Virtual Slap Monday: Curriculum Chat

For the first time ever, I went to one of our school's grade level curriculum chats. Since I've never taught third grade, I figured I should go this year. Plus, I now trust Hugmonkey to be totally quiet - as long as I give him his Kindle.

We were late, mainly because the new check-in procedures are pretty damn strict (you have to show your driver's license and you get a badge with your picture on it that only works for that event on that particular day) and only one woman was checking everyone in. I am not sure how I feel about the whole thing - on the one hand, it's nice to know that it's a lot harder to sneak into the building now. On the other hand, the nice lady with a computer monitor is probably not going to be able to stop a crazy person. Excuse me while I quell my anxiety about such things and the world in general. Back in a moment. 

It took me about two minutes to realize I'd made a grievous mistake. Not about Hugmonkey, though. He was an angel.

No, it was the topic of the chat - how to get your kids to do their homework independently. Which is fine, I know most of the parents aren't sitting around writing blog posts with a similar theme. Or the exact same advice. But could we not have called it a "curriculum chat" then?

Also, how come no one told me that the principal has parents sign in - with the kid's name and teacher - at these events? Do you think she keeps a list of most dedicated parents or something? No wonder she's not friendlier with me at drop off.

I think what was most frustrating, though, was that I have questions about the actual curriculum - and I know a number of other parents who have concerns as well. At the end, the principal told us what the kids were doing academically at that particular moment. As if third graders weren't able to report on what they're doing in class, or as if the parents who show up at "curriculum chats" don't look at our kids' work on a regular basis.

Look, my kids go to a great school. Especially when compared with many public schools in our country. But the science curriculum - which the teachers are REQUIRED to use, and which students are tested according to - still lists Pluto as a planet. Ironflower got a question wrong on a math test not because she got the wrong answer (it was right) or that she didn't show her work (she did), but because she didn't use the methodology that the curriculum wanted her to use. I'm all for teaching kids different ways to solve problems, but then you discuss them as a class and let the kids choose the methodologies that make the most sense to them. You don't penalize a kid for choosing a different method, or mark answer wrong because a kid could do the math in his head and didn't have to estimate (as happened with one of Ironflower's classmates).

Of course, this may be why the principal doesn't have actual curriculum chats. I have no idea how much leeway she has over the curriculum versus how much control the school board has, but I think I want to find out.

The truth is, I don't want to home school so much as design the curriculum that my children learn from. Except in music. The music curriculum rocks. I'm fine with art and technology and PE as well, come to think of it. But I can't decide if my concerns about the curriculum come from being a control freak ex-teacher or if I should be genuinely concerned. I mean, it's not going to kill Ironflower to get a few answers wrong. Right?

The Urge To Homeschool Strikes Again

Ironflower recently told me that she hates school.

Since Ironflower was the kid who cried when she had to leave preschool each day, this is not good. Not that it would be good anyway, of course, but in other kids it might make sense. Lovebug, for example, who is still struggling with the transition to the full day of first grade and who would rather be home playing with his Legos than just about anything, doesn't hate school.

When I went with her class to the Book Fair, I was uncomfortable. Her teacher had them pair up by asking each child to pick a partner, leaving the last two kids to pair up by default. They looked upset. No one seemed to care.  It killed me and it wasn't even my kid. When we walked to the fair, Ironflower held my hand the entire time. She did not do that in first grade or in kindergarten.

The class was the least cohesive class I've ever seen; pairs hardly communicated at all. When I went to the Fair with Lovebug's class, they all chattered with each other and Lovebug hung out with his buddies and his teacher didn't have them pick partners. Lovebug, my affectionate boy, hardly held my hand at all.

Since then, I've heard stories of bullying in Ironflower's class. I'm not surprised. The bullying upsets Ironflower even though it hasn't happened to her so far.

She picked out her outfit and hair accessory. 

And then there's the school work. It is piles of worksheets that cover the same topic. The same topic that Ironflower understood after the first work sheet. During independent reading time, Ironflower is not allowed to get more books. Some days she finishes two chapter books in the time allotted for reading, but she can't get more books. I don't quite understand. She seemed nervous when I suggested she bring a book from home to keep in her desk. 

Finally, there's the look on her face when I suggested that she ask her teacher something. She looked horrified. My friendly, assertive, roller coaster riding kid looked nervous. 

I never thought I would have trouble talking to my kids' teachers. But I have no idea what to say to this woman without being like, "Do you not know anything about children? Why are you giving them so many work sheets? Why do you want them to be bored? Do you not like the kids who are getting picked on? Can I just sit here and observe for a few days so that I can judge your professional competence?" 

I don't think those questions would be very effective. Any suggestions? 

Back To School Night: I Have Issues

I'm starting to think my town's Back-to-School night is some kind of PR campaign. There were dewy-eyed testimonials. And product placements. And speeches that sounded like those a copywriter would create. While they made our school sound completely wonderful, there were no numbers. No test scores. No data at all.

It was like the Republican National Convention of Back-to-School nights.

Taken in the school's courtyard/garden/awesomespace

I mean, I do happen to think the school is pretty great. But it's a public school. A very well-respected public school with a good ranking. It's not like we need to recruit people, right? Especially the people who are already there on Back-to-School night.

Maybe I'm just jealous that the teachers got to study with Lucy Calkins this summer. She was my first teaching idol.

The classroom presentations were fine. Of course. I was actually touched to see that Lovebug's veteran and award-winning teacher got nervous speaking to a room full of adults. She made a point of telling me how sweet Lovebug is, and how hard he is trying in class. He still hasn't quite adjusted to the full day. Ironflower's teacher wasn't as warm, but she does seem to have a sense of humor. Hot Guy went to Hugmonkey's class, but it sounds like they just went through everything that I heard at the meeting last spring. Plus, I already love his teacher.

Anyway, it was the whole group presentation that bugged me. It was so non-specific and rah-rah. I suppose that's why half the parents stood in the hallway talking loudly during it. I know I should be condemning (or politely ignoring) their rudeness, but mostly I was jealous.

Obviously I need to meditate more on my jealousy issues.

I guess I'm just used to hearing more hard data on these occasions. After teaching in an urban public school for so many years, where test scores mattered so much, I find it weird that no one even mentioned testing or attendance or even PTO membership. Though we did get asked to join the PTO, the educational foundation, the music and arts foundation and to support the after school program.

Why I Should Just Home School

I was supposed to read to Ironflower's class today, during their library time.

(Slightly off topic, but I'm not sure if I get the point of this volunteerism, other than to make life easier for the school librarian. And is that really necessary? I've subbed as a school librarian before. It's an awesome gig if you like books and kids. I mean, I don't mind doing it because I like reading to kids and all, but I read to mine every day. I'm pretty sure Ironflower would rather hear the librarian's choices at this point.)

Of course, when I got the email telling me my time it was October, so I just put it in my Google calendar and forgot about it. I was not smart enough to give myself decent reminders, so when the one popped up this morning I may have freaked out a little. I had no one to watch Hugmonkey, Lovebug had to be at school at the exact same time and my horrible cold is still trying to kill me. Luckily another mom was able to trade days with me. (And yes, I have set up 10 reminders for that day, starting a week in advance so I can organize everything). She is my new favorite person, even though I'm not entirely sure I could pick her out of a crowd.

Anyway, after that fun morning I loaded the kids up to take them to school.

Except the car wouldn't start. I knew it was the battery and I do have jumper cables, but not one neighbor I have actually spoken to/am sure is not a serial killer/is under 90 appeared to be home. I couldn't get ahold of my mom and Hot Guy could not leave work. The garage said it would be at least an hour. Which, considering Lovebug's school lasts for 2.5 hours and Ironflower's for 3, seemed like a bigger pain than it would actually be worth.

Clearly I am not cut out for this suburban PTA mom gig.

Now I suppose if I was really meant to home school, we'd be doing learning activities right now instead of watching the Alvin and the Chipmunks sequel. But then again, I'm sure there's something they can learn from Alvin and his squeaky friends, right? Doesn't it count as music appreciation?

Possibly My Most Shocking Post Ever

I suppose you can blame it on the prospect of sending Ironflower to afternoon kindergarten. We were informed at the kindergarten orientation that "not every child can be in morning kindergarten" and that some parents had already sent letters - from their lawyers - requesting morning kindergarten. We don't have a lawyer on retainer, so immediately I assumed that Ironflower would be an afternoon kid. My main reason for wanting Ironflower in morning kindergarten is that I would like to have both the older kids at school at the same time. Fortunately, the preschool MAY have afternoon pre-k next year. So I could get my wish. . . and have mornings to do fun things with my kids.

Because afternoons? Well, ChunkyMonkey has to nap. And usually, after a busy morning at school, so does Lovebug. Even Ironflower needs to decompress on school days. In the afternoon, my kids are kind of done with structure. They just want to chill. Which is fine. . .except that the teacher in me really wants to teach them things.

But if we had mornings together when they're all fresh and cheerful and haven't been beaten down by the man yet. . .er, I mean participated in quality educational programs. . .we could do so many fun things. And then I had this vision of homeschooling them.

Right now, all my former colleagues - with whom I used to teach public school - are probably staring open-mouthed at the screen. My mother is probably dialing my number, ready to say, "Oh, Jenny" just like she did when I told her I got a tattoo. And my husband is probably hoping that he's going to wake up from this bad dream.

I think I know one person who homeschools, maybe 3 people if you count bloggy friends. In every case, the parent made the choice because of her child's health issues. That, of course, has nothing to do with my choice. Nor does Christianity, because I'm about as far away from an Evangelical Christian as you can get without actually practicing Santeria. It has do to with me. And what I want for my kids. And my desire to be authentic.

I'm not saying I'm going to homeschool. I'm not even saying that I necessarily want to homeschool. I'm just saying that as a former public school teacher, I do understand the limitations of our current school system and the whole testing culture that has invaded. I understand how nasty kids can be (sure, there are nasty adults out there, but the percentage of nasty kids is far higher. . ..check out your high school classmates on Facebook and see if I'm right). I understand that even at the best high schools there is a lot of time wasted on busy work.

We live in an amazing school district - one that is a huge strain financially. And one in which I think people may focus on the wrong things.  If we were a homeschooling family, we wouldn't need to worry about school districts. We would have so much more freedom in choosing where to live. . .and when to vacation. . .and when to take a trip to the zoo. . .and yes, what our children learn. And the teacher in me is filled with joy at that prospect.

What do you think? Would you homeschool?