Matching Tracksuits

fun in fours

Everyone Sees It

The board of directors of the charter school, where I now teach, has a meeting this evening. The principal of our school asked me to have my students in the leadership class to write brief notes of gratitude to the members of the board of directors.

"What else can we write other than 'thank you for our school?'” they asked.

I suggested they could be specific: “Thanks to them, you can attend a school that has a bit more freedom in its curriculum than the average public school.”

“You mean, they’re the ones who decided we don’t have to do benchmarks?” one student asked.

When I confirmed this, I can see that several of them immediately began adding that to their thank you notes.

Later in the day, when the principal came by to pick up, thank you notes, I mentioned this to her. She said that some Greenville County schools are even worse. Apparently, they had a pretest recently for the benchmark. This is, I’m assuming, so that they can even use his first quarter to measure growth somehow. Here’s how students started in the first quarter; here’s how they ended the first quarter. Previously, we had to wait until the end of the second quarter to get that data. Now Greenville County teachers have more data. But I’ve always maintained it that useless data is just trivia. And there’s no data more useless than the data benchmarks and pretest and CFA and CSA‘s gather.

So why did they do it? Why does Greenville County even require so much testing? it’s a conservative county, which means its constituents should want fiscal conservative principles as well as social conservative principles. I’ve never met a teacher who suggested that this data was in anyway truly useful. I’ve never spoken to a parent who spoke positively of these benchmark tests. And every single kid I’ve ever met (including my own) complains about them. So the tests seem to be one colossal waste of money.

And it would have to be an enormous amount of money because all of these tests are created by third parties and they administered to third-party software. That means these test questions cost money. Subscriptions to Mastery Connect software costs money. And it’s all just a waste of time, which means the salary for teachers to administer the test costs money. None of the true stakeholders see any value in it. Why do we keep doing them?

Simple. There are a whole class of administrators in the district office who have to justify their six figure salaries.

I started doing some research about just how many people at the district office make over $100,000, and I found an article in the local paper about it:

More than 100 administrators earn six-figure salaries in Greenville County Schools, according to the school district.

That's more than $10 million in annual salaries for just the 100 top-paid employees in the state's largest district.
None of the district's 4,000 classroom teachers earns a six-figure salary, according to a document provided by the district.
The 100 top-paid school employees are all district-level and school-level administrators.

Some of the top earners:

  • Burke Royster, superintendent: $256,717.
  • Charles Gary, deputy superintendent: $178,807.
  • William Brown, executive director, educational technology services: $154,000.
  • Lynn Gibbs, executive director, human resources: 150,270.
  • Jeffrey Knotts, executive director, finance: $149,995.
    John Mills, executive director, construction management: $146,577.
  • Jeffrey McCoy, associate superintendent, academics: $142,314.
  • Rodney Webb, legal counsel: $142,314.
  • Traci Hogan, assistant superintendent, special education: $139,503.
  • Elizabeth Farley, executive director, planning and demographics: $139,264.
    Michelle Meekins, assistant superintendent, school leadership-elementary: $139,264.
  • Richard Barber, director, internal auditing: $138,308.
  • Jason McCreary, director, accountability and quality assurance: $138,308.
  • Charlotte McLeod-McDavid, executive director, academic innovation and technology: $134,927.
  • Phillip Davie, assistant superintendent, administrative school support: $132,814.
  • George Skipper, principal: $132,483.
  • John Peake, principal: $132,483.
  • William Rhymer, assistant superintendent for school leadership-high school: $128,937.
  • Ella Beltran, information assurance and archives: $128,441.
  • Andrew Crowley, principal: $126,567.
  • Darryl Imperati, principal: $126,567.
  • Kent Owens, executive director,  student services: $126,181.
  • David Smith, executive director, career technology education: 125,299.
  • Brenda Byrd, assistant superintendent for school leadership-elementary: $124,251.
  • Terisa Brinkman, executive director, strategic community engagement: $124,251.

Of the top 25 earners in the county, four are principals, twenty-one are district administrators, and not surprisingly, none are teachers.

Here's the real kicker, though: that article is from August 28, 2017. It's eight years old. There are even more administrators at the district office. There are deputy superintendents and assistant superintendents and associate superintendents. And they all have to justify their jobs, show that they're doing something to earn their money. What better way than to make spreadsheets and PowerPoint presentations for speeches to this or that group of other administrators. (Or rather, to have their secretaries make these spreadsheets and PowerPoint presentations -- you don't think they do that?)

Reminders

One of my daily rituals is to look through the Time Machine widget at the bottom of this page: it combs through all 7,000+ posts here at MTS and finds the ones published on today's date. Twelve years ago today, we threw a surprise birthday party for Nana, who was turning seventy.

We invited some friends but mainly family to the occasion, and since both of Nana's brothers had passed years before, it was mainly from Papa's side of the family. Three of his four sisters came. We had a cookout and some cake, then we took the Boy on a train ride in the park we were at. The family stood by the fenced-off track and waved at us as we passed. Of the five that were there waving, four have passed away. Of the other guests, three more have passed since then.

Twelve years is not a terribly long time, and yet six of our guests have passed in that time. That's one every two years. That's too many too quickly, but it's to be expected. It just surprises everyone, I suspect, when it starts happening to those around them.

Reader

Returning to the Court

For our students, our school is all of ten days old now. That's how much experience our volleyball team has, as well. Less, in fact. Add to it the fact that, unlike all other middle schools in the area, we don't have any eighth-grade players because we don't have an eighth grade and it's clear the girls are going to be in for a tough year.

You know it's going to be a tough year when the first set finishes 4-25, the the girls celebrate wildly after ever point they get. Big celebrations. Wide-eyed smiles and literal jumps for joy. Every single point.

But today, they achieved the unexpected: a second-set win. It was classic middle-school volleyball. The other team clearly outmatched them, but they fell apart in the second set and made a lot of unforced errors, and our girls took advantage of it. They ended up winning 25-22, and their reaction was as if they'd won the national championship.

Roommates

Our Athens Apartment Foyer

L’s Last Sunday

I never do well with lasts, and one of the most significant lasts for our family has arrived today: L’s last full day at home. She’ll be heading to Gainesville tomorrow in the early afternoon to move into her dorm, meet her roommate, and settle into her new life. The move-in won’t be until Tuesday, but she’s leaving tomorrow.

“She’s leaving home” echoes in Paul McCartney’s voice as I type that. Such a different departure for our Girl tomorrow. No running away. No confused parents reading a note the next morning. No sense of an underlying, unseen, misunderstood neglect. The suggestion in the song is that the unnamed girl won’t be back to see her family for a long time, perhaps the longest of times. Our Girl will be coming back for Thanksgiving for sure, but those three months will be the longest time we’ve been without her. So in a sense, I guess I still relate to the parents in the McCartney song.

It resonates for another reason, though: the parents in the song in some sense or another failed their daughter, and they didn’t even realize that they had. It’s every parent’s nightmare: that you’ve somehow failed your children without realizing you’ve failed them. We’re sending our daughter out into the world, the first steps she’s taking to her freedom, and that fear haunts us both, I think. Parents always reassure each other when they express these fears, “Oh, you did a good job with her. She’s going to be fine.” But everyone says that, and everyone can’t be right. That’s what the song is all about: everyone would have reassured those parents that they did a fine job raising their daughter. I know we made mistakes — some big mistakes. But the effort itself counts for more than we realize, I think.

I understand that only now about my own parents. They made mistakes with me, no question. But I never doubted their motivations were pure. I never doubted the security they were trying to provide for me in ways that I know view as less-than-ideal.

I also understand how difficult it must have been for them when I left shortly after college for Poland. They know it would be months, possibly a couple of years, before they’d see me again. And when I came back to the States, I settled in Boston — a fourteen-hour drive from their town. And when I left Boston, I returned to Poland. From 1996 to 2005, I really only saw them a handful of times. That must have been more difficult for them than I even now can imagine. Certainly more difficult than what we’re facing with L leaving, for we have E still at home with us, and my parents had no other child to comfort them with his proximity.

Tomorrow our daughter is leaving for college. That sounds a lot less harsh than “tomorrow our daughter is leaving for good,” but in truth, I think that’s what’s happening. Certainly, she’ll come home for long visits (she’ll be here for almost a month for Christmas), but I doubt she’ll ever live with us again in the sense that she lives with us now. And has lived with us for eighteen and a half years. She is indeed leaving home in that sense. After college, there will be grad school or a job, and even when she’s done with all of that, she won’t want to come back to this little corner of the world. With a degree in biomedical engineering, she’ll have more opportunities in bigger cities with more universities and research facilities. She’s already talking about California So perhaps we’ll see after all what my parents went through.

In the meantime, we enjoyed the day the best we could. K made racuchy for breakfast and rosół for dinner. It’s been a pattern for the last few days: fixing her favorite foods (crab cakes for dinner Friday; K’s specially marinated chicken for dinner last night).

And then there was the final packing. L went to get a few favorites to take with her, including an entire bulk box of Cheez-Its. “I can’t live without my favorite junk food,” she laughed.

The Boy chipped in, washing L’s car for her as he listened to some podcast or another.

And then an early dinner.

Thus passed L’s final Sunday here.

Saturday Night Ice Cream

I took only one picture yesterday. Unfortunately, I caught L mid-bite. And you cant

When It Became Clear that

the Boy had won in Monopoly.

Twenty-One

Everyone Sees It

The board of directors of the charter school, where I now teach, has a meeting this evening. The principal of our school asked me to have my students in the leadership class to write brief notes of gratitude to the members of the board of directors.

"What else can we write other than 'thank you for our school?'” they asked.

I suggested they could be specific: “Thanks to them, you can attend a school that has a bit more freedom in its curriculum than the average public school.”

“You mean, they’re the ones who decided we don’t have to do benchmarks?” one student asked.

When I confirmed this, I can see that several of them immediately began adding that to their thank you notes.

Later in the day, when the principal came by to pick up, thank you notes, I mentioned this to her. She said that some Greenville County schools are even worse. Apparently, they had a pretest recently for the benchmark. This is, I’m assuming, so that they can even use his first quarter to measure growth somehow. Here’s how students started in the first quarter; here’s how they ended the first quarter. Previously, we had to wait until the end of the second quarter to get that data. Now Greenville County teachers have more data. But I’ve always maintained it that useless data is just trivia. And there’s no data more useless than the data benchmarks and pretest and CFA and CSA‘s gather.

So why did they do it? Why does Greenville County even require so much testing? it’s a conservative county, which means its constituents should want fiscal conservative principles as well as social conservative principles. I’ve never met a teacher who suggested that this data was in anyway truly useful. I’ve never spoken to a parent who spoke positively of these benchmark tests. And every single kid I’ve ever met (including my own) complains about them. So the tests seem to be one colossal waste of money.

And it would have to be an enormous amount of money because all of these tests are created by third parties and they administered to third-party software. That means these test questions cost money. Subscriptions to Mastery Connect software costs money. And it’s all just a waste of time, which means the salary for teachers to administer the test costs money. None of the true stakeholders see any value in it. Why do we keep doing them?

Simple. There are a whole class of administrators in the district office who have to justify their six figure salaries.

I started doing some research about just how many people at the district office make over $100,000, and I found an article in the local paper about it:

More than 100 administrators earn six-figure salaries in Greenville County Schools, according to the school district.

That's more than $10 million in annual salaries for just the 100 top-paid employees in the state's largest district.
None of the district's 4,000 classroom teachers earns a six-figure salary, according to a document provided by the district.
The 100 top-paid school employees are all district-level and school-level administrators.

Some of the top earners:

  • Burke Royster, superintendent: $256,717.
  • Charles Gary, deputy superintendent: $178,807.
  • William Brown, executive director, educational technology services: $154,000.
  • Lynn Gibbs, executive director, human resources: 150,270.
  • Jeffrey Knotts, executive director, finance: $149,995.
    John Mills, executive director, construction management: $146,577.
  • Jeffrey McCoy, associate superintendent, academics: $142,314.
  • Rodney Webb, legal counsel: $142,314.
  • Traci Hogan, assistant superintendent, special education: $139,503.
  • Elizabeth Farley, executive director, planning and demographics: $139,264.
    Michelle Meekins, assistant superintendent, school leadership-elementary: $139,264.
  • Richard Barber, director, internal auditing: $138,308.
  • Jason McCreary, director, accountability and quality assurance: $138,308.
  • Charlotte McLeod-McDavid, executive director, academic innovation and technology: $134,927.
  • Phillip Davie, assistant superintendent, administrative school support: $132,814.
  • George Skipper, principal: $132,483.
  • John Peake, principal: $132,483.
  • William Rhymer, assistant superintendent for school leadership-high school: $128,937.
  • Ella Beltran, information assurance and archives: $128,441.
  • Andrew Crowley, principal: $126,567.
  • Darryl Imperati, principal: $126,567.
  • Kent Owens, executive director,  student services: $126,181.
  • David Smith, executive director, career technology education: 125,299.
  • Brenda Byrd, assistant superintendent for school leadership-elementary: $124,251.
  • Terisa Brinkman, executive director, strategic community engagement: $124,251.

Of the top 25 earners in the county, four are principals, twenty-one are district administrators, and not surprisingly, none are teachers.

Here's the real kicker, though: that article is from August 28, 2017. It's eight years old. There are even more administrators at the district office. There are deputy superintendents and assistant superintendents and associate superintendents. And they all have to justify their jobs, show that they're doing something to earn their money. What better way than to make spreadsheets and PowerPoint presentations for speeches to this or that group of other administrators. (Or rather, to have their secretaries make these spreadsheets and PowerPoint presentations -- you don't think they do that?)

Reminders

One of my daily rituals is to look through the Time Machine widget at the bottom of this page: it combs through all 7,000+ posts here at MTS and finds the ones published on today's date. Twelve years ago today, we threw a surprise birthday party for Nana, who was turning seventy.

We invited some friends but mainly family to the occasion, and since both of Nana's brothers had passed years before, it was mainly from Papa's side of the family. Three of his four sisters came. We had a cookout and some cake, then we took the Boy on a train ride in the park we were at. The family stood by the fenced-off track and waved at us as we passed. Of the five that were there waving, four have passed away. Of the other guests, three more have passed since then.

Twelve years is not a terribly long time, and yet six of our guests have passed in that time. That's one every two years. That's too many too quickly, but it's to be expected. It just surprises everyone, I suspect, when it starts happening to those around them.

Reader

Returning to the Court

For our students, our school is all of ten days old now. That's how much experience our volleyball team has, as well. Less, in fact. Add to it the fact that, unlike all other middle schools in the area, we don't have any eighth-grade players because we don't have an eighth grade and it's clear the girls are going to be in for a tough year.

You know it's going to be a tough year when the first set finishes 4-25, the the girls celebrate wildly after ever point they get. Big celebrations. Wide-eyed smiles and literal jumps for joy. Every single point.

But today, they achieved the unexpected: a second-set win. It was classic middle-school volleyball. The other team clearly outmatched them, but they fell apart in the second set and made a lot of unforced errors, and our girls took advantage of it. They ended up winning 25-22, and their reaction was as if they'd won the national championship.

Roommates

Our Athens Apartment Foyer

L’s Last Sunday

I never do well with lasts, and one of the most significant lasts for our family has arrived today: L’s last full day at home. She’ll be heading to Gainesville tomorrow in the early afternoon to move into her dorm, meet her roommate, and settle into her new life. The move-in won’t be until Tuesday, but she’s leaving tomorrow.

“She’s leaving home” echoes in Paul McCartney’s voice as I type that. Such a different departure for our Girl tomorrow. No running away. No confused parents reading a note the next morning. No sense of an underlying, unseen, misunderstood neglect. The suggestion in the song is that the unnamed girl won’t be back to see her family for a long time, perhaps the longest of times. Our Girl will be coming back for Thanksgiving for sure, but those three months will be the longest time we’ve been without her. So in a sense, I guess I still relate to the parents in the McCartney song.

It resonates for another reason, though: the parents in the song in some sense or another failed their daughter, and they didn’t even realize that they had. It’s every parent’s nightmare: that you’ve somehow failed your children without realizing you’ve failed them. We’re sending our daughter out into the world, the first steps she’s taking to her freedom, and that fear haunts us both, I think. Parents always reassure each other when they express these fears, “Oh, you did a good job with her. She’s going to be fine.” But everyone says that, and everyone can’t be right. That’s what the song is all about: everyone would have reassured those parents that they did a fine job raising their daughter. I know we made mistakes — some big mistakes. But the effort itself counts for more than we realize, I think.

I understand that only now about my own parents. They made mistakes with me, no question. But I never doubted their motivations were pure. I never doubted the security they were trying to provide for me in ways that I know view as less-than-ideal.

I also understand how difficult it must have been for them when I left shortly after college for Poland. They know it would be months, possibly a couple of years, before they’d see me again. And when I came back to the States, I settled in Boston — a fourteen-hour drive from their town. And when I left Boston, I returned to Poland. From 1996 to 2005, I really only saw them a handful of times. That must have been more difficult for them than I even now can imagine. Certainly more difficult than what we’re facing with L leaving, for we have E still at home with us, and my parents had no other child to comfort them with his proximity.

Tomorrow our daughter is leaving for college. That sounds a lot less harsh than “tomorrow our daughter is leaving for good,” but in truth, I think that’s what’s happening. Certainly, she’ll come home for long visits (she’ll be here for almost a month for Christmas), but I doubt she’ll ever live with us again in the sense that she lives with us now. And has lived with us for eighteen and a half years. She is indeed leaving home in that sense. After college, there will be grad school or a job, and even when she’s done with all of that, she won’t want to come back to this little corner of the world. With a degree in biomedical engineering, she’ll have more opportunities in bigger cities with more universities and research facilities. She’s already talking about California So perhaps we’ll see after all what my parents went through.

In the meantime, we enjoyed the day the best we could. K made racuchy for breakfast and rosół for dinner. It’s been a pattern for the last few days: fixing her favorite foods (crab cakes for dinner Friday; K’s specially marinated chicken for dinner last night).

And then there was the final packing. L went to get a few favorites to take with her, including an entire bulk box of Cheez-Its. “I can’t live without my favorite junk food,” she laughed.

The Boy chipped in, washing L’s car for her as he listened to some podcast or another.

And then an early dinner.

Thus passed L’s final Sunday here.

Saturday Night Ice Cream

I took only one picture yesterday. Unfortunately, I caught L mid-bite. And you cant

When It Became Clear that

the Boy had won in Monopoly.

Twenty-One