (And, okay, I had to hear their beat in the end, but I braved the banging through my headache and tried to enjoy it.) I did learn most of their names. We got through the coverage without any stress. I even did a bit of planning while they worked. And now I have a few new kids to say "Good morning" to in the halls.

Humility Lessons

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 16 Sep 2010 23:54:00 +0000

BRILLIANT and beautiful piece at GothamSchools about building respect and collegiality among generations of teachers. You must read this.

School Aides Rock My World

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 16 Sep 2010 03:10:00 +0000

What is it about school aides that makes them so awesome? I don't know. Just like teachers, these folks do NOT get paid enough for the fantastic and essential work they do. And they work hard. On those crazy days where it's 2:00 and you haven't eaten lunch yet, your school's aides probably haven't either.

The school aides at TMS1 were always bright spots of sanity, efficacy, and humor in a school that is, from what I'm hearing from my former colleagues, continuing to career off the rails. And the school aides at TMS2? You ain't seen nothing yet is my general impression of these people. My early favorite is one who consoled an angry parent over the phone about a MetroCard issue--effectively, from the sound of things--while giving a lost student directions and filling out paperwork for me to get some new tech equipment. This lady is good.

Just had to say that today,.

Proud Papa of a Ferret

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 14 Sep 2010 23:50:00 +0000

So I alluded to this kid in my post at NYC Educator today. He's so awesome that he definitely deserves his own post. So here it is, my first kid story of the 2010-11 school year. (Please note that, if you're new here, all kid stories are posted with names and identifying details changed to protect the child's privacy, and that I do not in this post or any other identify my school or even my borough. Kthx.)

Will is one of my English students at TMS2. He sits in the back because he was a late addition to the roster and that was all the room I had left when he came in. But he's quickly made himself into a rising star in the class.

"Miss Eyre," he greeted me on Monday, "how was your weekend?"

"Great, Will," I said. "How was yours?"

"It was rough, to be honest," he said, shaking his head. "My ferret got into all my stuff 'cause my brother left her out and then didn't, like, supervise her, you know? That's what ferrets be doin'. They get into stuff if you don't watch them."

I was somewhat taken aback by this tale--it's just not what you expect to hear from your typical high school boy, absorbed as he so often is by girls, sleep, and sports. But I tried to play it cool. "How much damage?" I asked.

"Aw, no real damage," he said. "Some papers torn up and stuff. Nothing major."

"Does she do this a lot?"

"Naw, not usually! When you watch her she's real good and cute and stuff. But you leave her alone, you know, she's just like a kid. Does crazy stuff."

Will's first writing piece is also about the ferret. I haven't read it yet, only looked over his shoulder while he was writing it. But, as you can imagine, I'm looking forward to it.

Oof! (Welcome Back)

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 09 Sep 2010 00:18:00 +0000

My calves, my eyes, my back...everything in my body is like, "Oof! So this is what it feels like to do a full day's work!" Yeah, we're all back for real now. Kiddies were in today. Rules were explained, icebreakers were endured, bulletin boards were covered, room-sharing arrangements were (or probably are still being) ironed out. One down, 180 to go.

My first day was pretty good. My classes seem really nice. Of course, I've already pinpointed a few darlings who should NOT sit together, but overall, the kiddies (and the adults) were on their respective best behaviors. My room looks nice.

That's about all I have to say because I'm EXHAUSTED. But I'll have more to say soon.

BTW: My posting schedule at NYC Educator is back to Tuesdays and Thursdays for the fall starting Tuesday, September 14.

The Night Before the Night Before the First Day of School

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 07 Sep 2010 02:13:00 +0000

Whew, and welcome back! Did we all have a nice summer? Yes? Good. Mine was all right. To be honest, it kind of went downhill in August. I can't deal with the heat and The Morton School v.2.0 (to be referred to hereafter as TMS2) didn't send me my curriculum materials until, uh, a couple of days ago (yes, despite repeated badgering), so Miss Eyre got good and bored. I admit it. I read twentysome books and watched a LOT of movies and went to a couple of museums and such. But most days it was too hot for me to feel going outside. So, anyway, the point is:

I am glad summer is over.

Yes, you read that right. I am glad summer is over. Glad, glad, glad. I want to go back to work. I'm itching to get to know my new students and colleagues. I'm exciting about trying the new things I was afraid to try at TMS1. I am not even dreading tomorrow's day full of meetings because I really need to know how my new school works. I confessed earlier today that so far TMS2 seems a little too good to be true. The colleagues and administrators I've met so far just seem too pleasant, reasonable, and helpful. The way things are done seems a little too self-explanatory and trusting of teachers. This is the DOE. I know this is far too much to expect.

So I'm going into tomorrow with very low expectations, but into Wednesday with only the highest. I'm already just about ready to go for Wednesday.

And if you're not totally annoyed with me by now and you've kept reading up to this point, good luck this week!

Back-to-School Shopping and Reading

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 18 Aug 2010 14:51:00 +0000

Hello friends,

Just another quick post to keep things at least slightly alive here before school starts! Hope everyone is enjoying summer vacation. Even if you have a fairly elaborate classroom setup with which to contend, you should still have two more good weeks of relaxing remaining. Max it out.

Since I'm apparently a masochist who is ever-so-slightly looking forward to returning to school, I'll blog a bit about my preparations so far. I've hit Staples twice. I bought a case of paper ($25 or so with an Easy Rebate; good deal!) because you never know when that will come in handy. The former Morton School's schizoid copy "policy" last year found me able to get some copies made sometimes in the main office, but more often than not I was on my own. By being judicious about when I really needed something copied, printing on both sides of the paper, reusing scrap paper, and shamelessly soliciting paper donations from students, I was able to make my case of paper last all year. I also bought some five-cent pocket folders, one-cent notebook paper, #2 pencils, and dry-erase markers. These are the kinds of things your school should supply, but we all know that that does not always happen. Those are some good basics to get you started.

I've also bought a few new teacher books, all of which are good reading. I blogged about Kelly Gallagher's work again at NYC Educator this morning, and I'm happy to report that his two books that I've now read are both well worth your dollars and your time. Readicide: How Schools Are Killing Reading and What You Can Do About It is a marvelous companion to Thomas Newkirk's Holding on to Good Ideas in a Time of Bad Ones, another book I've heartily recommended to ELA teachers. And Gallagher's Reading Reasons is a wonderful collection of solid, easy-to-follow minilessons about both academic and real-world literacy, many of which I can easily imagine real students and teachers actually enjoying. This is empowering and sensible reading for ELA teachers.

Another book I picked up is Three Minute Motivators by Kathy Paterson. Although you might have been taught in ed school that your motivator comes at the beginning of your lesson, many of Paterson's motivators are useful as transitioning, refocusing, and closing activities. Some are longer than three minutes and would work well as review games and contests. Some of the activities are more geared to the elementary crowd, but as a middle school teacher transitioning to high school, quite a few of them seem like they would work for all ages.

Feel free to share your own recommendations in the comments.

Who Wants to Think about Test Scores?

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 29 Jul 2010 02:05:00 +0000

Not me. We're just about halfway through summer vacation and school is still pretty far from my mind. But it was hard to miss the "release" of the test scores today. I say "release" because it's hard, if not impossible, for us teachers to get any meaningful information. The best y'all can do, as far as I can tell, is this document from the state education department that does break scores down as far as grade, district, and building.

I'm pretty sure everyone's numbers went down, but my individual numbers still look pretty darn good, at least comparatively speaking; my students' scores are well above the district average and are among the highest in my district. That's never bad news. I just wish I could see specifics so I know how individual kids did. The specific scores will be up on ARIS the second week of August, allegedly, but everything needs to be downloaded from ARIS by the 20th of August because it all needs to be reloaded for next year. That's tight.

I'd like to know why the scores couldn't be released to teachers today. ARIS cost $70 million, right? Are you going to tell me it still takes 2 weeks to get everything loaded? Human data entry people could probably get it done in less than 2 weeks.

Summer Vacaaaaaaaaaaaaaation

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 28 Jun 2010 20:34:00 +0000

I haz it.

More reflective post on the end of the school year forthcoming.

Down to one day a week at NYC Educator for the summer until the school year gears up again.

HAVE FUN

On the Foolishness of Certain Memos

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 16 Jun 2010 03:07:00 +0000

The teachers at the Morton School recently received a memo admonishing us to wait until the last 2-3 days of school to dismantle classroom libraries, take down bulletin boards, and the like. I appreciate the spirit of this memo, but in practice find it absolutely impracticable.

Those of us teaching with classroom libraries constituting several hundred volumes have a daunting task: sorting and storing books for the new school year. If your school, like mine, is used for summer school, all of these materials must be secured so that they aren't "borrowed" during the summer. If you don't want to spend September in any more pain than you have to, you want to assure that things are put away with some sense of rhyme and reason so that unpacking is not terribly daunting when you come back for the fall.

"But Miss Eyre," you might say, "surely, as a professional, you can understand that this task might require time outside of the school day?" Yes, I do. I stayed at school two hours late today and worked through most of my lunch getting my library sorted out for next year. I am maybe 25% done. New book purchases mean that books must be leveled; books must be sorted according to genre and level; and then stored. When I'm really clicking along, I can do maybe 30-40 books in an hour, but when you have over 100 new books to be sorted and leveled, plus a new sorting system for next year, you're talking a multi-hour task. Saving it for the last 2-3 days of school is just not doable. In fact, looking at the work still remaining after my efforts today, I'm glad I started today.

"Maybe if your classroom library was sorted and leveled to begin with, you might not have to do this." Well, you're probably right. The problem is that when I first got my classroom, I got boxes and boxes of books, most of which were not leveled, none of which were sorted by genre, and some of which were totally inappropriate for my grade. These books I have gradually weeded out over the years, only to have them replaced by more books--purchases of my own, the school's, the PTA's. All of this takes time. Plus the new requirement that 100% of books must be leveled and sorted by genre, as opposed to the old 30-40% target--you can see why this is a substantial task.

Putting together the physical space of a classroom when you teach the lower grades (I'm counting anything lower than 9th as "lower") is a task that takes close to a week of full-time days. Why administrators think that you can take it all apart on your 45-minute prep period over 2 or 3 days in June is beyond me.

Happy packing, everyone. In flagrant disobedience of the memo, I'm already underway.

Passing, and Getting Beyond Passing

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 11 Jun 2010 01:22:00 +0000

Well, whoopee for Miss Eyre. All my little darlings passed the ELA exam. Not like I had many worries that they wouldn't, but it's nice that it's official.

And with school winding down, I've been talking a lot with my kiddies about the future and reading many of their hopes and dreams for high school. My curmudgeonly self has to admit it's been, well, inspiring. A couple of the girls with whom I worked closely this year talked about high school with shy-but-big smiles, saying they feel prepared to go there and do well. (They're not deluded, either; I think they're ready, too.) One of my male students wrote an essay about making the honor roll for the first time and it literally made me cry. That recognition meant the world to that kid.

I guess I've felt like a failure so much this year that it's been wonderful to be reminded, despite my myriad mistakes, that I was still a force for good, on the balance, in my kids' lives. There's so much more I wish I could have done; I suppose there always is. At the end of the year I always feel like Oskar Schindler at the end of Schindler's List; "I could have got more," he frets, "I didn't do enough." (I'm not saying I put my entire fortune and, indeed, life on the line like Schindler did or anything; that is, I'm not equating myself with him. My martyr complex isn't quite that severe.)

But I did a lot. I'm not going to change everyone's life. But if I, working with my colleagues, was able to bring the lion's share of the kids to a point where they feel excited and confident about moving on to high school, I did all right. I can hold my head up. That's better than passing.

No Staycation for Miss Eyre This Summer

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 04 Jun 2010 02:32:00 +0000

Since I'm not getting laid off, I'm planning a real summer vacation. I've staycationed for the past two summers, and while I genuinely love messing around in the city, I have a bit of an itch for travel and I'm looking forward to scratching it.

It's not quite finalized where I'm going yet, but it makes me feel good to be able to put it on the blog.

20 Days of School Left

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 01 Jun 2010 03:06:00 +0000

I am awake, still, doing stuff for school I can't even talk about. I graded papers for three hours today and now I am doing stuff for people who find it charming to tell you things they need at 3 p.m. on a Friday before a three-day weekend.

Only 20 days of school left. I can make it.

Another Sunday Night

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 23 May 2010 23:06:00 +0000

Tomorrow, we'll have exactly five weeks of school left. Subtract Memorial Day and Brooklyn-Queens Day* and that's 23 school days. Subtract the clerical half-days that we folks in the elementary and middle schools have, subtract Regents Week (since no real instruction happens that week) for our colleagues in high schools, you're looking at just about 20 days, give or take a couple.

*What is Brooklyn-Queens Day, my friends outside NYC wonder? It's the day that marks the anniversary of Brooklyn and Queens joining the City of New York. Yes, there is really a day off from school for this. Well, the kids stay home; the teachers come in for a CHANCELLOR'S CONFERENCE DAY, which is about as much fun as it sounds.

We're still hard at work in Miss Eyre's classroom. The kiddies are gearing up for their social studies exit project presentations, among other things, which will happen in the second-to-last full week of school. I'm starting to openly beg for classroom library books to be returned; after all, a good many of them were bought with my own money and I'd like to have them back for next year.

But other things are drawing to a close. Our last book talks are scheduled for this week, and our last vocabulary quiz. We'll take our last social studies test soon, before we start preparing for the state social studies exam, which is much sooner than any of us think it is.

I'm elated and depressed to think about this school year ending. True, it's been a difficult year for me. But I have lovely groups of kids and I'm very much running out of time to spend with them. I've stayed in touch with many of my former students, and while it always makes my day to hear from any of them, it's never the same as having them together. The magic never re-forms itself after they go their separate ways.

Still, it's another Sunday night here in New York City and, as usual, I'm foggy-headed trying to piece the week together. Not unusually, I'm facing a number of interruptions ("special events") in this week's calendar and am trying to figure out when and how to fit everything in. I'm still grading papers and figuring out which students need to have conferences soon. Life goes on more or less as scheduled, even with so little time left.

I plan to make it to the end of this school year with my sanity, my dignity, and my rating intact. Beyond that, who knows.

College for Everybody, Anyway

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 18 May 2010 02:24:00 +0000

I like Claus van Zastrow's post on continuing the push towards college for everyone over at his Public School Insights blog today. He makes one of the few points about "college readiness" that rings true and sensible to me: "The vast majority of wealthy parents expect their kids to go to college," he writes. "Even some of those pundits who pooh pooh college in the pages of the Times or The Wall Street Journal would likely pitch a fit if their own children decided to go the voc-ed route. Poor children face a very different reality. (...) [T]hose who never went to college are getting hit hardest by this recession. The poor get poorer."

I'm skeptical, I admit, of the idea that all children can be made college-ready. Most children can, but many won't cooperate with the effort. But--and here's the key--college should be suggested and encouraged for every child. The child for whom college is the right thing--and maybe that's a poor child, an immigrant child, a child with learning disabilities--will be heartened and motivated by the expectation, the assumption that he, too, can make it to college. And the child for whom college is not right will hardly be dissuaded from education altogether by someone suggesting that she should stretch herself.

Maybe college preparation activities should be made "opt-out" at schools, rather than opt-in; that is, college tours or visits by admissions officers or SAT prep should be de rigueur for everyone. Only after a careful and realistic evaluation made by the student, his or her family, and a counselor should the child be pursuing other options that are concrete and realistic for that child. And those options should still include education.

I feel like a system like that would preserve the push towards college for bright, motivated kids who simply feel discouraged that college is out of their reach because of lack of resources. It would perhaps inspire some students to aim for college even if they didn't think they could or should do it before. And it would also help to care for those students who might still decide college is not for them.

Principal X: Developing

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 15 May 2010 18:05:00 +0000

Well, it's been a fun year with Principal X. (Not really.) But let's face it: Principals have tough jobs too. I try to be a generous critic. So I'm going to list some of the good things that Principal X did at the Morton School this year:

Instituted more teacher-led professional development (previously, there was little to none of this).
Kept grades together for lunch periods (sounds like a small thing, but I think it made a big difference).
Helped students launch two new community service projects.
Hosted parent breakfasts for parents who have a hard time making it to PTA meetings in the evenings.
Planned professional development across the curriculum rather than just focusing on reading and math.
Kept appointments with members of the school consultation committee.

But, if I were rating Principal X under the new teacher evaluation system, I think s/he would still only rate a Developing. Why?

Teachers were evaluated and often criticized for not doing things for which they had explicitly and repeatedly requested training that they did not get.
Principal X cannot give a compliment to save his/her life.
Principal X's relationship with Miss AP is rapidly and obviously degenerating into total and mutual hatred.
Principal X has often undermined teachers' attempts to discipline students and does not follow the DOE Discipline Code, meaning that too many students are getting away with too much.

Where does this leave my relationship with Principal X? Honestly, I know there are some true nightmare principals out there and mine isn't one of them. And since I (painfully) remember my first year of teaching and can rattle off a list dozens deep of mistakes I made during my first year, I'm going to give Principal X the benefit of the doubt.

But in order for PX to get any better, s/he has got to become a better leader to the teachers. I don't think any teacher at the Morton School feels like PX appreciates them or recognizes their efforts. I said to a colleague the other day that our other colleagues would be much more forgiving of PX, given the very real challenges PX has had to face, if PX weren't so relentlessly critical of us.

So that's where we stand with exactly six weeks of school left. I suppose Developing means that PX can keep the job for next year but needs to do some reflecting and retraining. That sounds about right.

Salute to Smooth

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 07 May 2010 20:58:00 +0000

I haven't written about Smooth much this year, and when I mentioned him briefly in my NYC Educator post yesterday, I had to ask myself why. Smooth is a very interesting kid. If you met him, you'd think he was your standard-issue popular kid: he's cute, well-dressed, and just smart-alecky enough to be funny without being disrespectful or disruptive. He gets good-enough grades; not great, and probably not as good as he could do if he really tried, but good enough. You probably have a kid or two like Smooth. You probably like him and don't give him much more thought.

I've known Smooth for as long as I've been at the Morton School. He's always been the way he is. Except for the first half of this school year. I talked to his mom a few weeks into the school year and commented that he seemed much more reserved, maybe even a little down, than I'd known him to be in the past. He wasn't jokey and fast-talking the way he always was before, and his grades, instead of being good enough, were just north of failing.

His mom sighed. "It's his brother," she said. "He's in jail. Smooth really looks up to his brother and he made some really foolish choices, and he got caught."

I felt terribly. Smooth's brother is considerably older than him and had been out of the house for a while, but Smooth's dad is not involved with him, so the brother was something of a father figure. Smooth was angry at his brother but also missed him. Smooth's mom promised to get him into counseling and work with him to get his grades up.

Well, fast forward to May. Against those lousy odds, Smooth turned the ship around. First his grades started ticking upward. Then he started dating a sweet girl in his class. Then his former personality started wiggling out again--a funny impression here, a sarcastic remark there--and I'd say he's back to his old self.

But it's not just that. Smooth grew a heart, too. He stays late after school every day--not because he gets AIS, but because his girlfriend does, and he waits for her to get out. The girlfriend was convinced, to the point of tears, that she bombed the math exam the other day, and he didn't want to leave her side. I mean, I know these kids are young and their relationships aren't *serious* per se, but I think that's sweet.

And you know what? I think Smooth is awesome. I just know so many kids who would give up in his situation. I love that he put himself back on the right path (with help from mom and a counselor). I love that he's kind to his young lady. I even love that he messes around in class, just a little, because I think he's finding school tolerable, even positive, again.

I've been wanting to write a note to his mom and tell her all this stuff, but I haven't been sure how to say it. Maybe I should just say what I said here.