matching tracksuits

fun in threes, sometimes fours

education and teaching

Pending Exit

Since I made it official that this will be my last year at Hughes Academy, I have noticed a change in how I view things. “Don’t check out these last few weeks,” Kinga said to me. I replied that this was the last batch of students I’m sending to local high schools, and I want my reputation to remain intact. Several teachers have told me that they can tell who my students are after the first major writing assignment. I don’t want that to change this final year.

Still, my stress levels on some things have declined greatly. Today, for example I saw a kid with his hoodie still on, and I told him to take it off. He said he was going off to PE and would take it off afterward. I knew it he is not supposed to have it at PE, but in the end I just let him go. Karma will catch up to him, I thought sure enough, an hour later, I saw him standing in the hall, being dressed down by the principal for wearing his hoodie.

Another example occurred last week. One student was extremely disrespectful with me, and this disrespect came immediately upon being told that he needed to vacate the hallway and make it to class. I’ve had encounters with a student earlier in the year, and none of them have been pleasant. I can only imagine how much chaos he brings to the classrooms he attends. I thought that perhaps I should write him up. That would be a mild blessing for his teachers because a day without his problematic behavior is like a day of vacation. You can get things done that you couldn’t get done otherwise. Still, in the end, I decided it was just not worth my time. I’d have to call his mother, and I’d have to find that phone number by going to this teacher or that teacher and tracking it down. I wouldn’t have access to it myself. All that being said, I just decided it was not worth my time.

Thursday

Old School

Tech-free day -- which means students couldn't use any technology. And they had to look up a couple of unknown words...

First Draft

For many years, the end of the school year was something of a relief. I had completed another year of instruction; my students were moving on to bigger challenges; and I would be able to rest for a while. The school year was always a challenge, but it was never anything insurmountable.

Then a few years ago, every school year started to feel a little more like the myth of Sisyphus. I was rolling the boulder up the mountain year after year, but at least when I got to the top, even though I knew it would roll back down, I always had some satisfaction that I had indeed pushed it up the mountain to begin with. Over the last few years, however, when I reached the year’s pinnacle, when I have pushed that boulder up the mountain one more time, I stand there, waiting for it to roll back down. Instead of turning my attention to summer break, I just watch the boulder tumble back down the hill as I think, “Well, I’m just going to have to roll it back up again next year.”

Part of that was a function of exhaustion, I’m sure. Yet part of it arose from the nervousness I felt, and I believe all teachers feel, as one year ends, and the next one begins. It’s been the same worry every single year: What else are we going to have to do next year that just feels like jumping through a hoop?

In short, I’m tired of jumping through hoops to provide data for people at the district office who need to produce something that justifies their six figure jobs. Reports and charts require data; we teachers provide that data. Lately, it’s all I feel I do. I’m sure it’s somewhat debatable how accurate that description is, but it is how a lot of teachers feel today not this in our school, not just in our district, not just in our state, but all across the country. All teachers are tired of the increasing administrative requirements, the increasing data analysis requirements (often analyzing data of questionable value to begin with), and the increasing number of silver-bullet computer programs and websites, which don’t solve problems, but usually only create more work. Teachers are tired of those who hold the purse strings dictating how things are going be done when most of those making legislative decisions have never been in a classroom to begin with. Teachers are tired of “solutions” which are nothing of the sort, but rather simply legislation controlling the one thing that we as a society can legislate about: teachers.

Teacher are leaving public education in droves these days, for the aforementioned reasons and likely many other others. I am afraid that I have decided I must join those ranks.

Effective at the end of the 2024-2025 school year, I resign my position at [this school].

I leave [this school] with a certain degree of sadness, to be sure. I have taught here for so long and created such a reputation for myself that it is quite difficult to give all that up. Students coming to my classroom know what to expect. Students who have older siblings whom I taught arrive expectations based on stories their older brother or older sister told them. Parents who have talked to the parents of former students greet me with smiles on Meet the Teacher night and tell me they are eager for their son or daughter to receive the challenge, which, according to my reputation, I am able to provide. Former students come to see me regularly, and it’s always a delight to talk to them. In leaving [this school], I leave all that behind. It is a sacrifice I don’t make lightly.

However, I believe I have accomplished everything I could have accomplished at [this school], and it is time for me to move on. Other challenges await, and I am eager to take them on.

Parent Exchange

Interview

When you go for your first interview in years, it might be a semi-stressful event. After all, you're out of practice.

You haven't done this for so long you might not prepare properly. You might forget the name of the teaching model the school uses, and on the way to the school, you might have to refresh your memory at a traffic light.

You might have forgotten the stress of wondering if you're going to be on time: you left with plenty of time, but who knows what delays await you, especially on Southern roads. It could be road work; it could be a traffic jam; it could be awful roads; it could be someone going ten miles under the speed limit.

You might have to schedule the interview just at the tail end of your day, and in an effort to be a little subtle about things, not come to school dressed for the interview but attempt to make the switch on the way. A service station bathroom? Too long. GPS says I only have eight minutes to spare. Traffic lights for the shirt and tie; remote corner of a grocery store parking lot near the school for the pants.

You might have to go to the restroom when you arrive but decide there's just not the time (even after checking in with the receptionist), and besides, it's not that urgent.

You might have forgotten that you're not strictly (or even nearly) wearing dress shoes because you've gone all in for zero-drop shoes and don't own a pair of formal zero-drop shoes, and you realize you probably should have bought some. In the meantime, you try desperately to remember not to cross your foot on your knee.

You might find yourself talking too much and have to tell yourself to shut up. "It shows your passion," you might justify later. Perhaps your right.

First interview in seventeen years -- went alright. We'll see.

The Change

Today we covered 3.1 -- Tybalt kills Mercutio, Romeo kills Tybalt, and the prince banishes Romeo.

"When you get to the third act of a Shakespeare play," I'd explained to the kids yesterday, "everything changes."

I've always especially enjoyed the lesson we do for 3.1. The kids select various divisions of the scene, read and discuss those divisions, and then prepare a tableaux vivant to summarize it. Kids who get the latter part of the scene quickly call me over to check their understanding.

"Why the devil came you between us? I / was hurt under your arm."

"Wait, Tybalt is dead? How did that happen?"

"You mean Mercutio is gone? What?!"

My answer to all such inquiries is the same: "When you guys present your tableauxs, you'll see."

Time for a Change

I've been working at the same school since 2007. The end of this year will mark the seventeenth full school year I've taught there. I began in a room at the end of the eighth-grade hall; at the end of my first year, I was moved to the top of the hall, put on another team, and given my first English I class to teach. I've been in that room ever since. Sixteen years in the same classroom.

At this point, by my count, there are only four teachers who have taught at that school longer than I. Two are retiring at the end of this year. I would be number three in seniority. I know one of those two teachers is planning on retiring after next year, and so I'd move up to number two.

In a lot of ways, that's an admirable goal. It's a rarity in today's world, though. Changing jobs every few years seems to be the rule and not the exception. Still, I always thought that there was something rewarding about sticking around and mastering a position. And there's something in me that thinks it might be a real kick to reach that point: no one has taught here longer than I.

But what happens when the requirements of supervisors (in this case, people at the district level) make it difficult to continue teaching in a middle school with a clear conscience? What happens when you start to feel complicit in the systematic over-testing of students? What happens when the amount of stress you feel from jumping through all the hoops the district puts in front of middle school teachers begins to overshadow the joy of the job itself? You pull out your resume, which you haven't updated in well over a decade, polish it up, write a cover letter, and start applying for jobs at high schools.

Heading Out for a Walk

The Boy and I headed out for a walk after dinner. We took the dog, we chatted about school, keyboards (as in computer keyboards -- a recent interest of the Boy's), district band tryouts (tomorrow evening), and random topics (as if that list weren't random enough). It was another of those "how many more times do we do this?" moments. The Girl didn't go with us because she had gone to her boyfriend's house to watch a movie with him.

Everyone's role slowly shifts.

Snow Tomorrow

In the South, we don't know what to do with snow. When it falls, everything comes to a halt. There are long lists of closures and delays on every local website -- first and foremost, schools. Our district posted this today ahead of snow that's suppose to start around noon tomorrow:

Greenville County Schools will have an eLearning day Friday, January 10. Schools and office buildings will be closed. All activities, including athletic events and field trips, are canceled on Friday and Saturday. The District’s ICE (Inclement Conditions Evaluation) Team evaluated the forecasts, and the decision was made based on the predictions and timing for snow and/or ice accumulation, which may result in unsafe road conditions, downed power lines, and loss of electrical services.

Because we are an approved eLearning district, this day will not have to be made up and instruction will be provided through Google Classroom. Students will complete eLearning assignments later if they are unable to participate due to power outages, lack of internet service, or other barriers. Once operations resume, school personnel will begin rescheduling events as appropriate. Please check local media, the district website, and the district’s social media for the latest information on school closings or delays.

I have mixed feelings about this: elearning days are seldom very productive because so many students, for whatever reasons, fail to log in and do the work. Teachers almost always give light work during that period because they know so few people will show up. Knowing this, a few more students decide not to show up.

But at least we'll be able to play in the snow. In theory.