Boo
My blogging colleague, Dennis Fermoyle at From the Trenches, is retiring from blogging. Here's hoping he comes out of retirement like Brett Favre.
I teach because I have to. In all the jobs I've had to pay my way through life, only teaching has (as of today) not left an empty feeling. This is my calling; and sometimes I feel that I chose to teach as much as teaching chose me. *Note: The thoughts expressed here are my own and not intended to represent the school or district I work for.
My blogging colleague, Dennis Fermoyle at From the Trenches, is retiring from blogging. Here's hoping he comes out of retirement like Brett Favre.
This year I will finish my sixth year of teaching which puts me into a state of uncertainty. On the one hand, I am no longer a new teacher, yet many believe that after year six a teacher doesn't make much more progress. It becomes more about refinement as opposed to learning. This begs the question, if after year six I am not going to refine more than I am going to learn, do I need to be evaluated once a year.
1 90 degree day followed by an 80+ degree day added to a tiny, one window facing the sun, on the windless courtyard, of the second floor of an old brick building equals Mr. McNamar being more ready for a three day weekend than I ever have been.
I wish I made more money. Then I 'd be able to afford a top-notch, highly intensive course in Spanish. In a district in which over 50% of our students speak Spanish, we teachers should be given professional development that teaches us academic and conversational Spanish.
One student described the Jackson High School food fight as "epic," which brings to mind such literary masterpieces as The Illiad and The Odyssey. The near consequence was losing the prom, which would have been an epic overreaction. Luckily for the students, prom will go on.
I told a student today that I couldn't hear her. I saw her mouth moving, but my ears weren't picking up what she was saying. She looked confused until I told her that my ears only hear adult voices and can't hear whining.
With just over a month remaining in the school year, a growing sense of depression and frustration is developing behind the closed doors of our classrooms. In my after-school socializing, more of my colleagues are expressing frustrations in various degrees and on various topics.
When I worked for Doubletree Hotels to pay for college, my annual performance review assessed my performance on many criteria, including attendance. The recent National Council on Teacher Quality examination of Hartford Public schools explores numerous facets of the system. One in particular stood out to me. As my colleagues and I work to rewrite our Teacher Evaluation Plan, a difference of opinion has developed regarding attendance. The current contract allots 15 days for illness and 5 days for personal reasons.
In chapter four of Good to Great, Collins explores companies which "...confronted the brutal facts of reality head-on and completely changed its entire system in response..."(67). In confronting these realities, the "entire management team would lay itself open to searing questions and challenges from salespeople who dealt directly with customers"(72). Back in November of this school year I wrote a "Whaddya Wanna Bet?" post giving 3-1 odds that "when Central Offices ask for your input and the input of the community, they don't really care to hear it?"
Between examing the role that Good to Great can have in our schools, I continue to explore what I need to learn about teaching Latino students. In three previous posts, here, and here, I responded to a professional development session in which our staff's effort with Latino students was summarily reproached for its subtly racist undertones. The presentation, though interweaved with some truths, was more for provocation than actual usefulness. I'm tempted to dwell on its need for provocation and not move to the intereweaved truths--I'll refrain for now.
In the first post discussing the connections between Jim Collins' book Good to Great and schools, we examined the principle of getting the right people on board before casting and pursuing a path towards excellence.