Gladly Would I Teach

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For as long as I can remember, I have had trouble sleeping on Sunday nights. As I lay in bed, I keep mulling over what I have to do as soon as I get to school. Although I always make sure on Friday afternoon that I have everything I need on my desk for Monday morning, that preparation doesn’t seem to make much of a difference. I lay in bed and think about what I will do each day of the week.

Then I start thinking about problems that may change my plans (possible snow fall on Tuesday in Georgia once again!).

Then I start thinking about what will happen if the copy machines don’t work or if we run out of paper.

Then I start worrying about whether or not I have graded everything I was supposed to grade, or returning all of the emails I was supposed to return, or writing all of the recommendations I was supposed to write.

About that time, I’ll roll over in bed, look at the clock, and realize that if I don’t fall asleep quickly that I will not obtain sufficient sleep overnight.

Then, insomnia will seize me!

I only have these fears or concerns that prevent me from sleeping on Sunday nights, and as soon as vacation time rolls around, I sleep soundly on Sunday nights.

I just wish I could turn off the “school brain” on Sunday nights. Does anyone else have this problem?

  Copyright secured by Digiprove © 2010 Edie Parrott

I grew up in a small town and attended a small high school with about 1,000 students. Like all schools, we practiced fire drills each month. We calmly and quietly walked down the halls in single file and didn’t stop until we were at least 50 feet away from the building.

Year after year we practiced those drills so that we would react automatically if we were ever faced with a fire in the building. The best laid plans of mice and men. . . .

One day a small group of girls were smoking in the bathroom, and one of them apparently threw a smoldering cigarette into the trashcan. Sometime later another girl opened the door to the bathroom and smoke billowed out. Since the bathroom was close to the main office, the girl ran up the hall and told the secretary that there was a fire in the building.

The secretary did indeed react automatically. She ran over to the intercom, and announced in her loudest and firmest voice, “There’s a fire in the building!  Run, run, run!  This is not a drill!  There’s a fire in the building. Run, run, run!”

We definitely evacuated the building quickly – very quickly but perhaps not as quietly or as calmly as we had rehearsed.

Someone called the fire department, and they put out the fire in the trashcan.

Order was restored.

No one had ever pulled the fire alarm.

I suspect the secretary may have revisited the proper fire drill procedure on subsequent days.

  Copyright secured by Digiprove © 2010 Edie Parrott

I just read a poignant blog post about a stolen purse (Veteran Kindergarten Story), and it reminded me of an experience I endured almost two decades ago when I served a 5-year stint as an assistant principal, the longest five years of  my life.

I was working in a “challenging” high school, a school where we had great kids but also our share of kids who sold drugs and kids who disrupted classes. One year we had a small group of kids who stole items so swiftly, so slyly, and so shamelessly that they appeared to have popped right off the pages of a Charles Dickens’ novel.

Purses were their specialty!

When girls walked into bathroom stalls and locked the doors, one student would reach under the stall wall and swipe the purse. Or, a student would reach over the stall door and grab the pocketbook off the hook on the back of the door – long before the girl could leave the stall and identify the culprit.

When teachers showed movies or videos with the classroom lights turned off, one of the thieves would quietly grab a pocketbook off the floor, hide it, and then ask for a pass to the bathroom where he removed the money and credit cards from the purse before throwing it in the garbage.

The thefts finally reached teachers when a student stole two purses from two different filing cabinets late one Friday afternoon.

The thefts had become so brazen that we had to pull the faculty together on a Friday afternoon to inform them how serious the thievery had become and to suggest that teachers lock their purses in their car trunks instead of bringing them inside the building. That Friday we had a new Associate Principal, Sue,  in the building since the principal was ill. At the meeting, Sue apologized to the faculty for the thefts and asked for teachers’ help as we tried to identify and punish the students who had wreaked such mayhem. While finding the thefts disturbing, teachers were at least  thankful that we had shared our concerns with them.

After the faculty meeting, administrators returned to Sue’s front hall office to talk. We were exhausted. It had been a really long  and tiring day, and we still had to wait around for another couple of hours before we would leave to supervise Friday night’s football game. As we sat in Sue’s office, we decided to order supper.

Sue opened her drawer to get money.

That’s when she realized that her pocketbook was missing.

While Sue had beenconducting the faculty meeting and advising teachers to keep their purses locked in their car trunks, a student had stolen Sue’s purse from her desk drawer.

At least we had the weekend to recuperate.

  Copyright secured by Digiprove © 2010 Edie Parrott

Today my students divided into groups to begin a huge research project that will take them several weeks to complete. The first thing students had to do was to organize themselves into groups of four and then select a controversial topic that they would like to research.

Many people might assume that 17 and 18 year olds would prefer to work in groups composed of both males and females. While this is indeed true for some students, most students prefer to work in all boy groups or all girl groups. As I watched them work in class, it was so obvious why they segregate themselves by gender.

As we all know, boys and girls work differently, organize differently, and play differently.

I sat at my desk this morning and watched kids get started. I provided a four-page handout of the project requirements and asked students to review it together. Many of the boys grabbed beanbag chairs and sprawled out on the floor. They talked and played around more than the girls, but they got their work done. Usually, one person in the group read the assignment aloud to the group or each boy read the assignment silently with little discussion about the assignment.

Girls, on the other hand, sat at their desks and almost always rearranged their desks so they were facing each other. Usually, one person read the assignment aloud as the other girls followed along on the sheet. Repeatedly during the reading, the girls stopped and discussed various components of the assignment. Most girls also took notes and highlighted important information.

When they finished reading and discussing the assignment, boys sat around and talked about a variety of topics. Most of the girls, however, started organizing the project and determining when they needed to meet to work on the project and who would be responsible for each section of the project.

From a distance, it appeared that the girls worked much harder than the boys. I’ve taught years and years and years, however, and I know that appearances are deceiving. Whereas the boys appear to be goofing off, when we gathered together again as a class, the boys asked many questions about the project and exhibited that they had read and understood the assignment. They just process, discuss, and organize the information in ways they are so different from girls

And female teachers.

Sometimes I think it would be easier to teach only girls (at least girls over the age of 15).

Oh, but what I would miss if I didn’t have the humor, insight, and entertaining work habits of the boys!

  Copyright secured by Digiprove © 2010 Edie Parrott

Like most states, in this bad economy, Georgia is struggling to pay for schools and teachers. Teachers were furloughed for three days in the fall, and we will probably have 3 more furlough days this semester. Next year looks just as bad, and some politicians advocate shortening the school year by as many as ten days.

Yesterday as I watched the local television news, a state legislator disclosed his idea for funding the schools. With obvious rancor, he suggested that teachers who are making $100,000 should be forced to retire so systems could replace them with $40,000 teachers.

Such thinking is indicative of what often hinders schools: shortsighted thinking.

Yes, forcing “expensive” teachers into retirement will save school systems money, but what about learning? Will it help students to force our most experienced teachers into retirement and replace them with brand new teachers? While it is indeed true that some outstanding first-year teachers are exemplary and more effective than many teachers with years and years of experience, those situations are rare. While the research is unclear as to when teaching experience levels off, the research is absolutely clear that teachers are more effective each additional year they teach for at least the first five years for elementary teachers, and high school teachers on average continue to improve for several more years. Schools need experienced teachers.

Now, perhaps the economy has reached such dire straits that we need to take bold moves as the senator suggested, but couldn’t he display a little more respect and ASK teachers who have met retirement criteria to retire instead of sneering about expensive teachers?

Yes, I am, indeed, one of the old expensive teachers. With 32 years of teaching and a doctorate, I am at the top of Georgia teachers’ salary schedule.

Where are these $100,000 Georgia teachers?

I don’t know a $100,000 Georgia teacher!

Trading in old $100,000 teachers for $40,000 teachers isn’t going to work if there are no $100,000 Georgia teachers!

  Copyright secured by Digiprove © 2010 Edie Parrott

One of my students walked into class a few minutes late this morning and handed me a tardy pass from the office. I took the pass, and in a casual glance, something I rarely do, I realized that the pass had been issued a couple of weeks ago instead of this morning. To keep this morning’s tardy from counting against him (excessive tardies lead to a revocation of parking), the student tried to excuse the tardy through the use of an old pass.

I invited the student into the hall where he immediately admitted his mistake. We walked  next door to the administrator’s office and completed a discipline referral since the assistant principal was not in his office. When another teacher asked me if I needed help, I responded, “No, I’m just really disappointed.”

When the student and I returned to class, I noticed that the young man started writing a note, a note that he handed to me on the way out of class. He didn’t say anything that I can remember as he handed it to me, but I took the note and immediately said, “You made a mistake, but I still love you.”

I later read the note, and it is one of the most poignant letters of apology I have ever received. In the letter he told me that he was worried about the punishment he would receive but he was more worried about the fact that he had disappointed me: “My juvenile attempt let you down. My juvenile attempt disappointed a teacher that cares for me so much. I am ashamed of myself and can think of few things that could hurt you more.”

When I had time later in the day, I pulled out stationery and wrote the student a note to let him know how much I appreciated his note and that  I respect him for taking the time to apologize after  he made such a mistake. I gave it to a student aide to take to the student so he would have it before going home.

I don’t know how the administrator will punish the student, but as far as I am concerned the situation is over. The student made a mistake, owned up to it, and now we forget it.

Oh that we would never make mistakes, but how I love a student who makes no excuses, blames no one but himself, doesn’t try to minimize what he did, and faces his punishment. An incident that could have blown up or could have caused me tremendous anxiety ends quickly and amicably.

Case closed.

All kids, even the best of kids, make mistakes. Most of the time they admit the mistake, and we move on.

It was a good day.

As I got into my car to drive home, NPR played the Hallelujah Chorus (Handel’s birthday).

  Copyright secured by Digiprove © 2010 Edie Parrott

Each year around Valentines Day, my school hosts a special dance for all of the special needs high school students throughout the county. Students who volunteer to host the dance are given colorful shirts to wear, and their job is to greet students as they arrive on buses and then escort then to the gym where the dance is held. Scores of buses arrive all morning, and hundreds of excited teenagers, many in wheelchairs, are cheered as they enter the decorated gym.

The goal for our students is to dance and entertain the visitors all morning and make them feel that they are just like the “regular” students who attend proms and homecoming dances during the school year.

We held the dance today, and 6-7 students in each of my classes were absent so they could serve as hosts. Other students had donated much of their weekend to help decorate for the dance. Although I hate to have so many students miss my class, I can’t think of a more worthwhile endeavor. So many students who are often overlooked or who rarely have the opportunity to participate in traditional school events are treated as if they are the most important and most popular students in school as they dance with cheerleaders and football players.

What an outstanding event for students who too often are shunned!

What an outstanding event for privileged and popular students who learn the importance of extending friendship to special needs students! At the end of the day, these students, dressed in their new red “High School Musical” shirts returned to class — exhausted, happy, and with lots of stories to share.

I wonder who benefits the most!

  Copyright secured by Digiprove © 2010 Edie Parrott

For the past couple of days, I have been working on a faculty newsletter tribute to Ed Deavers, an outstanding teacher who died a little over a week ago. As I wrote previously, one of Ed’s former students established a Facebook page for Ed and invited students and former students to share their stories about Ed so they could grieve together.

As I copied many of these messages so I could add them to the tribute, I found one of Ed’s aphorisms particularly poignant. When students were working on plays together and worried about their own performances, Ed told them, “You’re safe; you’re warm; your with friends.” According to another student, Ed sometimes interchanged “family” for “friends.”

If we want students to learn, they must be willing to take chances, and they must learn to work together productively without fighting with each other or establishing factions. A supportive classroom environment is crucial.

What better way to welcome kids into a classroom and teach them to take care  of each other than repeatedly teaching them and saying to them, “You’re safe; you’re warm; you’re with friends.”

I wish every student could sit inside a classroom that emphasized this belief!

  Copyright secured by Digiprove © 2010 Edie Parrott

Despite having had the seasonal flu shot and the H1N1 flu shot and doing my best to stay away from sick students, I contracted a bad cold a couple of weeks ago. Unlike most colds that go away after three or four days, this cold apparently loved living in my body and stayed around to torment me for 10 very long and miserable days.

I took a day off from school when I was really ill and then returned to work the next day. In the span of a couple of hours, I felt just as bad as I had the previous day. But, like so many teachers who keep reporting to school despite their illnesses, I kept on working. Finally, I awoke one morning and determined that there was no way I could drive myself to work and called for a substitute.

Normally it isn’t difficult to create a lesson plan that students can complete without me, but I had three students scheduled for speeches in each class. Since delivering speeches makes some students really nervous, I knew it might cause problems if they had to reschedule their speeches after they had already worried and prepared for the speeches. Unfortunately, however, there was nothing I could do. I had to cancel the speeches.

As I climbed back into bed, my thoughts drifted to that tiny little video camera asleep in my top desk drawer.  Perfect!  I sent an email to my department chair and asked him to obtain the camera and have a student videotape the speeches.

It worked!

Now, instead of grading speeches as students deliver them, this weekend I am staring into my computer screen and viewing and grading speeches. I actually graded one speech today as I went to the park and stared into the very tiny camera screen as I ate lunch.

I love technology!

  Copyright secured by Digiprove © 2010 Edie Parrott

I always end each class period by saying, “See you tomorrow. Have a nice day!” or “Have a nice weekend!”  For reasons I have never understood, however, very few students respond by wishing me a nice day or a nice weekend.

I was a teenager once, and I can still remember all of the things I wanted to accomplish and all of the friends I wanted to see during the brief 5-minute break between classes. When the bell rang to end class, I’m sure I jumped up and scooted out of the room just as fast as my students do today. I doubt I paused long enough to return greetings with my teachers.

Kids have more important things to do than to tell me good-bye at the end of class. After all of these years I should know that. I hate to admit it, but when students leave my classroom at the end of the day, it hurts my feelings when they don’t tell me good-bye.

I need to get over it!

  Copyright secured by Digiprove © 2010 Edie Parrott