So much for resolutions. I had wanted to blog again, and totally let it die after two posts. Pathetic of me. I'm going to try again, and I'm posting this as a standby until work starts up again Monday with training. I've been off for the summer (blessedly so) and pretty much doing nothing! Well, not "nothing." Here are my major life updates:
1) The great Capital City Chorus won our regional competition, qualifying us for international competition in Denver 2012. We're currently ranked 7th internationally. (It's 7th, right? Or are we tied for it?)
2) I bought my first new car! If you see a sexy little green Kia Soul, her name is Ivy. Yes, that's the name I decided to go with after a Facebook poll. Always liked that name.
3) I have my first official permanent teaching license. Unfortunately, there's no such thing as a lifetime license anymore. They're only good five years at a time.
If there's anything else, it's not jumping out at me as my ADD is being fueled by the kickoff of the a World Cup final: USA vs. Japan! Go USA!!!! More updates soon. Promise!
Peace.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Education and Shamrock Shakes
Today was my first day of Spring ISTEP+ testing. If you are not from Indiana, or were not educated in Indiana, the ISTEP is a standardized test that all students have to take multiple times over the course of their education. Imagine, if you will, that you are a teacher in public education. Or, if you want to channel your inner Sophia Petrillo, "Picture it! Indianapolis, 2011..."
You spend all year preparing to take this test. Your collective scores on the test determine dollar signs, so you want to do well. If the current governor and the current ruling czar of public education (whose teaching license cannot be found for public viewing, by the way) had their say, the scores coming from your classroom may also determine your salary. If your kids do well, you may get bonuses! If they do poorly, you could be fired. Makes sense doesn't it? I mean, aren't all businesses structured this way? You rock it, you get paid. You suck, you get sacked. Hate to break it to you, but EDUCATION IS NOT A BUSINESS.
My livelihood is being screwed with by the people in power in Indiana who are in the "business" of education. Education cannot be defined in traditional business terms; by test scores, attendance numbers, and facts and figures. I judge the education of MY students by how they enter my classroom at the beginning of the year and then how they leave at the end of the year. Let's review, for those of you who don't know, my school situation:
I teach in one of IPS's alternative programs. Our building was specifically designed to receive kids who had been incarcerated for a long period and are being released to transition them back into a traditional classroom. We also take in students who have been expelled from their regular schools for violent offenses while in the school building. Of the over 360 active gangs in Indianapolis (yes, 360+), our school houses the major representatives. I know more about gangs, affiliations, handshakes, colors, symbols, calls, and each gang's membership than I ever dreamed. Our students are/have been thieves, murderers, rapists, arsonists, drug dealers, drug addicts, prostitutes, mentally and/or emotionally handicapped, abused, homeless, filthy, orphans, runaways, mothers, fathers, and any other crime or hardship you can imagine.
Back to how I judge their education. When a "typical" student walks in my door, I introduce myself, tell them to pick a seat, and I immediately put them to work. For a day or maybe even a week it's smooth sailing. Then, the honeymoon is over. They start testing what they can get away with. Students have refused to work, cussed me out, gotten in my face, charged at me, shoved tables at me, pushed me, grabbed me, and (unintentionally one time) hit me. Now, how much of that have they gotten away with? Zero. You walk in my room, then you're working. Period. I put up with NOTHING. Other students tell the new ones, "You can't do that with Ms. T. She'll throw you out." Yes, I'll throw you out for giving me anything less than what you're capable of. If you can't handle that, I call your guardian. If a conference doesn't work, they can shadow you for a day. If that doesn't work, we'll go on a behavior contract. If that doesn't work, you can find somewhere else to be because I won't accept anything less than 100%. Once all the posturing and defiance is over with, something remarkable happens: they learn. Students who have never earned passing grades in their lives start passing. They ask questions. They ask for extra assignments. They respect me, my time, and my attention because it is a two way street. If you give me your best, you will never receive anything less than my best for you. If their best is something as simple as being in a public place without screaming, cussing, or acting like an idiot for five minutes, I've won a battle. My battles aren't measured in test scores. My battles are measured by making children, who have never had the chance to be children, better people. People with options, opinions that can be valued, and futures to obtain. Put a number on that.
This is a motivational speech by former English teacher turned poet Taylor Mali. My friend Jenny posted this on Facebook not to long ago (THANK YOU!!!!!!!!), and I loved it so much I showed it to my vice principal, who immediately began showing it to everyone. I eventually had to set up a projector and share it in a staff meeting. This just pretty much sums it up perfectly.
I won't go into the politics of everything happening in the world of education right now, because it's a lot and I'm running out of time. But, if you come away from watching the news with one thing, let it be this: the people talking have never spent a day in my shoes. If you want to get into the dirty, ugly, forgotton side of education, come visit me. The suits would never make it five minutes with a gang banger staring into their eyes. I do it every day, and I manage to make them all consider - even if for just a moment - what their lives could be. Put a number on THAT.
In other news, my cat tried to drink my Shamrock Shake last night. Stupid cat.
You spend all year preparing to take this test. Your collective scores on the test determine dollar signs, so you want to do well. If the current governor and the current ruling czar of public education (whose teaching license cannot be found for public viewing, by the way) had their say, the scores coming from your classroom may also determine your salary. If your kids do well, you may get bonuses! If they do poorly, you could be fired. Makes sense doesn't it? I mean, aren't all businesses structured this way? You rock it, you get paid. You suck, you get sacked. Hate to break it to you, but EDUCATION IS NOT A BUSINESS.
My livelihood is being screwed with by the people in power in Indiana who are in the "business" of education. Education cannot be defined in traditional business terms; by test scores, attendance numbers, and facts and figures. I judge the education of MY students by how they enter my classroom at the beginning of the year and then how they leave at the end of the year. Let's review, for those of you who don't know, my school situation:
I teach in one of IPS's alternative programs. Our building was specifically designed to receive kids who had been incarcerated for a long period and are being released to transition them back into a traditional classroom. We also take in students who have been expelled from their regular schools for violent offenses while in the school building. Of the over 360 active gangs in Indianapolis (yes, 360+), our school houses the major representatives. I know more about gangs, affiliations, handshakes, colors, symbols, calls, and each gang's membership than I ever dreamed. Our students are/have been thieves, murderers, rapists, arsonists, drug dealers, drug addicts, prostitutes, mentally and/or emotionally handicapped, abused, homeless, filthy, orphans, runaways, mothers, fathers, and any other crime or hardship you can imagine.
Back to how I judge their education. When a "typical" student walks in my door, I introduce myself, tell them to pick a seat, and I immediately put them to work. For a day or maybe even a week it's smooth sailing. Then, the honeymoon is over. They start testing what they can get away with. Students have refused to work, cussed me out, gotten in my face, charged at me, shoved tables at me, pushed me, grabbed me, and (unintentionally one time) hit me. Now, how much of that have they gotten away with? Zero. You walk in my room, then you're working. Period. I put up with NOTHING. Other students tell the new ones, "You can't do that with Ms. T. She'll throw you out." Yes, I'll throw you out for giving me anything less than what you're capable of. If you can't handle that, I call your guardian. If a conference doesn't work, they can shadow you for a day. If that doesn't work, we'll go on a behavior contract. If that doesn't work, you can find somewhere else to be because I won't accept anything less than 100%. Once all the posturing and defiance is over with, something remarkable happens: they learn. Students who have never earned passing grades in their lives start passing. They ask questions. They ask for extra assignments. They respect me, my time, and my attention because it is a two way street. If you give me your best, you will never receive anything less than my best for you. If their best is something as simple as being in a public place without screaming, cussing, or acting like an idiot for five minutes, I've won a battle. My battles aren't measured in test scores. My battles are measured by making children, who have never had the chance to be children, better people. People with options, opinions that can be valued, and futures to obtain. Put a number on that.
This is a motivational speech by former English teacher turned poet Taylor Mali. My friend Jenny posted this on Facebook not to long ago (THANK YOU!!!!!!!!), and I loved it so much I showed it to my vice principal, who immediately began showing it to everyone. I eventually had to set up a projector and share it in a staff meeting. This just pretty much sums it up perfectly.
I won't go into the politics of everything happening in the world of education right now, because it's a lot and I'm running out of time. But, if you come away from watching the news with one thing, let it be this: the people talking have never spent a day in my shoes. If you want to get into the dirty, ugly, forgotton side of education, come visit me. The suits would never make it five minutes with a gang banger staring into their eyes. I do it every day, and I manage to make them all consider - even if for just a moment - what their lives could be. Put a number on THAT.
In other news, my cat tried to drink my Shamrock Shake last night. Stupid cat.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
The First Useless Tale
Greetings, people! You must be terribly bored, or a personal friend of mine who is humoring me. To the latter of those options, I say "what's up, guys?!" To the former, I apologize. If you're waiting for the fireworks, you might want to wait for Independence Day or try some satisfying adult entertainment. What you'll get here is the rambling account of life from someone who isn't too experienced at it -- yet.
I used to blog quite a bit in college. I fell away from it. I blogged for a few months when I got my first teaching job (which is still my current job and I imagine I'll talk about it a lot), but stress back then was high, so I fell away from that too. I fall a lot. Got the bruises to prove it.
In the professional world, I'm an English teacher. Out in real life and on the internets, I'm just plain old Sarah. I type how I talk, which is rapid-fire, loaded with sentence fragments, and chock-full-o-verbal ADHD. For instance, the current conversation I'm having with my friend Jen is that I've never seen a cashew shell. I'm sure cashews have shells. Don't all nuts have shells? But I've never seen the shell of a cashew. They come to us in those air-tight canisters pre-shelled. Husked? De-shelled? I don't know the correct term, but if you've ever wondered about the shell of a cashew, holla back! <hears a distant "woot" from the nether regions of the net>
But I digress...
Back on the subject of real life, I'm a single white female (yes, I went there), I have a cat named Jack (single AND a cat owner? Save it, haters!), I quote songs, movies, and TV to annoying excess, and I love music. I play a handful of instruments, namely violin, sax, and guitar, and I make the valiant attempt at singing. Singing, I might add, with the greatest women in the world. Enter shameless plug for Capital City Chorus.
But I digress again....
I don't know what I digressed from --excuse me, grammarians-- but I'm sure it's not important. What you'll get from me are the observations of life, silly stories, tales of success and woe from the world of teaching, and all of these will appear with annoying infrequency. You've been warned. Continue if you dare.
I used to blog quite a bit in college. I fell away from it. I blogged for a few months when I got my first teaching job (which is still my current job and I imagine I'll talk about it a lot), but stress back then was high, so I fell away from that too. I fall a lot. Got the bruises to prove it.
In the professional world, I'm an English teacher. Out in real life and on the internets, I'm just plain old Sarah. I type how I talk, which is rapid-fire, loaded with sentence fragments, and chock-full-o-verbal ADHD. For instance, the current conversation I'm having with my friend Jen is that I've never seen a cashew shell. I'm sure cashews have shells. Don't all nuts have shells? But I've never seen the shell of a cashew. They come to us in those air-tight canisters pre-shelled. Husked? De-shelled? I don't know the correct term, but if you've ever wondered about the shell of a cashew, holla back! <hears a distant "woot" from the nether regions of the net>
But I digress...
Back on the subject of real life, I'm a single white female (yes, I went there), I have a cat named Jack (single AND a cat owner? Save it, haters!), I quote songs, movies, and TV to annoying excess, and I love music. I play a handful of instruments, namely violin, sax, and guitar, and I make the valiant attempt at singing. Singing, I might add, with the greatest women in the world. Enter shameless plug for Capital City Chorus.
But I digress again....
I don't know what I digressed from --excuse me, grammarians-- but I'm sure it's not important. What you'll get from me are the observations of life, silly stories, tales of success and woe from the world of teaching, and all of these will appear with annoying infrequency. You've been warned. Continue if you dare.
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