So Ironflower is back to liking school. She is still bored academically, though she tells me that her teacher is going to start reading groups soon. Taking more than 7 weeks to start reading groups seems a little ridiculous to me, but I taught in a different kind of world.
Anyway, she says the bullying has stopped, so that's good news. I think that was the biggest problem, honestly. Hot Guy and I have always been really strict about not excluding people and being kind to them and Ironflower has taken it to heart. I am proud of this, of course, but it does make it difficult when Ironflower encounters kids whose parents encourage them to exclude others.
I have not talked to her teacher because I don't think it would help. She's already taken care of the bullying and I don't think it will help on the academics. It's not something that she wouldn't already be aware of, she grades all their papers. Differentiated instruction is just not a priority for her and my complaining about it isn't going to change her methodology. Plus, I don't want her to go from liking my kid to not liking my kid because of my complaints.
Yeah, that can happen.
We'll just have to do some more stuff at home. And cross our fingers that things keep getting better.
Showing posts with label school. Show all posts
Showing posts with label school. Show all posts
10/23/2012
9/24/2012
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.
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.
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.
9/29/2011
What Kind of School Do Your Kids Go To?
So, as all 10 of you reading this probably already know, I used to be a teacher. In the - how to say this in the least offensive way? - kind of neighborhoods where you can buy crack more easily than you can buy fresh vegetables. As a teacher, I'm the veteran of many Back-to-School nights. As a parent, not so much. So I'm still entertained by comparing the Back-to-School nights at my old school versus the ones at my kids' school, which is in the kind of neighborhood where it's easier to buy organic vegetables than crack. Or meth. Or Twinkies.
Because I occasionally miss teaching, I tried to make a comparison chart, but html hates me. So instead I made lists:
My Kids' School
1. Teacher Attire: Tastefully sexy dresses, high heels.
2. Crowd: Large, attentive, more fake smiles than a dental convention.
3. Decorations: Student work taped to walls.
4. In class presentations: On the Smartboard, aided by videos and/or photos of the kids. Describing a typical day in the classroom and a detailed description of the curriculum. Parents sit on student chairs.
5. Sign-Ups: Parent-teacher conferences in 6 weeks. Full.
6. General presentations: Principal, PTO vice-president, Educational Foundation president, arts association president, after-school program director. Snacks.
7. Handouts: Student work, large homework projects due the following month.
8. What I did after: chatted with other parents, summarized the evening for husband.
My Old School:
1. Teacher Attire: Conservative dresses to prevent leering, flat shoes for speed in the parking lot.
2. Crowd: Small, not overtly hostile.
3. Decorations: Student work stapled carefully to butcher paper that has color-coordinated borders.
4. In class presentations: Detailed description of class rules, summary of curriculum. Parents sit on folding chairs because teachers were told it was insulting to expect adults to sit on student chairs.
5. Sign-Ups: For volunteering in the classroom. Empty.
6. General presentations: Principal and PTO president talked briefly. Except for the years when there was no PTO.
7. Handouts: Class rule review and description of homework expectations.
8. What I did after: Got drunk with my co-workers.
Because I occasionally miss teaching, I tried to make a comparison chart, but html hates me. So instead I made lists:
My Kids' School
1. Teacher Attire: Tastefully sexy dresses, high heels.
2. Crowd: Large, attentive, more fake smiles than a dental convention.
3. Decorations: Student work taped to walls.
4. In class presentations: On the Smartboard, aided by videos and/or photos of the kids. Describing a typical day in the classroom and a detailed description of the curriculum. Parents sit on student chairs.
5. Sign-Ups: Parent-teacher conferences in 6 weeks. Full.
6. General presentations: Principal, PTO vice-president, Educational Foundation president, arts association president, after-school program director. Snacks.
7. Handouts: Student work, large homework projects due the following month.
8. What I did after: chatted with other parents, summarized the evening for husband.
My Old School:
1. Teacher Attire: Conservative dresses to prevent leering, flat shoes for speed in the parking lot.
2. Crowd: Small, not overtly hostile.
3. Decorations: Student work stapled carefully to butcher paper that has color-coordinated borders.
4. In class presentations: Detailed description of class rules, summary of curriculum. Parents sit on folding chairs because teachers were told it was insulting to expect adults to sit on student chairs.
5. Sign-Ups: For volunteering in the classroom. Empty.
6. General presentations: Principal and PTO president talked briefly. Except for the years when there was no PTO.
7. Handouts: Class rule review and description of homework expectations.
8. What I did after: Got drunk with my co-workers.
9/16/2011
Crisis Management
The thing you do not want to see when you arrive at school to pick up your child is an ambulance parked outside the back entrance. Especially if it's accompanied by 2 police cars. Hot Guy voiced my fears, "I hope nothing happened to a kid." We decided he would walk around to get Ironflower while I stood with the boys. A woman I'd never seen before was screaming at everyone to hurry up and go home, to leave school property.
Since the bell had just rung and the announcement to get off school property had just been made, I thought the woman was being a little harsh. I was about to take the boys back to the car when I noticed some of Ironflower's former kindergarten classmates standing next to the playground, looking stunned. Their moms tend to just meet them on the playground, often a few minutes after the bell. But of course the police had recently blocked the driveway into the school, so their moms weren't there.
Frankly, it appalled me that these just begun first graders had been dismissed without a parent when obviously SOMETHING was going on. The screaming woman screamed at them to get going and they looked at me. I led them to the principal who had them stand by the driveway. I returned to find Hot Guy and Ironflower, but I was not ready to leave.
Obviously, the inner city school where I taught had a lot more opportunities to handle crises. There were lockdowns from the occasional shoot out and dismissals that had to be handled a certain way to avoid this or that scene. But OMG, my kids' school really needs to update their crisis management handbooks.
After Hot Guy took our kids to the car, I shepherded more and more bewildered kids to an area at the side of the building so they could wait for their parents. I tried to let the principal know each time I found more, as no other staff member (except the screaming woman, who I would not have delivered child to under any circumstances) was present. During that time, several of them got to see the beloved janitor wheeled out on a gurney and loaded into the ambulance.
An email we got later assured us that he would be fine. Obviously they were trying to get rid of everyone before he had to leave in the ambulance but they had NO IDEA what they were doing. Either everyone could have stayed in their classrooms for a few extra minutes so NO kids saw him, OR teachers could have taken all students who didn't have parents at their classroom door to the office. Whoever thought letting bewildered first graders just wait by themselves for their parents (while staring at cop cars and an ambulance) was a good idea definitely needs a crisis management course.
I have no idea who the screaming woman was, but I can't believe that's what they choose to have her do. I can't believe that no one was sent to look for/watch/care about the parent-less kids, that they thought it would be better to have her terrify them.
I really want to be emailing this - more politely worded, of course - to the principal. The email we received said how well everyone handled the crisis, which was total bullshit. Now, again, I know there are probably not going to be shoot-outs, wanted fugitives, drunk parents or even more medical issues at the school this year. They probably won't have a crisis for years, if ever. But what if they do? I mean, we have had an earthquake, a hurricane and flooding in the past couple of weeks.
Since the bell had just rung and the announcement to get off school property had just been made, I thought the woman was being a little harsh. I was about to take the boys back to the car when I noticed some of Ironflower's former kindergarten classmates standing next to the playground, looking stunned. Their moms tend to just meet them on the playground, often a few minutes after the bell. But of course the police had recently blocked the driveway into the school, so their moms weren't there.
Frankly, it appalled me that these just begun first graders had been dismissed without a parent when obviously SOMETHING was going on. The screaming woman screamed at them to get going and they looked at me. I led them to the principal who had them stand by the driveway. I returned to find Hot Guy and Ironflower, but I was not ready to leave.
Obviously, the inner city school where I taught had a lot more opportunities to handle crises. There were lockdowns from the occasional shoot out and dismissals that had to be handled a certain way to avoid this or that scene. But OMG, my kids' school really needs to update their crisis management handbooks.
After Hot Guy took our kids to the car, I shepherded more and more bewildered kids to an area at the side of the building so they could wait for their parents. I tried to let the principal know each time I found more, as no other staff member (except the screaming woman, who I would not have delivered child to under any circumstances) was present. During that time, several of them got to see the beloved janitor wheeled out on a gurney and loaded into the ambulance.
An email we got later assured us that he would be fine. Obviously they were trying to get rid of everyone before he had to leave in the ambulance but they had NO IDEA what they were doing. Either everyone could have stayed in their classrooms for a few extra minutes so NO kids saw him, OR teachers could have taken all students who didn't have parents at their classroom door to the office. Whoever thought letting bewildered first graders just wait by themselves for their parents (while staring at cop cars and an ambulance) was a good idea definitely needs a crisis management course.
I have no idea who the screaming woman was, but I can't believe that's what they choose to have her do. I can't believe that no one was sent to look for/watch/care about the parent-less kids, that they thought it would be better to have her terrify them.
I really want to be emailing this - more politely worded, of course - to the principal. The email we received said how well everyone handled the crisis, which was total bullshit. Now, again, I know there are probably not going to be shoot-outs, wanted fugitives, drunk parents or even more medical issues at the school this year. They probably won't have a crisis for years, if ever. But what if they do? I mean, we have had an earthquake, a hurricane and flooding in the past couple of weeks.
3/23/2009
I Think I May Not Be Enough Of A Cynical Bitch
Back when I taught school in the 'hood, I was thrilled to death when parents offered to help me. And by help me, I mean send their kids to school well-rested and well-loved. Helping out in the classroom was a bonus I didn't count on. In fact, one year I did not have help at one single party , though I did have a few parents sit and watch while I set everything up. That also happened to be the year I had the most behavior problems. Just sayin'.
Anyway, I never planned to raise my own children in a similar environment. I knew their school experiences would be filled with volunteering parents, because that's how it works around here. But there's volunteering parents, and then there's volunteering parents who desperately need psychotherapy.
The other day I heard about "theme day" at the elementary schools in the next town over. The school picks a theme, each class does an aspect of that theme in their room and naturally the parents help a lot. They spend hundreds of dollars of their own money they stay at the school until all hours just to make sure that little Johnny or Julie has an especially authentic experience while never leaving the school grounds. As I heard about that part of it, I was already pretty sure that despite my years of study learning how to truly stimulate young minds that I would not be very involved in theme day. Because for theme day to actually teach them anything they should be doing most of the decorating themselves, not sleeping at home while their moms build covered wagons (true story).
But I sort of got it. I mean, it's fun to create things for the kids. And, of course, I think that a number of people around here miss high school desperately and this gives them a chance to be creative and competitive at the same time, all in the name of being good parents. I silently chided myself for being such a cynical bitch. Then another mom shared another true story.
One about how an EVENT PLANNER was hired by one class' set of parents on theme day last year.
EVENT FUCKING PLANNER for a school theme day.
The mom, who said that the class' theme was the country of India, did mention that the room felt very authentically Indian.
I'm pretty sure my mouth dropped open.
The mom mentioned that she thought that things might be getting out of control for theme day. Gee, really? Maybe next year they could just go to India for theme day instead.
I still couldn't close my mouth.
Other moms expressed mild shock and dismay. The covered wagon mom said that she would have appreciated somebody else doing the wagon.
I thought about moving before I ruin my children socially for not being willing to pay for an event planner for theme day.
Anyway, I never planned to raise my own children in a similar environment. I knew their school experiences would be filled with volunteering parents, because that's how it works around here. But there's volunteering parents, and then there's volunteering parents who desperately need psychotherapy.
The other day I heard about "theme day" at the elementary schools in the next town over. The school picks a theme, each class does an aspect of that theme in their room and naturally the parents help a lot. They spend hundreds of dollars of their own money they stay at the school until all hours just to make sure that little Johnny or Julie has an especially authentic experience while never leaving the school grounds. As I heard about that part of it, I was already pretty sure that despite my years of study learning how to truly stimulate young minds that I would not be very involved in theme day. Because for theme day to actually teach them anything they should be doing most of the decorating themselves, not sleeping at home while their moms build covered wagons (true story).
But I sort of got it. I mean, it's fun to create things for the kids. And, of course, I think that a number of people around here miss high school desperately and this gives them a chance to be creative and competitive at the same time, all in the name of being good parents. I silently chided myself for being such a cynical bitch. Then another mom shared another true story.
One about how an EVENT PLANNER was hired by one class' set of parents on theme day last year.
EVENT FUCKING PLANNER for a school theme day.
The mom, who said that the class' theme was the country of India, did mention that the room felt very authentically Indian.
I'm pretty sure my mouth dropped open.
The mom mentioned that she thought that things might be getting out of control for theme day. Gee, really? Maybe next year they could just go to India for theme day instead.
I still couldn't close my mouth.
Other moms expressed mild shock and dismay. The covered wagon mom said that she would have appreciated somebody else doing the wagon.
I thought about moving before I ruin my children socially for not being willing to pay for an event planner for theme day.
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