Winded

The wind has been whistling, gusting, blowing, buffeting, pummeling, and it has come sweeping down the plains for the entire month of March. As a life long Oklahoman, I have learned to accept and adapt to any weather happenings. Will Rogers' "wait a minute and it will change" comment about Oklahoma weather may have filtered into my outlook on educational policy too. I have been hoping for a deeper respect for teachers in our state. Is that minute finally here? We will end this windy month with a rally at the state capital for education.
Wind's steady blustering could be a metaphor for the swirling rhetoric about education and its "reform" in the country and specifically our state.
The wind could be like a politician's words: exhausting when you are facing it in the elements, but quickly forgotten when you step inside and away from it's breadth.
It could be like the multitude of mandates from up high for increasing student outcome: whipping flyers around in frantic circles in empty corners. 
We could easily continue comparing mussed hair, and lost conversations, and grit blown in your face to the education debate.

But I'm hoping for a divergent metaphor. I want the wind to be a force for change. A clearing of the air in the public discourse on education, so that all concerned individuals can listen, speak, and learn.
It takes a minimal amount of time for facts to be twisted to one side or the other. After reading an editorial by a lawmaker today, I was reminded of my meeting with Representative Turner a few weeks ago. Both lawmakers referenced this idea that money is being mismanaged in administration costs in schools. They are not willing to support bills that increase allocations toward school districts and they cite a supposed mismanagement of funds as a reason. They seem to take a shallow look at various facts they may have been handed by assistants, or fellow lawmakers, or ALEC, and combine that into a twisted outcome that no longer resembles the truth.
It is easy to become entrenched in our beliefs. I hope, however, that this rally shows that there is common ground between teachers, principals, parents, and elected officials. I'm hopeful that most if not all of the legislators will have meaningful, insightful conversations with their teacher constituents about education during or after the rally.
I'm not sure how else you convince someone that we need to have enough teachers at our school so that we could have block scheduling, if our district chooses to do that...that we need to have a minimal amount of standardized testing that does not take the place of the professional teacher's word and the parent's choice...that we need to remember what education can accomplish, and what it should not be expected to accomplish.
With the spotlight shining at the rally on funding, high stakes testing, and the third grade reading law (RSA) in particular, I was reminded of my own experiences in third grade. I learned the lyrics to the state song in my third grade class at Quail Creek Elementary. It would not have helped me on a test, but it did teach me about my state and music and how to sing with others. That was not too long after the 1989 rally for education in our state. Perhaps my teacher felt she had the autonomy to make educationally sound decisions to teach us about our state song. At the very least,  learning that song gave me insight, twenty years later, into education's connections to something as mercurial as wind.

I like big binders

Several years ago, I taught in my favorite middle school in Tulsa. The team I worked with was a dedicated group of professionals who still managed to make me enjoy faculty meetings (which can be a remarkable feat one should not underestimate!) One year, our school began a program called AVID, which was aimed at taking students on the proverbial cusp and helping them improve grades, and go to college or vocational school. At the annual talent show, the team decided to perform a song called "I Like Big Binders" to the tune of Sir Mix-A-Lot's more uncouth version. We practiced after school for several days and took the time to learn the lyrics. When the big day arrived, we pulled ourselves on stage and belted out our performance. It brought the house down thanks to our enthusiastic eighth grade audience.
Performing a song at a talent show could have had several effects, but the most important effect for me was building a shared sense of community for our students and teachers. Students who see me as a knowledgeable, caring source of help are more likely to perform well in class and on the test.
It's too bad that our state superintendent of education and some state legislators would not reach out to public educators in the same way we reached out to our students to build a community, rather than tearing down a teacher's professionalism via insincere emails.
They could invite more teachers to share their observations and analyses of their classrooms. They could make meaningful visits to a variety of schools. They could respond to questions educators and parents pose. They could acknowledge that despite a teacher's Herculean efforts to help children, not all of her students may see test scores improve. They could ask "How can we help your students?" and listen to our answers.

Stepping Under the Scaffolding

The wind was swaying the scaffolding at the state capital today when I made my way across the wide plaza after school. There were a number of people milling on the plaza to the south of the capital: a small school group, various business-suited types hurrying to and fro, and a construction worker or two leaning against the barriers in front of the steps. My directions said to step under the scaffolding and into the building to get to my destination. I often feel that I metaphorically have to duck and cover to speak about education with people that have very different points of view than I do on the subject matter, so why not do it literally as well.
 I have decided to be more vocal in sharing what I see in my school and what I believe will help support my students and colleagues on a daily basis. When I read the Daily Oklahoman article that quoted Representatives Mike Turner and Jason Murphy's comments on educators and parents who plan to rally at the capital on March 31 and the related blog responses, I knew I had to get started on using my voice. So I emailed Rep. Turner first and was surprised to get a reply. (I've emailed other representatives and senators in the past and not heard back from them...) He agreed to meet with me so I could share my observations in school, encourage him to support greater school funding, and discuss the high stakes testing my students must take.
I was hoping for an actual discussion about his strong point of view and the consequences of saying teachers are "participating in this gross abuse of your hard-earned money." Rep. Turner was willing to work with  my schedule and meet me after I left school. He was also willing to speak for as long as I wanted to. He was friendly and welcoming to his office. However, it was clear that he did not have concrete evidence to support generalities he made in the email he sent: "Let each school board sink or swim on their own merit; failed ones should be punished and good ones learned from." I pressed him for examples of "failed school boards" but never received a satisfactory answer. He did talk about hearing from other legislators and some school board members that there may be superintendents in some rural districts in our state that could be earning 300,000 dollars or more. I asked him to let me know which districts were paying that much. Looking at the state's report on superintendents' salaries, I didn't see anyone paid quite that much, and certainly not in rural areas.
We spoke about his view that schools should not be canceled for the rally. He proposed having an entire week in which only the amount of teachers that could be covered by subs came to lobby at the capital instead of canceling school. I reminded him that teachers are paid by day and would be making up that day at a later date, but any rebuttals I offered for why teachers should come to the capital (the legislature is unavailable during summer break, teachers are desperate to increase funding and decrease high stakes testing) did not seem to sway his stance.

As an allegedly bossy first born child, I would prefer to be able to say what should happen with education funding and then just have it done. And when that doesn't happen, I have to remember that it doesn't mean the discussion was worthless. While I did not walk away with a new convert to my views on education, I did not end up ducking and covering in my conversation with the representative.
It's actually sparked a desire to find more representatives and senators to talk to. I don't know what all I will be able to accomplish, but I am encouraged by the simple act of trying.

Meaningful Discussions

Seconds before the bell rang last Thursday for second hour, I was pouring over my copy of The Count of Monte Cristo, somewhat oblivious to the students coming in. I had just picked up the book to remind myself of what the students should have read for homework then night before. But it was only minutes before I found myself totally engrossed in how the Count's friend Maximilian was sneaking away to rendevous with his future fiance. A student seemed shocked to see me reading so furiously at school. He said, "I thought you just pretended to be that excited about reading  - I didn't realize you actually liked to read that much."
It took a minute for me to disentangle myself from the drama Maximilian had found himself in and then another minute for me to address what my student had said. I quickly assured him I was obsessed with reading and actually had a book at home (The Luminaries) that I was working on reading too.
I relished the chance to share my reading experiences and let the students see my genuine excitement. All readers should have the chance to do just that. I'd love to have an informal book club that catered to reluctant readers. We could start with a book, maybe Divergent, then move on to a graphic novel next. If I could build enough pre-excitement, maybe I could talk some students into reading Catcher in the Rye, because I know our school has a lot of those books and none of the teachers are currently teaching them.
We could meet in the library during lunches to distribute books, then again two or three weeks later to discuss.
This sounds like the perfect idea at 10:25 on a school night...I'm crossing my fingers it will still sound like a great idea tomorrow.

Tsunami of Change

I sat down to grade this morning and have done exactly what I ask my students not to do: gotten on Facebook at the same time. In an effort to get the distraction out of my system, I'm going to write a blog post about one of the articles I saw in my Facebook newsfeed. And then it's right back to grading!
Linda Murphy, via The Okie Blaze, describes the man recently** confirmed as our state's new Secretary of Education. Dr. Robert Sommers, who has spent the majority of his professional career in Ohio, has come to Oklahoma to presumably "fix" our schools with the implementation of "school performance transparency, teacher evaluation, school choice, digital education options and failing school transformation." The Daily Oklahoman's bio of him can be found here.
After you have looked at his credentials according to the newspaper, read Ms. Murphy's editorial here. She encourages people to consider his background and statements and then contact their state senator about his upcoming conformation.
I do not believe he should be our state's Secretary of Education. You can see how effective my opinions are when you look at our governor and State Superintendent of Education, though. Nevertheless, I have just sent an email to my state senator to share my views about this matter.
What I was struck by, and what is now cutting into my grading time, was the phrase: "tsunami of change." I believe Dr. Sommers pictures thousands of automatrons sitting in orderly rows in a cinderblock factory watching a large screen of a robot lecturing about subject verb agreement. (There may be some hyperbole in that line.)

I certainly hope that there is a tsunami of change.

But I hope that the tsunami comes from teachers, parents, and students who are standing up against high stakes testing and the micromanaging of classroom instruction.

I hope that the tsunami brings a new outlook on teachers as competent professionals with the ability to make important decisions in how students are educated.

I hope that the tsunami washes out politicians who seem to have lost the ability to talk like human beings about what should and can happen in our schools.


**I've found out since publishing this blog that Dr. Sommers was actually confirmed by the state senate this past week. 

After a weekend of visiting with old friends, a trip to the Oklahoma City Museum of Art, and ripping out the bushes in front of my house to make way for new plants, I was feeling a bit behind in homework. I managed to pull it all together in time for class this morning though. One of the first things Dr. A mentioned in his lecture was a test he would be giving today that would count for 50% of our grade. Before anyone began hyperventilating, he grinned and let us know it was his idea of a joke. I have done this to my own students before. It's good to keep a sense of humor as both a teacher and student.
We didn't get as much time to paint today and spent more time discussing our latest class reading, Kathleen Walsh-Piper's Image to Word. My table realized as we talked how important it is to make meaning out of the things we see. The act of writing and the act of viewing art or anything require you to slow down and ponder. Ponder does not get used much in our cultural vocabulary anymore. I am not calling for our entire life to slow down, but I think it is really valuable to carve out time to understand yourself through something like writing or painting.
Which means enough reflection, and time for me to create.

A teacher's summer

Two weeks into my second class (Creativity in Teaching Composition) of the summer, I'm realizing how little time there is to just think during the school year. After my two hour class each day, I come home to eat a relaxed lunch and maybe watch a TED talk or an Anthony Bourdain episode. I almost enjoy doing my homework for my class (partly because half of it involves painting abstract art) since the homework is to practice my own personal writing. There are a couple of texts we use in the course, and there is plenty of guidance so you can't spend much time experiencing writer's block. Natalie Goldberg's Writing Down the Bones is THE book you need if you have ever considered putting pen to paper. All of this self-reflection on my writing and teaching writing got me to thinking about my students (past and present) for at least the zillionth time this summer. For having "time off" from school, this certainly isn't feeling very much like time off...

A teacher friend turned me on to the website and app, Good Reads. It is brilliant for those who love to read and I can't help but think of ways I could use this in the classroom. Some of the reviews out there on the website are so well written and I can definitely see students responding strongly to what others are saying. I am determined to include more student-selected reading this coming school year and I feel like this might be a tool to help me accomplish that. After our second month reading The Count of Monte Cristo last year, I still think it is important to have common knowledge in our culture into books by authors like Alexandre Dumas... BUT it is important that my students find something that catches their imaginations too. 

This is the time of the summer when I start to loose my previous year's feeling of desperation and regain hope for what my students and I can do in the coming year. I am so excited at this moment about getting back to my classroom and reading and writing.