Gladly Would I Teach

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

Yesterday the fire alarm blared in the middle of first period.

Let’s see. High school seniors in their final semester of high school, have participated in at least 125 drills during their years in school; therefore, students know what to do.

The fire alarm went off during first period, and my students just sat there.

Instead of jumping up and walking down the hall in a quick but orderly fashion, my students just sat there.

“Get up, folks!  Let’s go,” I stated firmly, and finally they marched out of the room . . . slowly.

We participate in monthly drills so that students know exactly what to do in the event of a fire. It’s quite simple. Get up, walk out of the building quickly and orderly. (We once emphasized silence, but that’s fallen by the wayside).

Why didn’t my kids jump up instinctively and follow what they had learned in the drill?

Was it too cold outside?  Probably – 45 degrees in Georgia is cold, but that wasn’t the reason.

Were they lazy?  Probably – but how many students are so lazy that they will forgo the opportunity to enjoy a classroom interruption?

My students sat there simply because my school experiences at least 1 false fire alarm each week. At least once each week, we follow an adjusted alarm procedure:

• The fire alarm rings.
• Students walk out of classrooms and walk towards the exits.
• Twenty seconds later, the school secretary announces over the intercom, “Ignore the fire alarm. Ignore the alarm and return to class.”

Because students are repeatedly told to ignore the fire alarm, we are indirectly teaching them to ignore all fire alarms. Now, when the alarm sounds, students sit in their desks and do not leave unless teachers emphasize that they must leave immediately.

I remember reading about a tornado that struck an Alabama school during a dance many years ago. No one was injured because students immediately followed the drop-and-cover procedures they had been taught and had practiced for years. They behaved instinctively.

I know that fire rarely strikes schools today, particularly new buildings like my school that are equipped with first-rate fire protection. I still worry about what would happen if we actually had a fire when so many students are accustomed to sitting through fire alarms unless the teacher insists that they leave.

Yesterday, I was stunned at how slowly my students reacted when I told them to leave the classroom. I was even more unnerved when my class walked out into an empty hallway because most classes remained inside their classrooms awaiting an announcement from the office to ignore the fire alarm.

I worry.

  Copyright secured by Digiprove © 2010 Edie Parrott

We are experiencing the coldest weather in 25 years in Georgia. This morning as I sat here drinking tea in front of a fire, I started thinking about an earlier time of very cold weather.

In the early 1980s when I was a young teacher, I rented a house adjacent to an elementary school in the system where I taught. It was a great deal for me because the school district charged very little rent because they wanted a teacher in the house in the hopes that he or she would watch over the school.

One January morning I awoke to the lovely news “Cobb County Schools are closed today.” There was a little snow and ice, but the schools were closed primarily because of the cold. If I remember correctly the temperature was in the single digits. Those of you who live in areas where it gets really cold will probably laugh that we close schools because of single-digit temperature, but school heating systems, particularly in older schools, are just not equipped to handle such weather.

I went back to sleep.

About thirty minutes later, Mrs. Burrell, the secretary at the elementary school called me and told me that a parent had called her at home to tell her that she had spotted a handful of young children waiting at the school. Since the secretary was home and didn’t want to drive in the bad weather, she called to ask me to walk over and check on the kids. I immediately told her I would be happy to do so . . . and then grumbled as I hung up the phone, climbed out of bed, and got dressed in my warm clothes.

I had to walk all around the building, but I finally found five little boys (kindergarten to third grade) standing together behind the school. I can’t remember that much about them except that two of them were not bundled up well for the cold weather, and Billy, the youngest one, had no gloves or mittens and as his nose ran, it actually froze on his face.

I brought all of the kids back to my house and had them call their parents to pick them up. Four of the parents arrived within 30 minutes to pick up their children, but not one of them even thanked me.

Billy and I sat in my kitchen as I tried to get the 5 year old to tell me his phone number. No luck!  Then I asked him to tell me his last name. Still no luck! When Mrs. Burrell called me back, I had to describe Billy in the hopes that she could figure out who he was. Sure enough, she responded with his last name and then said, “Now, we’ve got a problem.”

According to the secretary, Billy’s parents were not very supportive of the school so teachers usually dealt with the grandmother, but she was out of town for the week. Because Mrs. Burrell knew it would be impossible to reach the parents, she decided that she would come pick up Billy, keep him at her house, and then take him home at 11:45, his normal time to return home after half-day kindergarten.

I told her not to worry about Billy because I would keep him at my house and take him home at the proper time. So, Billy and I spent several hours watching cartoons in my den and waiting for the time when I could take him home. He was so cold that I had to remove most of his clothes and bundle him in a blanket while I dried his clothes. I also realized very quickly that women in their twenties without children rarely have food or drinks in the house that appeal to five year olds!

At 11:30, I dressed Billy in his nice warm clothes, put him in my car, and set out to take him home according to the directions the secretary had given me. No one was on the road!

I drove into a seemingly deserted neighborhood of lots of little houses and very few trees. As I pulled into Billy’s driveway, however, I experienced a surreal scene that I hope to never again witness. Two police cars pulled in quickly right behind me, and officers jumped out of their cars, drew their guns, and screamed for me to get out of my car with my arms raised.

The experience would be unnerving for everyone, but it was particularly upsetting to someone whose greatest transgressions prior to this moment involved overdue library books and a speeding ticket for driving 58 in a 55-mph zone in South Carolina!

After telling Billy to stay put, I stepped out of the car and raised my arms high in the air, just as I had seen in cops-and-robbers television shows. The policemen lowered their guns, and an angry woman jumped out of one of the police cars and screamed, “What did you do to my baby?!!” She ran over and pulled Billy out of my car. I discovered that the parents and policemen had been searching for Billy all morning, but I have no idea why they would not have talked to neighbors who lived right beside the school!

After explaining the situation to the police officers and giving them Mrs. Burrell’s name so they could check my story, they told me I could go. They also told me that they were planning to charge the parents with abandonment for leaving a 5 year old child outside a locked school on a morning of single-digit temperature.

A little upset, a little angry, and very cold, I drove home.

So much for being a Good Samaritan!

Would I do it again? Absolutely!  What makes this story interesting is that it is such an anomaly, and it pales in comparison to the hundreds of other times when I have helped students and parents who thanked me profusely.

I just hope the next time I have to help doesn’t come on a snow day when I am nice and warm and planning to sleep late!

  Copyright secured by Digiprove © 2010 Edie Parrott

Watching Southerners when it snows is a wonder to behold!  We see snow so rarely that we just don’t know what to do when it approaches, and when it does finally arrive, our entire lives revolve around what to do about the snow. Before other Southerners attack me, I must reveal that I am a Southerner of the first order, born and raised in Georgia, 7th generation, and proud of it, hence the capitalization of Southerner.

Georgians have known all week that snow was coming, and yesterday school systems throughout northern Georgia started announcing that they would close schools early today. Metropolitan Atlanta systems are open, but most of them are canceling night activities because SNOW IS COMING!  This morning students discussed whether or not the schools will open tomorrow as they also expressed disgust that “all the other schools are closed today!” (One area where American children do NOT need remediation is in the use of hyperbole.)

Local Southern news stations offer updates every 30 minutes to report areas where viewers have spotted flurries. SNOW IS COMING!

Actually, when SNOW IS COMING, Southerners are genetically programmed to perform certain duties.

• We check the local news incessantly because it’s important to know exactly when snow will arrive. Meanwhile, local news stations tag snow broadcasts with catchy names: StormWatch 2010 or SnowWatch, for example.
• We stuff all of the coats we own inside our cars just in case we get trapped while driving. Sometimes we also add water and food, something we learned from documentaries about snowstorms.
• We close schools, businesses, and churches as soon as a spot of white appears on the asphalt.
• We remind each other how to drive in the snow and treat Yankees with deference. If no Yankee is available, we’ll take directions from someone whose mama was a Yankee, and, if all else fails, we’ll listen to someone who once drove in the snow UP NORTH. Everyone cautions us to keep feet off the brakes.
• On our way home from work, school, church, we rush to grocery stores where we buy bread and milk, even those of us who never drink milk! When grocery store bread shelves are bare, we complain that the store was not properly stocked for the storm and then we make fun of all of the Southerners who rush to stores to buy bread and milk, claiming that WE are only in the store because WE really needed bread and milk.
• We drive slowly and cautiously and constantly remind ourselves not to step on the brake if the car starts to skid.
• If the car skids, we immediately slam on the brakes.
• We label roads covered in ice “treacherous.” Roads covered in snow are treacherous. Roads with snow skipping across the asphalt are near treacherous. Clear roads with snow on the edges are considered likely to become treacherous. When night falls, we stay home because we do not want to chance an encounter with black ice which is . . . treacherous.
• We get home and turn on StormWatch 2010 and watch as the school and church closings crawl across the screen. Then we complain when all the other schools close before ours.
• Southern children climb hills, sit on the tops of garbage cans, and try to slide down the hill, a rare event.
• We run outside with a ruler and measure how much snow we have. We then call all of our friends and family to compare snowfall amounts. We double our measurement. If someone else then proclaims to have more snow, we insist that the figure we cited previously was from the front yard and claim the backyard is even deeper.
• Southern children run outside and gather snow from throughout the neighborhood to build 18″ snowmen filled with dirt, grass, rocks, and a little snow.
• We watch more of SnowWatch 2010 so we can see cars that have wrecked by sliding into each other, and we all say, “Bless his little heart. That wouldn’t have happened if he had steered through the slide and kept his foot off the brake!”
• Southern children turn their pajamas inside out and go to bed in the centuries-old-tradition that reversed pajamas cause schools to close.
• We watch television late at night as SnowWatch 2010 broadcasts stories of what goes inside the salt trucks that “keep us safe” and road officials caution us to stay off the roads because they are treacherous.
• We wake up early the next morning and turn on SnowWatch 2010. We learn that the snow is almost gone, watch the school closings crawl across the screen, and complain that school officials don’t care about our safety when our schools remain open and we must travel treacherous roads to reach them, knowing that EVERY OTHER school system in the state is out for snow except our own.
• We get to school and can’t really have normal classes since half the parents kept their children home because conditions are treacherous.
• We go home from school and work, turn on the television, and watch StormAftermath 2010.

Just for the record, I left school two hours early today so I could drive 70 miles to my home in the snow-covered hills of Georgia, the area that SnowWatch 2010 now considers the “bulls-eye” of this Southern snow.  The photo above is outside my home. I know the snow doesn’t look that deep, but you should see the BACKYARD!

Tell me God doesn’t have a sense of humor!

UPDATE:  Cobb County Schools are closed on Friday!

  Copyright secured by Digiprove © 2010 Edie Parrott

via www.digtriad.com

What a nice story!

Despite our best plans, unexpected things happen in schools.  Yesterday was one of those days. Last year in
September Georgians worried about the severe effects of the drought, and we
heard rumors that the governor was considering closing the schools because of
insufficient water – just rumors.

The Georgia drought, however, is over. Over the past few
days, suburban Atlanta received record amounts of rain, in some areas as much
as 15-18 inches. (John Clay provided the top two photos of the flood in Kennesaw.)

When I arrived at school at 6:15 yesterday morning, the sky
was spitting rain with sporadic bursts of lightening.  While I had heard reports that Paulding and
Douglass, two adjacent counties, had closed their schools because of flooding,
I had no idea that the situation in Cobb was also perilous. Since I live 70
miles north of where I teach, I assumed that the Kennesaw neighborhood where I teach had received only about an inch of rain as I had experienced at my house
in Ellijay.

At 8:00 AM when my first period class normally starts filing
in, only one or two students appeared, and the halls were empty. At 8:25, the
official start of the school day, only 5-6 students were present and school officials
advised teachers not to take roll until 8:45 and later extended that time to
the end of the period when most students had trickled into the building. The
final student entered my classroom around 9:45 and informed us that he had
wrecked his car when he hydroplaned and shot off the road. Luckily he was fine.

By second period the rain was falling so quickly that we
were distracted by the flooding in the parking lot and the waterfall cascading
down the steps overlooking the area where the band practices. Second period was
extended because the rain was so heavy that it was impossible for students to
change classes outside, and one of the halls leading into the cafeteria was
flooding. The bathrooms on the English hall on the second floor of the building
had to be closed because so much water had flooded the sewers that the water
was coming back up through the commodes. (I didn’t understand that part and
felt no need to investigate!)

We changed to third period around noon and then received
word that Cobb County was releasing middle schools early in hopes of getting
all students home as quickly as possible. When school ended, we all faced long
commutes as county officials closed over one hundred roads in Cobb County because
of high water or flooding,

Although my day was long and eventful, I remained dry and in
no danger unlike teachers at another school down the road. Clarkdale
Elementary, a school in the southern section of Cobb County, encountered rising
flood waters and had to evacuate students to another school. I cannot fathom
how much stress those teachers must have endured as they waded their small
children through rising flood waters to awaiting busses. Teachers train for
fire drills, tornado drills, and even lock-down drills, but I don’t remember
ever receiving any information about flood drills since our schools are not in
flood plains.

Late yesterday afternoon Cobb County announced that schools
would be closed on Tuesday because of flooding and closed roads.

It is heartbreaking to look at the photos and videos of flooding
in metropolitan Atlanta and read the accounts of people who died in the storms and
those whose homes are now flooded.  It is
also frightening to think of how much worse our problems could have been
yesterday, particularly in Austell where flood waters have now almost totally submerged
Clarkdale Elementary School.

I will say a special
prayer for Clarkdale teachers and their students.