Testing Season

I love what I do. Kids are great, interesting, weird, They are filled with potential. Every day is new, Honestly, if I made a little more money and had a lot more respect, I would probably do this forever. In my class, we are at the end of a writing process so we are having our open mic - I bring cocoa and the kids read their work. Maybe for the first time they get hooked on the real thing about writing, which is communication. Telling your truth to someone else. Being heard.

Right now, despite the joy, I am discouraged. I worry that our push for test scores ignores the humans we are charged to educate. My hubby can attest to the fact that in most weeks there is a time when I am discouraged, overwhelmed and feeling like I might drown. Here, in testing season, tempers are short, patience is stretched and I wonder if what we teachers do is worthwhile.

Education

At every turn, there is a wall or worse
a task, given by someone, and didn’t you know
that you had neglected to attend to it properly, because there were rules.
And I -s that needed dotting
that you should have already known about, didn’t you already know? Slacker,
teacher?
Where is your checkpoint, lesson plan, data analysis? Formative
assessment, lesson modification, standard focus, learning goal? Did you complete
the reading inventory, failure predictions,meeting notes?
Teacher?

Building
the architecture of citizenship. 12-year-olds defend their heart-held beliefs
out loud and in letters and essays and poetry. Memes and
jokes and quotes arrive via student gmail. Dreams
eked out in doorway greetings.
Learning.

Anarchist Dictator

"If I were the impossible anarchist dictator, every freight train would be required to have a passenger car, with no attendants, so anyone could hop on anywhere and ride for free at their own risk."     - Ran Prieur

I have been a teacher for ten years now, something I never thought to be. I hated school. Truly hated it. I had the second lowest GPA in my junior class. I think that was the year I couldn't even make myself go in and register for classes during the summer because the sound of the bell grated on my sensibilities.

My ideal world did not include desks, and more importantly, being told what to learn and how to learn it. I believed then, and still do, that kids want to learn. They are interested in their world; they explore and discover naturally. Now, for ten months out of the year I arrange desks and I arrange learning. I tell kids what they need to learn AND how they need to learn it.

Splat

I used to rebel-
before these days of cognitive dissonance. I thought
I knew

but now the me that reminds
students to take their seats - repeatedly -
is in discord with the rest of me. I am this impossible thing -
this anarchist dictator. I rise up

to embody 

what I am not. Rebelling
with one hand and squelching uprisings
with the other. It is easy
to see how Castro got that way.

(Thank you to my brilliant and dear friend Aimee Day for the quote and the inspiration.)

The Angels: Patty Damon- 7th grade Science, DeAnn Broom- Texas History,
and Me - Readin' and Writin'

On the other hand, I know some things about kids that I didn't back when I was a kid. I know that they need structure to learn in groups. I know that they need warriors to fight for them. They need adults who are willing to battle with them and for them. That willingness to fight for their education is how they know I care.

I also know that kids who have to deal with the effects of poverty need to have higher expectations set, not lower. If you start out in life behind the curve you have to run faster and longer to get where you want to go. Educators who make excuses for kids are doing them a disservice.

It is a impossible to sustain the level of outrage and fight needed on your own, especially given the pressures of modern education: testing, funding, bureaucracy, cruelty, group-think, inequity, disinterest... 

Dear Student,

I want to borrow a quart of outrage
to use when I cannot find it in myself to
stick up for you yet again, when they say
you don't have the support, or the will, they say -

I need a soupcon of courage to tell you
that you are worth the struggle and that
if you don't pull your head out of your ass
and start acting older than your age, you will never
read above a third grade level.

I need to borrow will - because I have lost mine
in paperwork and sad eyes and your anger - and it might as well be yours -

because mine was never enough for the both of us.

Can you loan me a spine, I need it so I can smile at you
as you walk through my door and I will try to convince you that whatever it is
you are running from will always nip at your heels
until you turn and face it.

Personal Teaching

This is a video I use to introduce myself to students at the beginning of the year. 

"I am From" 

I never thought that I would be a teacher. I wanted to be an actress, on a stage in New York - trying on other people's lives. Or I thought that I might be a psychologist - another empathetic profession. Or, for a while, I wanted to be a lawyer. I was the lawyer of my family, arguing every point, angling for a lighter sentence for the accused. I thought for a while I wanted to be president, however my dad kindly informed me (when I was a mere pup of 14 or so) that I had already done things that might preclude a run for president. Thanks, Dad.

I ended up as a teacher largely by accident, and like most of us I hated middle school. Now for nine months of every year I go to middle school five days a week. Crazy. Unexpected. I struggle with the ways that being a middle school teacher shapes me, maybe even changes me. Sometimes I feel like it makes me someone who isn't a lot of fun. Someone who is constantly saying things like, "Pull-up-your-pants. Nobody wants to see that." and, "What should you be doing right now?" I also am a confiscator of "I <3 Booby" bracelets. Wow! How did I get here?

I know teachers who find ways to integrate themselves and their teaching more fully than I seem to be able to. My husband, Joe, teaches college composition and does great job of bringing himself into the classroom. It allows his students the license to do the same, and to be as engaged as he is in the world of the heart and ideas. The Joe I know and the one that teaches those kids are the same person, excited and exciting - no holds barred. My brother-in-law Scott teaches high school. He and I had an engrossing conversation last summer during a car ride from Seattle to Salem (Scott - Please forgive me if I get some of the details wrong). He teaches at a school that is project based. I had asked him how he prepares for the upcoming year. He described his immersion in the culture of India for the upcoming year's theme. He checked out every book he could find and took out the desks so that students could sit on the floor on cushions. Class started every day with a quiet meditation time. The thing that struck me is that Scott's learning is integral to his teaching. His process makes him more Scott, not less.

It is summer now and I am reveling in the time I have. I read, I write, I am cooking gorgeous food. I have plenty of time for swimming with my friends, taking care of my physical person... Hell, I have plenty of time to sleep and no alarm clock! I know for those of you who don't have an academic schedule this sounds like an embarrassment of riches... It is and maybe I should just take my lumps; be less me for part of the year and then wallow in my freedom for a few months every summer. Somehow, I think that I am cheating myself and my students if I am content with half measures.

One career I did want when I was a child was to make a school; one that fosters students' innate curiosity and helps them grow to their best selves.  

School in Denmark with 'private spaces' for children
http://edu.blogs.com/edublogs/2010/11/ordrup-seven-spaces-of-technology-school-environments-embodied.html

I went to a conference last week and one of the presentations gave me a bit of school envy. It was about the design of places of learning. My experience working in public schools in the U.S. reveals that it is difficult to change the paint color; imagine what superintendents would say to a hallway like the one below or to private spaces similar to the cubbies above. Our answer to school reform is testing and 'accountability'. Sigh... There  is a lot more that we could and should be doing to re-form our schools.

Yuyu-no-mori Nursery School in Japan uses a giant net for their  3rd floor hallway

http://www.designshare.com/index.php/projects/yuyu-no-mori-nursery/images@4526

What would the school look like that would allow teachers and students to be their authentic selves? What can I do to make my classroom that place for me and my students?

...and a poem to close. Students who have disabilities struggle valiantly to fit into the mold of industrialized education. 

Dominic’s hair

looks sweaty. When I see him

in the hall He says Feel my head. We do not

touch students, his hair looks greasy

and damp, like the man in the rubber room

his eyes are mad and shift. I don’t want to

touch him

but I do. His hair is soft,

downy, dry. Carefully, my fingers

touch – There is a small bump, an egg.

Dominic was breaking pencils

on his head,

in Seventh Grade Life Science. Nobody

noticed, except his friends – who

thought it was funny.

in the morning before

school, three weeks ago

– the superglue

Dominic brought to affix the head of his bacteriophage

proved too enticing – again to his friends. They glued

together their thumbs and forefingers. In the end

Joel got it in the eye. I told the principal

Dominic has Tourette’s. He is a good kid.

He is just like the rest of the boys,

skittering toward lunch detention,

jail or an early grave.

Today I took Dominic

to meet the tech teacher. On his way out

Nice to meet you. He said,
shaking her hand.
Odd, from the mouth of a thirteen-
year-old. Stilted, formal. Just
like the rest of us.