Class of 2010

Ironflower started Kindergarten yesterday. She loves it, not that this surprises me. I think she's only disappointed that it's half day. Between her starting public school and the research I just did about high schools, I sort of  got motivated to check up on  former students.

The very first class that was all mine, that didn't involve student teaching or subbing, graduated from high school this year. I had them in first grade in a technology magnet school in a tough neighborhood in Kansas City, Kansas. I loved that class just a bit more than any other class I ever had. I remember my little group of super-smart kids, four of whom graduated from a top-ranked high school this year (there is one in KCK, believe it or not). And then there was, well, let's just call him VR. He drove me to distraction, it was so hard to get him to focus and keep his hands to himself. But in the end - after many visits to another teacher (who not only had taught VR's parents, but still scared them) for time out - I managed to teach VR to read. He actually has a football scholarship now. Sadly, I can't find the rest of my students. I can only hope it's not only those 5 who managed to graduate. But that is a possibility.

What breaks my heart even more, though, is the realization that Ironflower could easily do all of the assignments I gave my former first graders the first few months of school. And she would do them better than half of the class. Not because I'm supermom, or because her preschool was highly intensive, or because she's such a genius, but because most of those kids I had started out so far behind.

And what breaks my heart most of all is that I know some of my former students are parents themselves already, or in jail, or even dead. And that kind of puts into perspective all of my anxiety about Ironflower enjoying kindergarten and not getting her feelings hurt by any mean little kids.

Partying in Stuck-Up

Ironflower needs to bring heart-shaped Jello jigglers to her class party tomorrow. Fortunately, Hubby is home and will be able to create them this evening. But still. This is one of the things "requested" by her teacher. In addition to red grapes, 100% juice in juice boxes, cookies and heart themed plates and napkins. Naturally, the other class mom is making the cookies herself.

Homemade party contributions are quite normal here in Stuck-up, both at preschools and elementary schools. Which makes me know I'm living in an alternative universe. When I did my student teaching in a nice but urban school in Portland, no one was allowed to bring in homemade treats. Ditto the nice Seattle suburb I taught in next. When I taught in Kansas City, Kansas (yes, it's a real city - just across the river from Kansas City, Missouri - and it's, um, VERY urban) no one even asked me if they could bring in homemade treats.

When I taught in KCK, I no more would have asked for a list of specific treats than I would have asked for people's ATM passwords. If they had bank accounts. I mean, I was just happy when families sent party treats in at all. Hell, I even bought the juice boxes.

I was struck again by the alternative universe thing when I saw a mom toting in Valentine treat bags yestereday. Not only will her son be passing out Valentines to the class, but all the kids will also get an adorable treat bag. Ironflower and I are even going to be hand making of all our Valentines. In KCK, I used to buy extra Valentine cards just to make sure that all kids got to hand some out.

Thinking about what will be going on at Ironflower's party tomorrow, where several moms will try to outdo each other in the adorable treat bag category and all of the made to order treats will be there in excess, makes me want to go back to my old school and hand each kid a fancy treat bag. Preferably treat bags from the already filled with treats kids at Ironflower's school. That doesn't make me a communist, does it?

Teacher Guilt

Teacher guilt is like survivor guilt. At least it is for me. I am relieved every day that I'm no longer teaching in KCK (that's Kansas City, Kansas to you uninitiated), but I sure feel guilty about it. Even though I live 1200 miles away, I know there are districts around here (Newark and NYC come to mind) where I could do a similar amount of good. But I don't want to anymore.

It's not just that I want to be home with my children. It's not just that I think No Child Left Behind is making teaching hellish. It's that I don't have the emotional wherewithal to teach anymore.

I drank a lot during my last years of teaching. Not at work or anything like that, but I spent a lot of evenings in bars drinking and smoking like a chimney, using dark humor to make others laugh about my job. I think the very worst day was the day I found out that I had one student at the hospital, near death because of her sickle cell and that another student had been put in foster care because her stepfather had been molesting her (Super Guilt, I knew she seemed down but I didn't know what was wrong) and another student broke down and just sobbed in my arms about everything in her life. All three girls are okay now, as far as I know. But that's not the point, is it?

When I was pregnant with Lovebug I had a challenging student with a scary parent. The man threatened to harm me on the school answering machine, though he was nothing but polite to me in person. Actually, he was a bit too polite - he asked too many personal questions, stood too close and breathed alcoholic fumes on me way too often. I was afraid of him and I didn't get much help from the school district, the police or Child Protective Services. It was the other teachers and the custodian who made sure I was never alone with this man.

I'm a mommy now. I can't drown my sorrows in alcohol or ignore the pain eating away at me. God bless the people who can handle it. But I can't anymore. I'm sorry.

Gee, Maybe I Am Bitter

So Newsweek published its "Top 100 High Schools" issue this week. Their editorial slant was about the importance of principals. I've never taught high school, but it wasn't news to me. Principals set the tone at every school, for good or ill.

If you are researching schools for your child, talk to principals - and see if you can get staff members to talk about the principals. A great staff can be driven away by a bad principal and there go the test scores.

Principals are the arbiters of discipline, tone and academic standards at a school. They hire the staff. They collect the data for No Child Left Behind. They deal with the problem students (and the problem parents). Their jobs demand brains, organization, kindness and an ability to bring out the best in people. They need to be amazing people.

The first time I got a bad feeling about my former principal was when I met the woman he hired to teach fourth grade. She was the only new hire, as the just-retired principal had made our school a happy place and no staff members had wanted to leave (uncommon in my old district) except for the one who had moved thirty miles away. Anyway, Mr. J chose Miss W.

Miss W, even though she was a brand new teacher, didn't want any help from the veteran staff or from the instructional coach. She was offended by suggestions on how to deal with her more challenging students. She struggled with the fourth grade curriculum (no, really, the math was beyond her). But she especially struggled with classroom management. She had a hard time keeping track of materials, assignments and students. When a student misbehaved, that student was sent to the (unsupervised) hallway. Despite repeated offers from the rest of the staff, she refused to send anyone to our rooms for a time-out. When she was forbidden to use her hallway method any more, she put the troublemakers in the back of the classroom. Because she didn't understand the curriculum, the group of troublemakers grew (they were all bored and frustrated). Eventually, some of them started eating chalk so that they could throw up and be sent home. And home was no picnic for them.

When Miss W was informed that her students were so unhappy that they were making themselves throw up, she stopped letting them go to the office after throwing up. She made them clean it up themselves. Now, some of the kids were very challenging kids, but not one of them was violent or hateful. They were just very, very, unhappy. When all of this came to light, the instructional coach began spending every day, all day, with Miss W. She was forced to send misbehaving kids to other classrooms (and let me say that every one of them who came to my room was well-behaved, diligent and sweet the whole time). The principal and the district bent over backwards to show Miss W how to be a teacher.

It didn't work, and she resigned at Christmas. I'm not saying that Mr.J could have foreseen just how incompetent she was, but he did choose her. By the following school year, Mr. Jones had dissolved all committees except the one required by the district and phased out many of the things that had made our students happy and successful. He began undermining staff members in front of students. He created problems between staff members and resentment between teachers and his superiors. He, and he alone, ruined that school.

So, yes Newsweek, principals are everything.