Making us all look like schlemiels

I am sure that every teacher who reads this or other education blogs works in place that has rules. They may be called "expectations," or "behavior markers," or even dopier things like "the Panther Path" or the "Warrior Way" or the "Cardinal Code," but whatever you call 'em, there they are.

Until they're not.

We have a bunch of these behavioral prohibitions ourselves. Some are mandated by state law: no smoking on campus, no gambling, no fencing of stolen merchandise, no assault-- you get the picture. Then there's more minor rules: no use of cell phones or mp3 players, except during lunch. Wear your IDs. Follow the directions of adults on staff. No obscene language.

Now the enforcement of these prohibitions can be spotty. But here's what gets in my craw: During announcements, it was proclaimed that students were not allowed to leave campus once they were on campus-- not even to dash across the street to smoke. This policy was henceforth going to be rigorously enforced! Consequences would be meted out with justice for all!

It lasted one day.

The next morning they had moved behind some bushes, so that at least our incompetence was not paraded in front of the entire world. The day after that they were back where they had started. The next day, they were openly standing in front of the main entrance. There they were puffing on their "gaspers" and creating clouds of smoke that could patch the hole in the ozone layer. Our Dear Leader not only shrugged it off, but snapped at those who dared bring it up.

So here's the deal: Listen, toots. I don't care what the rule is, if you are not going to enforce it, then at least don't draw attention to the fact that you cannot handle all aspects of your job. Worse still, I especially hate it when YOU make a big deal about something and then promptly back off.

It makes us look like schmucks. It erodes any sense of authority. It makes it clear that the inmates are running the asylum. It also encourages kids to keep pushing until they finally find out what the boundaries are, if indeed there are any. Now your excuse is that there are bigger problems going on around school. That is true. But, there's this thing called the "broken windows" theory. I'm too annoyed to go into it fully, plus my martini is getting warm, but basically it's this: when you stop enforcing smaller rules, the community begins a death spiral toward major lawlessness.

Your momentary twinge of enforcement merely draws attention to the fact that not much is enforced around here. So you want to know what would make teachers morale improve?

How about this: Pick one rule, no matter how tiny. Something that would actually make a difference around this place.

And then enforce it. Firmly, subtly, consistently.

I dare you.

What mentoring will teach you

I have a teacher whom I am mentoring this year. She is not a fully new teacher, but she is new to our district. And you know what this experience has taught me already this year?

We are expected to juggle so many disparate tasks throughout the class period, the day, and the grading period, it's unbelievable. There is so much we are just expect to know how to do. You have to know the secret process for adding in behavior grades to the electronic grade book, how to interpret the attendance codes, how to fill out the new behavior referrals, how much parental contact is expected, which principals one can rely upon and which principals are completely non-supportive and clueless, how to generate and finalize grades and reports, and so on.

I am learning as much as she is. Primarily, that the demands of this job can be bewildering. I've just gotten inured to it.

The Eight-legged Administrator Rides Again

It's amazing how bosses everywhere seem to think that meetings are actually productive uses of ANYONE'S time. Faculty meetings are no exception. When I first started blogging, there was a great blog called "The Endless Faculty Meeting." I loved it because if faculty meetings were that cutting, we might actually enjoy them.

In one school in which I taught, we had faculty meetings on Fridays after school. It's amazing that someone didn't throw a ninja star made out of overhead projector parts at her head. You can already guess that this idea occurred to at least one person trapped there every other Friday.

My favorite thing is when we have faculty meetings on the shank end of parent-teacher conferences, and the PTB allow the tech dude Mr. Babbage (who smells like what I imagine Snoop Dogg probably smells like, if you get my drift) twenty minutes of every single meeting, even if he has nothing productive to say. So far, the only thing that Mr. Babbage HAS said every single meeting is this: "Well, this isn't working right now, but if it WAS working, this is what you'd see...." and then a fifteen minute wall of sound complete with reverb about what the imaginary techie thing might look like. I am tempted to say: "If it won't work on your brand-new MacBook Pro, it sure as HELL isn't going to work on my ten-year-old iMac," but that would then prolong the meeting, so many of us amuse ourselves by playing BuzzWord Bingo and messing around on our smartphones. I personally have sought to perfect a fixed expression in which I unfocus my eyes and meditate with a faint smile on my face.

I was right in the middle of a mantra when I suddenly came back to earth with a bang in the last meeting. First, some backstory: we have the bottom part of an eight-legged administrator on staff (Mr. Leckmichhorst) who haunts the main office, filling our principal's head with loads of sweet nothings for hours on end. He sucks up as only one whose vast incompetence and mental inertia is matched by his naked ambition to rise into the lofty ranks of middle-management can suck up. Only if he started biting on his pinkie finger while wearing a leer and a Nehru jacket could this performance be any more perfect. After his tete-a-tetes at the feet of the Throne of Power, he then comes back and regales his clan of hyenas with how stupid the principal is. Leckmichhorst's unintentional impression of the late Alexander Haig claiming control of the White House is spot on, I have to admit, and just as delusional.

Imagine my surprise when Mr. Leckmichhorst rose upon his hindlegs at the podium and started talking about how our school was going to be absolutely TRANSFORMED by adopting a new behavioral management system that rewards the kiddies with gold star stickers and that utilizes weird acronyms like PAHTOOTY or DERRIERE or something like that. His assurance that this NEW! FABULOUS! SYSTEM! wouldn't put any more work on the plates of teachers was truly jaw-dropping in its disingenuous brilliance. We were led to believe that we would practically be able to play SkeeBall in all the halos sprouting above kids' heads under this system, and that all the old referral forms that would be henceforth obsolete could create a bonfire from that would be visible to astronauts on the International Space Station. There wasn't even a whiff of ozone detectable as this dude sat up there and lied his face off promoting a plan he has ruthlessly mocked for months. So that, in his own words, "I can get a $30,000 raise next year!"

Wow. What a performance-- and just when Oscar nominations are being handed out. But you can't save people from their own moral squishiness OR their own naivete, so back to the meditation.

Om. Om, dammit.

Deep breath... and let the whinging begin!

Okay, so I haven't been the best blogger in the world, and I most sincerely want you to know I am still among the living. I will try to be better, but my family has been diverting my attention-- which is a euphemism for "they've been driving me stark raving mad and I've barely been keeping it together." I'm sure many others can relate to the madness which overcomes one when one is the parent of teenagers.

So I wonder if anyone can also relate to this?

I am being punished by the district IT people. I am being kicked to the curb like a truculent ten year old... and my students are the ones who suffer, as well as my own frustration which of course is no consequence in the calculus of the modern school, as many of those who teach can attest.

I have a computer which is admittedly gimpy. It is about three years old, but has a rotten brain, as they say in Young Frankenstein. And I can't give this benighted piece of crap a "sedagive" to make it all better. But here's the best part, neither WILL the district IT people.

The district has hoops through which one must jump in order to receive the latest technology. These hoops require attending hours upon hours of classes on software that is either A) not necessary for my subject or grade level, or B) requires the use of ancillary items that are practically nonexistent in my building, thereby also rendering these programs useless. For instance, imagine taking a class in GarageBand with no access to microphones, or on iMovie with no access to a digital camera or a decent processor speed or updated hardware.

Imagine being expected to create a website on the district server (which goes down every time it rains, and we've had record rainfall) with software which is four years old and requires a "mere" fifteen to twenty hours to create a cartoony, clunky webpage which has all the charm of a watercolor done by an elephant. A blind elephant. With a broken trunk.

So I began this process, a while ago, but found that I resented the time away from my family to test out on software that would never either be willing or able to use. So I stopped. And anyone who knows me knows that "Never ever ever give up," is not just a quote from Winston Churchill to me, but is actually more of a creed.

So, now, even though the machine upon which I work has been recalled, the IT people refuse to replace it with one that actually is dependable and reliable. Unless I agree to twist my fat, middle-aged, and exhausted Great Dane body through poodle-sized hoops.

Then let us describe the firewall software that allegedly protects us and our students from dastardly images and video clips. F'r instance: type in the terms "Panama canal" or "analysis" or "breastworks" and you will run up against the firewall and its dire warnings that "this attempt to access inappropriate content has been recorded." Extra credit for those who can guess why the firewall is triggered by these terms. It's like smacking a fly with a dead and much-decayed mackerel, and then being surprised by the repugnant and yet completely ineffective results.

This is an IT department that is a confederacy of dunces. This is an IT department that lives and dies by the following sentiment: "Above all, we must abolish hope in the heart of man. A calm despair, without angry convulsions, without reproaches to Heaven, is the essence of wisdom."

So here's the deal: this computer will eventually die. You know it, evil IT bonobos.

And when it dies, I will sadly be unable to do all of the techy things, the mundane, annoying techy things like taking attendance, posting grades, answering parental emails, and the like that have been ladled onto me like two day old gravy by administrators and tech people who think that all I have to do in the world is dance to their evil, tinny, little organ grinding away like a scratchy rewound cassette recording of Justin Timberlake from back when he was a Mousketeer in lieu of this thing which is actually quite difficult called "teaching." I'm sure you've heard of it-- since...

it makes your insipid little job possible at all.

I thought I might remind you of this tiny fact, since if there were no teachers, there would be no students. And no students would equal no taxpayers who pay for you to waste countless hours listening to the Coverville podcast or whatever else you do in your ridiculous TRON T-shirts and anime tattoos.

And if you still don't get it, IT chimps, come on down and take a turn in front of thirty ennui-saturated teenagers and try to penetrate the fog of their existence with skills and curriculum. I dare you. And I'll spend a day in YOUR jobs, imagining that technology will some day replace actual teaching and human interaction.

Never a good sign....

... when every teacher you encounter in the hallway is slumped against the lockers with their heads drooping on their necks like a jack-in-the-box.

... when a kid who just doesn't understand why she doesn't have an A in your class says to you, after you've been discussing the presidency of Nixon for almost a week, says, "Wait-- you mean Nixon was a Republican?????"

.... when an AP approaches you and starts making jokes and then says, "Listen, I have a great proposition for you...."

Run. Run and hide.

You think this machine is your friend*....

A while back our district moved to using a web-based grading program. It was going to be amazing! It was going to increase transparency! It was going to reduce the amount of time teachers spent on grades! It was going to slice, dice, and make julienne fries!

When this was initiated, one person asked what would happen if the internet would go down. She was laughed out of the room. Silly peon! The internet doesn't go down!

Then they forgot the little part about how teachers can't put any grades in when the server goes down.

Which happened five out of nine school days. Right before grades are due.

So maybe my friend used the wrong terminology, but she got the question right.

And guess what? They moved all the disciplinary records and all the information about student schedules to the internet, too! So now, at least the principals and secretaries feel our pain, too, because they can't do any discipline or even access where a kid is when the server goes down.

Did I mention it goes down a LOT?

So I am not staying at school until 5 (which by the way, we were asked to do once last year while they frantically tried to get the server back up in time for report cards to be sent out the next day). I do not take work home with me since I have my own children to bathe, feed, and monitor until I collapse into bed, and you can't access the grade program from home anyway.

So let's just say that there are a few grades that have not been entered. And today was my plan period, and guess what? The server was down again. So more grades weren't entered and I don't have a break tomorrow, either.

Technology is great. Until you actually have to depend upon it.

*-- line about a computer from You've Got Mail.

A question arises from a discussion I had...

...and I wanted to ask you, dear readers:

How many of you have had experience with AVID? It sounds just like a program we used to do in middle school that involved religious use of planners, three ring binders, and double-column notes. It required about an hour a week to implement and oversee.

Info? Praise? Horror stories?

Let's dish. I shall post info from you if someone deigns to enlighten me.

***Update: With thanks for all of the wonderful responses thus far, here's what I've learned thus far:

Kari said: "HS AVID focuses heavily on study skills, reading and writing collaboration, and critical thinking. In a typical week in AVID, we have tutorials twice a week (this is how I got started with the program--ideally districts will be able to hire college student tutors), class instruction/practice/discussion with a variety of reading and writing topics, and one day a week of guest speakers, team-building, or some other activity.

"With freshman AVID, I focus primarily on organization, note-taking, and study skills. Sophomores build on that, and I add more writing and class discussions. Junior year is about all that plus SAT/ACT prep and writing their college essays (end of their junior year) and senior year is all of that (well, not much in the way of study skills by that point--they pretty much have it down) plus college apps, financial aid and scholarship apps, and preparing them to go off to college (my seniors read The Idiot's Guide to College Success and The Professor's Guide to Getting Good Grades in College.)

We also have a site team with teachers from different departments, and we meet to discuss how to support the program and its goals for all students, not just AVID students, as well as to discuss the needs of certain students."

Mrs Temple said: "I am on our HS site team and I agree the AVID Summer Institute is awesome. AVID is a program that targets the "students in the middle". The typical AVID student is a first-generation college student, B to C student in regular classes, with potential to do more, often-times, English is not their first language. The AVID program provides support for those students to tackle more challenging courses through tutorials, a "family-like" atmosphere, etc. AVID students are expected to learn study skills such as keeping a notebook, Cornell notes, etc. The AVID concept encourages the use of the WICR (Writing, Inquiry, Collaboration, and Reading) strategies, which are really "Best Practices"."

Longtime pal Polski3 said: "Our school is being "AVIDized" in that we are being taught to incorporate "AVID techniques" into our teaching. We also have several regular AVID classes in which students are carefully nonimated and screened prior to enrollment.

"As for what I do in my classroom that is "AVID": begin to teach my students the Cornell Notetaking format....notebook paper with two columns one that is about two-thirds of the page for notes, definitions, pictures/illustrations/graphs, and other data and one column about one-third of the page, for questions, either teacher generated or study questions written by the student in which the answer is there in the other column in their data. It also includes summarizing and can include illustrating the data In part to demonstrate understanding/clarification of what they learned about the data).

"There are several "usable" things you can find on the AVID website; a couple of our teachers have been to the training and brought back AVID notebooks for such things as AVIDizing Social Studies (IIRC). One idea I am using from this is students taking a small bit of text ( such as a subsection of a history chapter), reading it, writing a question about it, summarizing it in one or two sentences then creating a simple illustration to "illustrate" it.

"I find some of my seventh graders easily get the "AVID" stuff; struggling ELL's have a harder time with it.

"I think it is a worthwhile program; IT is not the savior of US Education. IT has helped many, many "upper middle" kids do better academically and go on to later academic success. AVID is not for your GATE kids; AVID techniques such as successfully mastering the creation of and use of Cornell Notes is a study/academic skill beneficial to all students."

100Farmers said: "Good-targeting nontraditional college bound kids. More teachers involved with keeping track of students progress.

"Bad-too many core teachers teaching a class of Avid which makes core class sizes too large. Kinda defeats the purpose with kids getting lost in classroom now."

Thanks for the imput!