Signgate 2012

The battle over the sign in the staff room continues. It was taken down last week, sometime Monday or Tuesday. By who? We don't know. Not by me. And not by the person who made it. Which I think is just horrible. If I disagreed with a sign, but did not make it, I would not take it down. It either was taken down by Mr. Principal or by a teacher who kisses Mr. Principal's you-know-what. It occured to me that that is censorship. Someone didn't like a sign that someone else made and so they took it down. Censorship, plain and simple. We have a little something called Freedom of Speech in the Constitution. We are guarranteed this right. I found a quote and made a sign. The quote says, "You have not converted me just because you have silenced me." I sent it to the home email of the gal who put up the first sign, and asked her to print off this one and put it up where the other sign was. Game on. Bring it. I've got other freedom of speech quotes ready to go.

A Sign of the Times

Back in October, I posted about this substitute teacher I had who didn't like the way I had written something in my plans about how to deal with my autistic boy, and had gone to Mr. Principal about it. She had never been in the building before, and didn't even know me. But Mr. Principal took her side and called me in to his office to deal with it. I was pissed, and got our union involved. Not only did he call me into his office, but he followed it up with a very formal email directing me to add information to my substitute folder after he had approved it first, and he wanted it done by a specific day that week. It was awful. So the union president got involved and paid him a visit. One of the things she did was meet with me first, and she went through the student's Individual Education Plan, highlighting anything that seemed to support the very brief statement I had made in my sub plans. Then, armed with that, she went to meet with Mr. Principal. Later, as we talked about how it went, she brought up that Mr. Principal, in his own defense, mentioned that someone in the staff room had heard me say something about a student. This is so ridiculous, I don't even know where to begin. It bothered my on so many levels. One, Mr. Principal lies to "make his point." We know he lies. Two, I never really go into the staff room. My meager 30 minute planning is at the end of the day, so at my meager 30 minute lunch break, I'm usually getting things ready for the afternoon. Finally, really? I said something about a student? Highly unlikely, and most teachers in the staff lounge complain about a student for one reason or other. When you have 25+ students to deal with daily, generally there is something to complain about. It really bugged me that someone, if he or she did hear me complain about some kid, went and tattled. And if it was a teacher, that meant they were a member of our union, and I go out of my way to try to support every teacher that comes to me with a problem. So I was hugely upset about this. I told my closest friends at school about it, crying as I did so. My teammate got very angry, as we all know about the tattling, and have been tattled on by various people. So she immediately went to her room and made this sign: What happens in the staff room, stays in the staff room. C'mon people, we have to have some place to vent! And she put it up on the door that led to the outside. Well, fast forward to last Wednesday. Wednesday was a late-start day for us. We have 9 late start days throughout the year. Mr. Principal gets a certain number of those days, and we get a certain number. And as always, he gets more than we do. Anyway, Wednesday was late start day, and was principal controlled. Ick. But we gathered in the library anyway. Now, Mr. Principal is not an idiot, I don't think, and by now if he thinks his staff feels hunky-dory, there's no hope for him. I think he does know how unhappy we are. He's got to. First was this report from the state where it made it obvious that the staff feels there is a communication problem, and that only 40% or less of the staff feel comfortable taking problems or concerns to him. Follow that by the fact that a union climate survey was sent out, and he knows what questions were asked either because he was sent one or because one of his cronies showed it to him. So he really tried to address communication woes and a few things that the staff is unhappy with, mostly that many certified support teachers do not see kids on Fridays. This makes classroom teachers mad. They make our salary, but only see small groups of kids Mon- Thurs?? Anyway...That was the first hour. The second hour was this red cars video that he had told me about when he was trying to lecture me about being negative. So then we have to focus on positive thinking and he had the audacity to bring up the union survey (but I didn't hear the comment, as I had tuned him out, as usual...). Then the next thing I know he put up the next power point slide, and it is of that sign from the staff room. He said someone had brought this to his attention. We sat in shocked silence. Not shocked because of what the sign said; we all liked the sign. More shocked that he took the sign down, scanned it, put it in his power point presentation, and then put the sign back into the staff room. Then he wanted us to discuss the sign. Really? One of the teachers next to me (I don't know if she knew who made the sign) said, "Shouldn't he be asking why someone felt so strongly about something that they made the sign?" Instead, we knew he wanted us to get angry about the sign. Well, let me tell you, the sign is still there. Incredible. He treats us like children.

It's a Conspiracy!

You read earlier about Mr. Principal believing a substitute teacher's accusation over what he knew about me as a teacher. That just aggravated me, and I felt my opinion of him plunge to new low-levels. So low, in fact, that I don't see it ever rising back up. Between my other building union rep and myself, we have just been inundated with unhappy staff coming to us this year to complain about our principal and the low morale at our school. A few weeks ago I just thought, "This is enough." I sent an email to Ms. Union President. I told her that I felt things were so bad at my school for the majority of the teachers, and I wanted our union to step in. I told her that I wanted her to handle it, too, as I knew if she didn't, it would come back to me that it was all my fault, that I was the one creating a problem when there wasn't one. Mr. Principal would be telling me that teachers were happy until I started to make an issue out of everything. He doesn't see the unhappiness around him. So our union president began to take some action. She sent me a survey that she had done in another elementary building so I could look at the questions and see if they seemed appropriate for our school. I also gave a copy to my other building rep, and to our music teacher who has been a building rep in the past. We all thought it looked pretty good, made a few minor suggestions, and then the survey was sent out to our union members to their home emails. The day Ms. Union President sent out the survey, she also sent an email to Mr. Principal telling him this step had been taken. She also contacted someone at the district level to tell them that a union climate survey had been sent out to the union members at my school. That very afternoon I had a "Union Communications" meeting with Mr. Principal, who by that time, knew the survey had gone out. The meeting started innocently enough with me bringing up some minor issue to be dealt with. Then the tone changed. Mr. Principal began to tell me that there were staff members who didn't like to send out staff emails because Ms. Union Rep (me) would be pissed...He made it seem as if many staff members complained about me, which I do know to be false. Later as I pondered this statement, I realized that if someone sent out an email that they thought would piss me off, then most likely the email was asking or telling teachers to do something that was against contract. That's the only time I get pissed off...But I digress. I sat in sort of stunned-silence, feeling as if he was chastising me. Then he launches into some video he was planning on showing the staff about seeing red cars because you just bought a new red car...I began to zone, as I always do when he begins to go on and on. But I did finally leave, with the distinct impression that I had been scolded and I knew it was due to the suvey. I went home angry. I thought, "I do not need this crap anymore." I knew right then that the only way I could survive this year without totally loosing it was to stop being the building rep, a job I like doing. But I couldn't just stop being rep if I didn't feel like the person stepping into my place had the balls to stand up to Mr. Principal. There was only one person who could do that: Ms. Music Teacher. She hates Mr. Principal even more than I do, and out of the whole staff, she is the one who would send me complaints the most. She know that contract pretty well herself. So, my plan began to fall into place. I would step down only if Ms. Music Teacher would take my place. I began by sending her a message on Facebook to see if she would take my spot. Her first response was anger that I felt pushed out of the rep position, but I assured her I needed a break but only if she would take my spot. Her main concerns were that she didn't want to have to go to the twice-a-month union meetings. I suggested she speak with the other rep from our building, who never attended those meetings, to see if the two of them could work that out. She did, and the two of them worked out a schedule of how they'd share the duties. So Ms. Music Teacher agreed to take my place. That was step one: lining up an outspoken person to take my place. And boy, Ms. Music Teacher is outspoken! She has no tact! If people (read: Mr Principal) thought I was bad, wait...I was pleased. The second step was to talk to Ms. Union President about my decision. This was a hard one, as I've been our building rep for 6 years and have been active in our union. But we decided that actually this would work out well; we'd get a new person involved in the union, and I now had the time and energy to join a couple of committees that I otherwise would not have joined. I think our union president is too soft, and that makes me unhappy, but I don't want to totally remove myself from being in the know. The third step was how to announce this to my building union members. It had to be done in such a way that it didn't look planned when Ms. Music Teacher would step up. See, many of the union members in my building are in Mr. Principal's corner; a small number, yes, but I definitely did not want one of them to be interested in taking my position. There'd have to be a vote if that happened. But every two years, no one steps up to take my place, so I've always just continued to be rep. I was pretty certain no would be interested. That particular day happened to be an optional day where Mr. Principal got 4 long hours of our time in the morning, and then we got three hours to ourself in the afternoon. So at the start of the morning, I sent out an email to the union members at our building. I said in the email that the opportunity had come up for me to get involved in our union at the district level, and I was very interested in doing it, but only if someone was interested in taking my spot. I said the building was my priority. I also said it was a lot of work. I said that if no one was interested, I'd just continue being building rep. If one person was interested, there wouldn't have to be an election. If more than one person was interested, then there would have to be an election. Then I sent the email, and waited for Ms. Music Teacher to respond. She was at a music training all morning (lucky her...she didn't have listen to Mr. Principal), but at noon she came into my room. So this was the final, and best, step: Her reply. She logged on to a computer in my room, and together we crafted her reply. It went like this: Absolutely no one can fill Ms. Building Rep's shoes, but I am willing to step up to fill this position. I will do my best to take care of everyone to the high level that you have come to expect. Then she pushed send, and I tell you, at that moment, a huge weight was removed from my shoulders. The timeing was perfect. The survey had been sent out to everyone, and now I just get to step back and watch the fallout. I will be eager to watch Mr. Principal as her realizes that Ms. Music Teacher has taken my place, and he'll realize that I wasn't the cause of all his ills. That the ills will continue, because he has created a toxic environment where staff are unhappy, no matter who is the building rep. It felt lovely.

A Gift of the Heart

Today while I read was readng aloud to my kids, Eric was busy folding lined notebook paper again and again, and then cutting away at it. I wondered, as I read, what he was doing. After I finished reading and put my book aside, he came up to me. He handed me three "snowflakes." They looked pretty primary. The snowflakes were also very symmetrical, you know? The paper was still a rectangle size and shape-nothing was done creatively to give it a diamond-shape snowflake appearance. The opening he cut made the basic circular or triangular shape. Nothing fancy. "I made these for you," Eric said, and handed them to me. I took them carefull and exclaimed over each one. "I really like this one," he said to me, "because these look like hearts." "That's my favorite, too," I said, and gave him a hug.

Who Has Your Back?

Last week was hell. I'm not even sure I have the energy to try to make it funny. It wasn't. I have cried lots this past week. I was out for the first time last Friday, and left plans for a sub, as always. It's always a bit nerve-wracking being out for the first time; you wonder how your students will act. Generally my group of kids has really settled down and has shown me that they can work pretty well. I wasn't really concerned that the sub would have a bad day. I left some good activities for the sub to do with my kids that were also activities that I didn't really have to correct later, except for the math test. So I felt fairly confident that things would go well. I was bummed that I wasn't able to get my favorite sub, though. I was also concerned about John, who is my Autistic boy. He is a nice boy, but he talks very loudly constantly, and he won't do the work that eveyone else does, even if I stand at his side. And on Fridays he isn't pulled out for anything, so he'd be in the class all day long. I didn't want the sub to feel that she needed to stay at his side, trying to get him to work, when the rest of the class might get off task if she wasn't careful. I also didn't know if John would create a scene if a sub, someone John didn't know, was to push him too hard to do the work. You never know who you are going to get for a sub or what their experience is...It's a crap shoot. So I left a very brief description about John in my plans, stating that he is Autistic but won't participate much. I went on to explain that he will read quitetly and can look at magazines. I also asked her to not let him play with his erasers or to make trains with his markers (two of his favorite activities). I then went on to leave plans for the rest of the day. On Monday I get into my room, and looked at the plans and notes that were there from the sub. Basically she had left anecdotal notes on my plans, which is fine. For every activity, she wrote down what John did. I thought that was interestingly odd, but fine. I got the impression that she really felt it necessary to let me know what he did. Great. I didn't think much more of it. Then later Mr. Principal sends me an email, asking me if I could stop by to discuss a concern that had been shared with him. Mr. Principal loves to do this; he never gives any indication what it is about or who had the concern. But during my planning at the end of the day, I stopped by. Unfortunately, he had someone in his office already, so after waiting about five minutes, I left. It was my planning time. After school we had an optional Professional Development one-hour session. We get paid if we go, so I went. Towards the end, Mr. Principal asked if I could come into his office to discuss "the concern." I said sure, and went into his office. I immediately asked, "So, who made a complaint?" My students are happy, this I know, and I was really not sure what this would be about. Turns out the Substitute Teacher had shared with him my brief statement in my plans regarding John. She apparently was a retired special ed teacher, and mother of a special needs kid. She felt my brief statement implied that I had already given up on John, and it had only been a month of school. I was floored. I was floored at the thought of this brazen sub who didn't even know a damn thing about me bringing this to my principal. And I was further floored that Mr. Principal, instead of showing that he supported me, called me in for a talking to. Like a naughty child. I even questioned his motives, basically asking him if he really believed that I had given up on a kid. He assured me that no, he most definitley didn't think that, and why would I even think so (Ummmm...Maybe because you called me into here?). Anyway, he just suggested I write a statement about John giving it a more positive, proactive spin (I am not at all suggesting my statement was a good one...), and also make sure to point out other potential problem kids. OK, I can do that. I left still miffed, but it wasn't too bad. Until the next day. About 8:30 that morning I get an email from Mr. Principal, following up on our "conversation." He said that he expected me to get right on to creating that statement about different students in my room for a sub, especially putting a positive spin on John. He wrote very formally and it sounded as if he copied and pasted from some education tome. He said he wanted it by Thursday for his "review." Geesh. I replied that I'd get right on it, and as I was sure he didn't intend me to feel singled out, I'd look forward to him making the same request to the whole staff. He has not. So I forwarded the email to our union president, expressing my incredible displeasure at this sub and at Mr. Principal. She got back to me agreeing it was bad, and should not have happened. She was mad also at the sub; substitute teachers are part of our bargaining group, and the contract protects them as well. Also, she felt Mr. Principal should have taken my side and not the side of someone he didn't know in the least. She came out to my class on Friday and we talked. She also went over John's Individual Education Program, looking for areas that my brief note seemed to support. She found them. She met with Mr. Principal after meeting with me. So far, I have no idea what transpired. I don't like Mr. Principal.

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words

I have a student who's name is Charlie R. Charlie R. is a low-performing student. I noticed right away that he wasn't doing his nightly homework, so I sent an email to Charlie R.'s parents. No response. And Charlie R. still wouldn't do much work let alone homework. I emailed his last year teacher: Did Charlie R. have a problem doing his homework? What are the parents like? The response was that Charlie R. never did work, and that the parents never returned phone calls or emails, nor did they attend conferences. So, Charlie R. has parents who don't give a fig about school, then so why should Charlie? Obviously, Charlie is set up to fail from the start. But Charlie loves to draw. He is not especially talented. But he loves color, and whatever he draws, he works on for days adding to the picture until the whole space is colored. I think to myself that this is how I'm going to connect with him. Charlie R. goes to speech, thereby putting him into the Special Ed category, and if I can help him to show improvement, that will not only be good for him, but good for our school, which isn't doing well in the special ed category according to the state. The first clue I had that Charlie R. was going to buy into whatever I wanted him to do was during a lesson that I don't even remember the topic. It could have been math. It could have been writing. I don't remember. But I asked if there were any more questions, and Charlie R.s hand went up. I called on him. "You're really funny!" he said. I told him that good, maybe then he'd listen and learn something, and moved on. The next day I did a lesson with the kids about character in stories. We discussed how good authors use great description to give a visual of the characters. I used as an example the book Matilda by Roald Dahl. He is the master of character description. I put up the description of Mr. Wormwood, Matilda's father. We read it together, then I let the kids draw whatever they imagined Mr. Wormwood to be. Then they shared. The kids loved looking at eachother's drawings and laughing. We did the same with Mrs. Wormwood (just as funny) and with The Trunchbull. Later that day, Charlie R. comes up to me and hands me a picture of some man. I said, "Oh, look! It looks like Mr. Wormwood without the ratty mustache!" "No," said Charlie, "it's you!" I looked closer, and sure enough, those were my purple rimmed glasses. And that was indeed my denim jacket with a pocket. He had all the detail. Now I was glad there was no mustache! I thanked him profusely and stapled it up on the wall. I have never had a boy draw a picture of me before. Girls do. Boys never. Yesterday he came over to me and gazed at his picture of me he had drawn. Then he asked where this other picture was that he had drawn me. Luckily, it was laying right there. I told him that I was running out of space, and needed to figure out where to put all the pictures I was getting. "I guess all the kids must love me," I said. "Well, I know I do!" he exclaimed. Sweet, huh? I think I will be able to get somewhere with this kid this year.

Honesty, Is Such a Lonely Word

This is my third year with Mr. Principal. It is also his third year of being a principal, so he came to us as a "newbie," so to speak. We actually have quite a bit in common. He is my age and we graduated from high school the same year. Both of us saw Heart for our first concert. We both have about the same amount of education experience. I could get along fine with him if he wasn't such a bull-headed, attention-deficit-disorder, top-down administrator. When he first came to our school, he wanted to meet with me weekly as I'm the union building rep. He felt it would be a good way for me to keep him up to speed on staff issues and concerns. These meetings, as most any conversation with him (I forgot to add "egoist" to the list above)go, quickly became just me listening to how great he was for a half hour of my time. I didn't see any effectiveness in them. So last year when he talked about again meeting regularly, I sort-of didn't pursue it. And I got away with it. This year, he wanted to meet again, but twice a month and he wanted our other building rep included (OK-I do have a control problem, and I tend to be the "main" building rep. You and me but mostly me, you know...). So Ms. Other Rep and I looked at the weekly calendar, taking into consideration our twice monthly union meeting, and taking into consideration Mr. Principal's meetings, and finally settled on a day of the week that would work. We decided to let Mr. Principal choose the actual dates. He did, and we got rolling. On advice from another building rep, I put together a short agenda of things I wanted to discuss. Since I had had four issues to deal with before school even began, there were some things I wanted discussed right away. I sent my agenda to Mr. Principal and to Ms. Other Building Rep to add to if they chose. Mr. Principal did choose, and did add, but I said I wanted to talk about my issues first, since that's why we were meeting regularly. I got my way. So last Wednesday was our first "Union Communications" meeting. We got together after school. The first thing Mr. Principal began to do was to tell me I had to stop emailing our union president about issues without first coming to him. Mr. Principal said he couldn't understand why people didn't just come to him with their concerns. He said he thought that last year by the end of the year people were finally feeling comfortable enough to do that. Well, I didn't feel the need to explain nor apologize for any of my emails, nor did I share (and maybe I should have) that I know if I do not have the information from the union side about a particular situation, that Mr. Principal won't listen to me. I know this. But, I told him I also didn't really appreciate it when he sends my emails/questions/concerns out to the whole staff, sometimes to the district. Then I focused on the comment he made about wanting staff to be candid. "If you want me to be honest and candid, then I want you to know that I think staff morale is as low as I've ever seen it at this school," I said. He couldn't understand why that would be. So I began to list everthing that's been dumped on us this year, and the first month isn't even over: We're a state-designated "low-performing school," so this year and for three years we'll have people coming to watch us teach and tell us what we are not doing right. We now have a "Student Success Data Binder" where we will have to be keeping meticulous data on each kid. We have a sucky dismissal process where we have to take attendance in our bus line, thereby making dismissal last about 20 minutes beyond our required contact minutes (but I wasn't able to find this to be against contract, and I tried...). He began to justify each thing I had listed. He started with the state thing, telling me how that was all beyond his control. "I understand that one," I replied. "But what about dismissal? This has added a lot of time to the teacher's day, and no one is happy with it. This is your deal, so you have the control to change it." He did agree finally, and we began to brainstorm some ways to improve it. Now, we will form a small committe of teachers, because we know best, to make improvements to the dismissal procedure and make it less of a burden on teachers. I moved on to my second major concern. "We have gotten three different emails from three different sources, and the effect of the emails was to make staff feel scolded or tattled on," I said. I showed him the three emails. One came from him. Another came from Ms. Office Assistant. And the third email, which was the tattling email, came from a gal (a parent) who was hired last year part-time in a role that really puts her working with families and community (but her boundaries always seem to be blurred, and she seems to have her fingers in everything. Most staff do not like the fact that she is working at our school). Anyway, he took the emails, and seemed open to my side of the argument as to why the tone was not good for teacher morale. I felt like I was heard. Finally, we talked about the morning duty schedule, which our district is the only one in the area that makes teachers do duty rather than office people and paras. This had been an issue last year in the fall, so I took concerns to Mr. Principal, and he and I made a schedule that people could live with. One of the things teachers said quite loudly is that they wanted to have duty the same morning each week with their whole team. But this year when Mr. Principal put out the schedule, he didn't keep teams together. So everyone was mad. After much complaining before school even started, he dumped the schedule into my lap, telling staff to tell me what they wanted. Then I got all these requests in my email box, and I was on overload with just starting the year. I tabled it. I told Mr. Principal I couldn't even think about it until I got my year off to a good start. He said fine. However, Ms. Other Building Rep put together a new schedule, and it looked good. So at the end of our meeting last Wednesday, we tweaked what she had and then put it out to the teachers. Finally at 5 pm we were done. Our meeting had lasted over an hour. Normally I won't stay that long, but this time it was fine. We ended the meeting on a positive note. Then on Thursday (was it just one day later?) we got an email from Ms. Parent-Who-is-Now-An-Employee. The email was about our monthly committee meetings, that are one of our eight monthly meetings Mr. Principal is allowed to have. The email was to "clarify" this meeting, and how/when/where we could have this meeting, and that we were to use One Note for meeting notes. Basically, she was telling us our job. She is not our boss. She is not our principal. She is not even the assistant principal. It bugged me that she is telling us what to do in this way. And, how could Mr. Principal let her act as our boss, "clarifying" his expectations in that way? I forwarded that email to Mr. Principal. I told him that believe it or not, teachers whould have prefered to have received that information from him, and not Ms. Community Gal. I explained that coming from her it seemed that she was directing us, and that since it concerned his meetings, and that she wasn't our boss, that information should have come from him. I don't know if my email maybe embarrassed him, pointed out something he should have considered, or what. But his response back was what was my problem with Ms. Parent-Now-Employee, anyway? Because I was complaining about her emails, and earlier in the week I brought her up to him. So what was my problem? I replied that no, I did not have a personal vendetta with Ms. Parent-Now-Employee. I said I was just being honest, as I thought that that was what he wanted us to do. I said I had gotten the message that I was to be candid. Apparently, he only wants me to be candid when it doesn't make him look bad. And that's going to be tough.

A Meeting By Any Other Name is Still a Meeting Pt. II

So this year begins with Mr. Principal already having his two meetings per week in place on the calendar. He has moved our staff meeting from the morning to after school, irritating many teachers as it extends our day now to 4:30. We are supposed to be able to come late at 9:00, since we only get paid for 7.5 hours. But no elementary teacher can get ready for the day in a half hour since our kids begin at 9:30. So Tuesday has become a very long day. Anyway, last year Mr. Principal liked to have these weekly meetings he called "Pack Leadership." Since he wasn't paying us to attend, I encouraged teachers not to go. He was already at his maximum number of meetings. But teachers in his inner circle went, or teachers who were worried about their job went. I didn't go. And if he ever said to me specifically that he needed me to attend, I made sure I got paid for it. Anyway, I think the reality of the meeting is that it was poorly attended. Therefore, this year he has decided to make this a monthly meeting. Still no pay. No. Instead, he sent an email out to specific people (I was not sent the email) telling them he needed them to attend this monthly meeting that would be after school, and that they were to adjust the start time of their day so that their day was only the 7.5 hours we got paid for. He said that if he ever had to go beyond the 7.5 hours of their day he'd pay. Since I didn't get this email, I didn't know about it until a staff member came to me and asked what if no one on their team could attend the Pack Leadership meeting? I told her that no one had to feel like they HAD to attend another meeting of his. I told her that he was already at his meeting limit. At that moment I was heading out to a teacher union meeting, and I told my staff member that I'd ask about it. And so ask I did. The answers were exactly what I wanted. No, he can't request teachers to attend as he is already at his maximum number (this I knew to be the case). No, he can't even request specific teachers to be there, as it places teachers in an uncomfortable position of saying no to their boss (this didn't occur to me as I am never uncomfortable about saying no to this boss). No, he can't ask indivual teachers to "adjust" their start times of the day just to attend this meeting, since the meeting isn't part of the contracted eight per month (I didn't know this). Ms. Union President said that it was too bad I didn't have this whole request of his in writing. Oh, but I do, I said. He sent it out in an email. I shall send it to you. When I got home, I contacted the two teachers from the one team that couldn't send a rep to the meeting. Could you please send me that email from Mr. Principal about Pack Leadership? After I got the email, I forwarded it to Ms. Union President, and I asked her to cc me with any emails she sent Mr. Principal. The next morning I got to school and stopped by Mr. Principal's office. Knock, knock...Can I talk with you a minute, I asked. I then told him what had happened the day before, that a teacher had come to me asking me about the Pack Leadership meeting, and that I had asked further questions of Ms. Union President. I relayed the information she gave me the evening before, and said that she also would be contacting him. You can't request this meeting of teacher, Mr. Principal, because you are already at your maximum number of meetings. This would make the ninth meeting of the month. The contract says you can't go over eight. You can't expect any teachers to be there. Now, you could give Principal Effective Ed hours for the meetings (my district's stupid way of ensuring we do our work for extra money), but even then, it is a teacher's choice to go or not. Teachers don't have to do anything you offer for Principal Effective Ed, as you know. But you can't expect a teacher to go, and you can't ask them to adjust there start time, either. And frankly, no teacher wants to give up their time in the morning to willingly sit in a meeting in the afternoon. He knew I was right. So he sends this email out to the whole staff. It started off something like this: Mrs. Building Union Rep and I had a great discussion this morning, and she suggested that you all would like to be able to get Principal Effective Ed for the Pack Leadership meetings instead of adjusting your day....The email ended with him instructing the teachers to reply to the email if you planned on being your team's rep to the meeting. I laughed at his wording, since he never admitted that he couldn't do this meeting any other way. Then I replied all, reminding teachers that since it was being offered for Principal Effective Ed, they didn't have to go at all, or they didn't have to commit to every meeting. Then I sent an email out to just teachers, clarifying Mr. Principal's email. Gotta watch that guy.

A Meeting by Any Other Name is Still a Meeting

I woke too early today, so I might as well write another blog entry. I have a lot to write lately. And school has only been in session 2.5 weeks...Anyway, in my district, principals can have a maximum of eight meetings per month. Even in a month with five weeks; if a principal has a meeting twice a week, than during a five week month teachers get one week free. I love those months. A principal also cannot have meetings during conferences, nor can s/he have them the week prior to conferences. I love those weeks as well. And not all principals have eight meetings a week, apparently. I'd like to work at one of those schools. Because our principal has eight meetings a month and is always trying to figure out how to get more. So I have to watch him like a hawk. I'm getting quite good at it. Last year, he scheduled our staff meeting every Tuesday morning, and then another meeting every Thursday morning. He had a name for our Thursdays meetings, but in reality it was just another staff meeting. We basically had two staff meetings a week. He thinks everything he has to say to us is so vital we need to hear it in person and not via email. The year before, and all years prior since I've been at my school, we had a staff meeting once a week and a team meeting once a week. But last year we weren't give the second weekly meeting to meet as a team. At the beginning of last year we were told we'd just have to meet with our team on our own time. But get that meeting time on the calendar so we know when you are meeting with you team, we were told, so that anyone can come by to join your team. But that is a 3rd meeting a week, I said. You can't do that. You are already at your maximum number of required meetings. No, he responded. This is not an "official" meeting. Just get it on the calendar. If you are expecting it to be on the calendar, I said, then it is official. If you are expecting to be able to come to my room at a certain time on a certain day each week to see me meeting with my team, it is an official meeting. This debate went on for quite some time. I just continued to send emails to teachers, encouraging them to meet whenever they wanted to but to not get it on a calendar as requested, as Mr. Principal was out of compliance with the contract by requesting it. I think a few brown-nosers put their meeting on the calendar, but most did not. After awhile, I did not hear anything more about team meetings. When we got back from winter break and started things rolling once again, in now for the long haul, Mr. Principal again announced at our first staff meeting that he needed us to get our team meetings on the calendar. Immediately, I sent our union president an email. I told her I was tired of this same battle, that he was not listening to me, and that I needed her now to get out to our building to tell Mr. Principal that I was and always have been right about the team meetings. She did that. There was no more requests that year.

Way to Motivate!

The other day my principal came into my room during the day to give me the results from the state testing last May. As fourth graders, my current students tested in reading, math, and writing. The results from the testing as a whole were not really good. Anyway, the state sends the results to the school districts to distribute as they see fit, either by mail or to send out to schools to send home with kids. It gets quite costly to send them out by mail, so our district hands them out to students. So enter Mr. Principal. Mr. Principal hands me a huge stack and tells me to separate out the results for my students. As I am busily doing this, he proceeds to give the kids a "pep talk." He begins by asking them how many are thinking of college. Just about of fourth of my class raised their hand, I was surprised to see (I have my work cut out for me this year.). But, we are a 51% free and reduced school, so I know money is a poor subject for many families. But there are ways to make it work. Mr. Principal then dives into a speech about the state testing they did from last year, and how it was just a snapshot of where the were at that time, and how the important thing is to work hard to keep improving. This was good. Then came the uninspirational part. He tells the kids how expensive college is, giving as an example the fact that he is paying $12,000.00 a year for his older daughter to attend college. He then has to begin talking more about himself, something he loves to do. He tells the students that he is taking his Administrator's III (or something like that), and when he finishes he will have paid $70,000! So how did he ever think that this was something to motivate my class? Half of my class is on Free and Reduced lunch. Money is tough. It's hard to come by. And here he is, telling them how expensive college is? Doesn't he realize that many kids right then might think, "Well, that's out, then. Guess I'd better do something else..." The next day I decided I had better follow up on that discussion. I asked the class to remember what Mr. Principal had said the other day. I then told the kids that college was absolutely something any one of them could do if they wanted. I talked about studying hard. I talked about scholorships. I said they could work part time while they went to college. I talked about starting (and sometimes finishing) at a community college. I told them that with a college degree, there was nothing that they couldn't do! I hope I motivate quite a few of my kids this year, in spite of Mr. Principal.

Typical...You Just Gotta Laugh!

Yesterday, after being in school for 2.5 weeks and wondering when our kids who qualified for extra educational support services were going to start getting pulled, we got this email: "You are receiving this email because you have students in your classes that are either placed in Language!, or going to be tested for possible placement in Language! We are 99.9% confident that the kids being tested are going to qualify for Language! services. The attachment shows all the kids and the times they attend. • All of Ms. ELL Teacher’s kids are being tested next week for Language!. They qualify for placement based on their most current DIBELS (and their MSP scores for 5th graders). • The Ms. Intervention Specialist kids that have (test) after their name qualify for placement and need to take the Placement Test. Most likely they will qualify and will stay in Language! with me. The kids that have (will be exited) after their names will finish Language! in the next few weeks and will move out of the Language program, most likely, and back into the classroom as Tier 2 kids. The kids that have (could be exited) will be in Language! for the next few weeks as we finish Book A, and, depending on their end of book assessments, could be exited from the program. I won’t know until we finish the end of book assessments. • The Ms. Special Ed Teacher kids are in the Language! program at the times listed. We will start on Monday! Please notice not all kids are out of CORE for the entire CORE time. As the classroom teacher, it is your responsibility to differentiate instruction daily, especially on Fridays when the Language! students are NOT pulled out for Language!. We are here to offer support w/ materials and ideas, just let us know if you need anything!" So, that was a lot of information to digest, and all of us classroom teachers did just that. But then only ten minutes later came an update to that email: "...An update, just for Wednesday, September 19th: Students in Ms. ELL Teacher or Ms. Intervention Specialist’s morning Language! groups will not be pulled on Wednesday. Sorry for the early cancelation, but this is so that we can support two of our teachers as they go out to observe master teachers at another school – it’s a great opportunity for them! Thanks for understanding..." So we are starting, bet then some groups are stopping, pay attention, teachers, and then we are starting again...Good Grief! I think I will really lose my mind this year. But I thought it was hysterical to see the update only 10 minutes later. I just laugh and think, "Now that will go into my blog!" You gotta laugh, you know? I just can't make this stuff up.

Help! I Need Somebody...

So I have this autistic boy. Nice kid, but nothing like I've ever dealt with before. He talks really loudly and is always making noises that distract others. He never does anything I ask kids to do; I assumed he couldn't handle regular work. But he's not incapable. He's got smarts. So today I got his pull-out schedule, and saw that he'd really only be out of my class on a regular basis for about an hour a day. What? Nice kid aside, I had been hoping to share the pleasure of his company with someone else for a larger portion of the day. I stared in disbelief at this schedule, but it didn't magically change. My next move was to email Mrs. Special Education teacher. Mrs. Special Ed Teacher is a nice enough gal, but she got her teaching start through Teach For America, a program that puts college kids who didn't major in education into education positions, thus taking away teaching positions from college graduates who actually obtained an education degree. Teaching unions are against this program. She's also in Mr. Principal's "In" group, so I'm suspicious of her. Other than that she seems ok. She's young, not yet 30, newly married, and a fit soccer player. "Really? Is this a joke?" I inquired via email, as professionally as I could. But yes, it was true. "Then who will support me with Bobby?" I continued to press. Well, Mrs. Special Education Teacher said, we can get together and talk about how to modify lessons for Bobby. Ok, I said. We decided to meet after school. Fast forward to after school. I was in my room, expecting Mrs. Special Education Teacher to show up at any moment to show me how to modify math lessons for Bobby. I was busy working on labeling student files so I could finally get organized. I was busily working, cutting 1" by 2" labels and writing student names on them, and fixing up my student file box so that I could finally file away the various math and reading beginning of the year assessments. My goal next week is to get the students working on their goals. The must each set a math, reading, and writing goal, and I need to get started on that. From time to time I glanced up at the clock, wondering where Mrs. Special Ed Teacher was. I had pulled out math things and had them laying on Bobby's desk, waiting to hear how I was to modify things for Bobby. Finally, about an hour after school got out, my phone rings. It's Mrs. Special Ed Teacher. "Were we still getting together?" she inquired. "Yes," I replied. "I've just been here working, waiting for you to come over." She seemed sort of surprised that I expected her to come to my room instead of me coming to her room. But ok, she said, I'll be over right away, because I want to go over to The Rock to help celebrate Ms. Para Educator's bithday. She hung up, and I couldn't help but fume. Of course you will come to my classrooom, I thought. I'm clear across the campus from you. I'm the one who has all the math stuff here in my room. There is no way I'm carting all the math books all the way over in my tennis-elbow arms, when it's much easier for you to get your little toned, soccer-player butt over here. But I didn't say that.

Be Careful What You Write!

At the beginning of the year I do this activity in science to teach about writing a clear, consice procedure. I pair the kids up, show them a bag of bread, peanut butter, a jar of jam, and a knife. Together with their partner, they have to write me the step by step directions for making a peanut butter and jam sandwich. Then, I follow their directions to see what exactly I end up making. It's pretty fun, and at first most kids don't even tell me to take the lid off the jars or take the bread out of the bag, so I'm unable to make the sandwich. After I finish trying to make sandwiches with little success, I let the partners try writing the procedure again. The second time usually results in pretty successful sandwiches. Kids love it, especially when I follow directions to a T and end up with a messy result. Anyway, that's the activity my kids have been working on this week. Now, I have three kids in my class who had me last year in my 4/5 split. I knew that those kids would know exactly how specific they needed to be in their directions to make a sandwich. I had paired up those kids, and waited to do them the very last. Out of about 12 partner pairs, only one pair was successful with a "normal" looking sandwich. Then I took Mary's directions. Mary was quite excited. Mary and Sam had know exactly what to do, and they knew they got it right. I put their set of directions under the camera for all to see. Mary and Sam were very specific, and had 14 steps to their procedure. Everyone was impressed, and Mary and Sam were quite smug. Their first step said, "Take your hand and grab the jar of peanut butter and twist the lid off." Most all steps began with, "Take your hand and..." I had a good time with that one. They were a bit too specific, but hey, I knew what to do with their directions, and that was the point. I followed their directions exactly, and ended up with a wonderfully made peanut butter and jam sandwich. Then I got to step 14. I started to read it out loud, and then burst out laughing! Step 14 said, "Now call out, 'I'm finsihed!' and eat your sandwich!" So I called out, "I am finished!" and I ate the sandwich I had just made...

Little Miss S

So school has begun for us. Last week I worked pretty much all week. Monday and Tuesday were staff inservice days. Monday started at 8 am and ended at 3:30. I then worked in my room until 8:30 pm, as the next day was a "Meet and Greet" event frm 4-7 pm, and I wanted everythng to be up on my walls with my desks in place. At the Meet and Greet, I met Miss S. Miss S. and her family are not only new to the school, but they are new to the country. They are from the Netherlands, and are here for a year for the father's job. They came just one month ago. When I first looked at my class list, I saw Miss S.'s name, and assumed it was Middle Eastern. It is long as begins with an S and ends with a "jn." There are a a few vowels in there somewhere as well. On the first day of school my goal was to learn how to say her name, but by the end of the day I was still calling her, "Miss S." Well Miss S. is having a hard time. On the first day of school, her mom came into the room with her. I greeted them warmly, and called the girl "Miss S." She smiled, and her mom told me that they had all begun calling her Miss S. at home. So I knew it would be ok to continue that moniker. Since I have 28 kids this year, I quickly became quite busy trying to help everyone get settled. I also have an autistic boy, and another boy on the Asperger's Spectrum. The autistic boy's mom also was hanging out trying to talk to me. I know they are all concerned, but I've got 28 to deal with RIGHT AWAY, and have no time for their tidbits of wisdom in how to deal with their child. Miss S.'s mom came up to me at one point and told me how nervous Miss S. was. I said something about totally understanding that. Still she didn't leave. A bit later she came up again, telling my how nervous Miss S. was, and that she was afraid I'd ask her a question in class and she wouldn't understand me. Well, let me tell you that Miss S.'s English was really quite good, so I wasn't too worried. But I looked over at Miss S. as I was trying to take attendance and she was in tears. Mom came up to me a third time, and I told mom that Miss. S. would probably be much better once she left. She knew I was right, and eventually did leave. She stayed in my class for a half hour... Miss S. continued to cry. I think she can't read english, and I didn't want to question her about it right then to make things worse. So one of the first things the kids had to do was to choose a book of my shelf to read, and I had her just choose from my picture book backet or magazine basket. Miss S. cried while she chose. She cried while she looked at the magazine and cried while she colored. Finally, at about 11 am, one and a half hours after school had begun, we began an activity where each kid had to write four clues about himself or herself on an index card. I called Miss S. over to my small groups table, and had her tell me the clues while I wrote them down. Let me tell you that she seemed to have no trouble understanding what it was she was to tell me. I told her so, too. I told her that she was going to do just fine. And she didn't cry the rest of the day. Then came the second day of school. When the bell rang for school to begin, I went out to pick up my large class of 28 children. As I came out, one of our paraeducators came over to me. "Miss S. is in the office crying," she told me. OK. I took the kids into class and started my day. After about a half hour Mrs. Librarian brought a tearful Miss S. back to my room. I hugged Miss S., told her I was so glad to see her, and told her to get settled because we were going to learn a game. I then taught the kids how to play Nim, a strategy game. It's easy to learn, and we played two games me against the class. I won the first game and lost the second one on purpose. I knew she understood how to play. It's simple. So I then had the kids partner up to play each other. Miss S. came up to me crying, saying she wanted to go to Mrs. Librarian. I told her she had to play one game first, so one of my boys asked to play with her, and she agreed. I watched them, and she seemed to be doing fine. I didn't think she'd still go to see Mrs. Librarian, but sure enough, after she played one game, up she came to me. So I had her sign out, take the pass, and go. Later, a PTA mom came into my room. She waited patiently until I could talk with her. "I just want you to know that Miss S. is helping with lunch in the MPR," she told me. "She was in the library helping Mrs. Librarian. Now she's helping her little sister's class at lunch." I decided that was a good thing for her to do, and started to think about working out a daily time that Miss S. could go to her little sister's class to help out. Soon though Miss S. came back. It was right before our lunch, and Miss S. was crying. I told her we had to go to lunch. She said she wasn't hungry. I said I was sorry about that, but it was my lunch time too, and she had to go to the MPR with the class, so line up. She did, and we went over to lunch. Miss S. continued to cry. In the lunchroom I introduced her to Mrs. Lunch Lady and to Mrs. Office Helper, and then gave Miss S. a hug and left. When the kids came in from recess, Miss S. wasn't crying, and didn't cry the rest of the day. What will next week be like?

Still Hate New Format

I still hate this new blog format. I don't know how to make paragraphs, so my posts are just one big blob. A blob blog. People must hate trying to read it. I even emailed for help, I thought, but didn't hear back. So sorry.

I Had Your Order All the Time!

As I said earlier, my staff loves me. Probably most of them, anyway...So, also before school even started, I got a message of Facebook from one of the teachers at my school. The message said, "Did you see the e-mail about the office staff whining about stuff being brought back to the workroom in a mess. I'm sure one of them went to Mr. Principal and complained and now we all get bitched at. If I whine about my job will he do a whole staff e-mail and tell people to be nice. Welcome back. I'm already depressed...." So, I went onto my school email account (which we were told later at our inservice that whenever we access school accounts on our home computer, our info becomes their knowledge? WTF?) to check the email in question. It did indeed border on a scolding, as if we were children and Mr. Principal was our father. Not outright, but borderline. Considering that last year we did receive several scolding emails, though, it was close enough to a scolding to tick teachers off. So I did a reply email: Wow! You mean our workroom is all stocked and ready to go? Good to know! Because I went into the workroom last week to find plain tagboard that I requested last June, and couldn't find any. But being the flexible person I am, I went on to Plan B to find other ways to cut out all letters of our traits to put up in the room as we are required to do. Unfortunately, Plan B meant that I couldn't do the beginning of the year activity with my kids that I usually do..." This email reply of course got me lots of positive replies from staff members, either to me directly, or to the whole staff complaining as well about the poorly stocked workroom. Mr. Prinicpal also replied to me directly, saying "The workroom isn't finished being stocked yet! Ms. Office Helper will finish Monday! =)" My reply to him: Well, good, but since school starts Thursday, Monday is really too late for me to wait for tag. I already cut out all eight traits and have put them up in my room." But here is the funniest part of this whole thing! Wednesday, the day before school started, was a teacher work day. A teacher could work in his or her room for 7.5 hours and get paid for it, or if they preferred the could come in anytime after August 15 to put in the 7.5 hours. Most teachers do both, thereby donating much of their time. I was not exception, particularly since I had totally packed up my class in June so had to completely unpack this year. I probably put in 20 hours in setting up my room. It took 4.5 hours alone just to unpack my personal collection of kid books and get them reorganized on shelves... So, there I was on Wednesday, the day before the first day of school, walking out of the staff workroom with chatting with another teacher (another old brunette...wish she had moved out to my wing...). Our office manager, who I believe was the one who I had put my plain tag order to back in June, came around the corner. "Oh, Ms. 5th Grade Teacher! I have the tag you ordered." I stared at her blankly for a minute, trying to comprehend what she was saying. "I didn't order any tag," I replied. "I ordered it for you, like you asked me," she said. "I have it for you in the office!" "Oh," I said. "Well, last week when I didn't see it in the workroom, I made a Plan B and used different tag." Mrs. Office Manager said, "I didn't put it in the workroom. It is in the office just for you! I always order it specially just for you!" Again, I thought, "WTF??" But I gave her a kiss on her lying head, because I believe she did not order it for me until she saw my reply about not finding it in the workroom. The fact that she thought that the DAY BEFORE THE FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL I could get all eight traights cut out and stapled up in my room, which involves much climbing up and down on a ladder, shows that she just has no clue. But I thanked her, knowing she ordered the tag at the last minute, and most likely it had just come in. "Put it in the workroom," I said. "Someone will want it." That lady will never admit to mistakes.

Back in the Saddle Again

First of all, you have to understand that I'm unhappy to be returning to the same district where I have been teaching the past 7 years. I applied to two districts last spring; I know that isn't very many, but I was so sure I'd get a job at one of them. One of the districts I applied to was my former school district, and what with my experience and success the past few years with a more diverse community, I thought for sure they'd want to hire me back, especially at one of the three more diverse and challenging elementaries. The other district I applied to is about the same ecomonic community as the one I am currently teaching in, they just pay better, are a smaller district, and offer some of the same things my former district offered, such as total TRI pay (sorry for the teacher lingo) as well as weekly late starts for teams to plan. And no morning duty. God. I hate morning duty. More on that later... Anyway, so last year after school ended, I spent two and a half days packing up my room completely. I wanted to be ready at a moment's notice to load up and go to a new school. How depressing it has been to return to my same pathetically old building and room and unpack everything that took me so long to pack up in June. It feels like I'm a failure. I'm bummed to be back at my school, and worse, the only other teacher in my wing that was my age moved to another school in my district. The replacement they hired is a sweet, young, blond gal. In my wing are thre young blonds. Hmmm...No one my age. I'm the old brunette. But even though I was not happy to return to my school, many teachers came up to me on my first day back, giving me hugs and saying they were happy I was back. Why? They like me as a union rep! So I'm glad someone's happy. So before school even started I was already getting unhappy emails from teachers about things Mr. Principal was doing. 1. Mr. Principal sent a welcome back letter to staff. In the letter he said that we were welcome to return to school to set up our room any time after August 20. However, in our contract, it is stated that we can return any time after August 15. Because of how the days of the week fell, that was only the difference of two work days, but still. He can't ignore the contract. Several emails later, and he was told this by KEA. He blamed this on the custodial staff, who weren't quite done with all of the classroom carpets. So, how is this our problem? It is not. Also, what did they do all summer long if the carpets are ready less than two weeks before school is to begin? But score one for teachers who got to go in before 8/20. 2. Our first two days of Staff Inservice were August 27th and 28th, as our first day of school was August 30th (I think it is criminal to begin school while it is still August). In our Welcome Back email, Mr. Principal said that our days would start at 8 am. Now, our regular contracted day begins at 8:30 am, because the student day begins at 9:30 am. Mr. Principal has tried to do this before where he will put a start time for an inservice day a half hour earlier than normal. While most staff don't care, those with small kids and regular child care issues do. I got many unhappy emails again from staff, saying an 8 am start presented a hardship. I sent an email to Mr. Principal asking why we were beginning at 8 am instead of 8:0 am. The response I got was that the district had set the times. So I then emailed Ms. Union President to ask if this was true. Her response was not satisfying; apparently the union had made a deal with the district to provide some training one afternoon to teachers who couldn't or wouldn't attend a summer training. In return, the district said that on the day you had the afternoon training, the day would start at 8 am. It wasn't communicated to union reps like it should have been. Still, it sounded like just that one day, not both, should begin at 8 am. So I emailed Mr. Principal again, inquiring further about our start time the first day. He said I could take a poll from teachers, which I did. Most teachers did not care about the start time, but there were more who specifically said that they prefered an 8:30 am start to an 8 am start. Did Mr. Principal change it? No, he did not. He said there wasn't time. So, score one for Mr. Principal.

More Investigative Work

The very next day after the "Hello Bitch!" fiasco where I had to match handwriting, another opportunity arose for more investigative work where I had to get a writing sample. Every year for the last two weeks or so of school, my students work on an "ABC Book of School Memories." It's a great activity, forces them to reflect, and hopefully they'll have a nice memory book to look back on when they are older. So this year, as in year's past, my students had this assignment. The books were due today. And as usual, only about half came in. But I sorted through the ones I got, making sure names were on them and everything was in order. Then I come to Gordon's book. Now, Gordon is a fourth grade boy. He's quite a sporty little guy; his dad played on the Husky football team in college. And Gordon is a pretty bright kid. But he's lazy, and I think he is babied at home. He seems to have a brother and sister who are quite a bit older than he is. His fine motor skills are not strong. I don't consider him to be a neat worker; his writing is usually hard to read and his drawings are primary. So I was quite surprised to see the cover of his book beautifully drawn with "ABC" prominently and neatly and aritistically displayed on front. I began to flip through the book, and every page was elegantly and legibly printed. It was beautiful. And I knew in an instant that he did not do it. He did his drawings, or most of them, and I knew the ideas were his. But the writing in the book was not. So I called Gordon into the hallway. I had his book. After the door to the classroom closed, I said to Gordon, "Gordon, I just finished looking at your ABC Book, and I just want to say that this is the most beautiful work you have ever done! Each page is so neatly written, it's almost like you didn't even write it! If I didn't know better, I'd say someone else wrote it! How were you able to do such neat work that I've never seen you do before?" Gordon sort of liked his upper and then his lower lip, a habit he has thereby giving him sort of a clown mouth as it is red and chapped. "Well," he said, "I just wanted to do my best work. I wrote really slowly so that I could be neat." "Well, you sure succeeded!" I said. "In fact, I'd like to see you do this again! Come here!" I took him back into the classroom and gave him some unlined construction paper, the very same the kids used for the ABC books. "Let me turn to one of my favorite pages in your book!" I flipped through his book until I found a page with a lot of writing. "Here," I said. "I love this page! So much writing, but it is all so neat. Let's see you do that page again!" He sat down at his desk, page and book before him, crayon in hand, and began to copy as neatly as possible. His tongue kept licking his lips. Soon, though, he brought it up to me. "I finished," he said. I eagerly took it and looked at it. Then I looked at him. "Gordon," I said. "Come back to hall with me." I walked out without looking back to see if he was following me. In the hall I turned to Gordon. I held his freshly written page next to the page from his ABC Book (Gordon had actually done fairly neat work, too). "Gordon," I said, "This does not look like the writing in the book. Look at the writing in the book. Look how even it is. Your writing on this page you just did is not even. And look how you crowded in these words...Gordon, I'll ask you again. Did you do the writing in this book?" He knew he was caught. You can't deny the writing when it is in front of him. "No, I didn't do the writing..." he said quietly. "Well, Gordon, I didn't think you did when I first saw it," I said. "So who wrote it?" "My sister," he answered. "She did a nice job. But it wasn't her job to do. It was your assignment. And you are almost in the fifth grade. You should not be asking or allowing anyone in your family to do the work for you. You are perfectly capable of doing this work yourself. Further, the more writing you do, the better you become. If someone else is doing the writing, then you don't improve. You just remain like a little kid. How does that help you? Now, I don't want to hear of you doing this every again. It is your assingment, and you are the only one who should do the work. Do you understand me?" Or something like that, I think. He nodded yes. "I cannot give you a grade for everything in the book. I'll give you a grade for the ideas and for most of the pictures, since the ones at the end don't look like your work. Maybe I'll give your sister a grade, too. She gets a good grade for neatness, but she gets a failing grade for not letting her brother learn on his own." Oh, gee. The end of the year is upon us. Two bald-faced lies. Many times in the hallway talking sternly to a kid. But catching them in their lie? Priceless.

Hello, Bitch!

Today in the afternoon, Molly came up to me. "Mrs. Teacher, someone gave me this." She handed me this bright yellow piece of foam, the kind used for craft projects. It had something scrawled on it in blue pen. I read it in disbelief. It said, "Hello Bitch! To: Molly From: Johnny" I looked up to make eye contact with Johnny. "Johnny?" I said. "You wrote this?" He adamantly shook his head no. Molly confirmed that indeed Tommy had handed the note to Johnny to give to her. So I called Tommy over. "What is this?" I asked. He seemed confused. "Molly said you gave it to Johnny to give to her. Did you write this note?" I asked further. "No," Tommy replied. "I found it in my desk." "You found it in your desk?" I asked. He nodded. Well, it wasn't out of reach that someone could have planted it in Tommy's desk just to get him into trouble, although my class just seems too nice and too family-like to do that. But maybe the intent was that it was a practical joke. But, Tommy then spoke. "I only added that last part," he said. Well, that was Tommy's undoing. I looked at the note. "You mean you added the 'From: Johnny' part?" Tommy nodded. "Why would you want to get Johnny into trouble:" I inquired further. Johnny shrugged, and I smelled something fishy. The 'From: Johnny' part looked suspiciously like the 'To: Molly' part...I had to find a sample of Tommy's writing so I could compare the note. Now, our last day of school is next Wednesday. We have been writing a poem a day, as I always do the last coupld of weeks of school. Then I put together these collections of their poems and give them out on the last day of school. It's a cute keepsake, and I hope a treasure. But I hadn't really been good about checking off the poems to see who had turned in what...And Tommy isn't the most reliable when it comes to turning things in. So this forced me to be organized. I took my Homework basket and began to sort and check off the various poems. There were about five different poems so far. And as I feared, Tommy either hadn't turned in a poem or he'd done it on the computer. I began to worry that I wouldn't get a good writing sample. Then I hit pay dirt. There was a poem done by hand by Tommy. And sure enough. The 'H' in 'Hello' matched an 'H' in the poem. The lower case 'e' in the the 'Hello' matched an'e' in the poem. Aha. I knew I had him. "Tommy, I need to see you in the hall, please," I said. I walked out without turning around. He followed me into the hall. I shut the door to the classroom, and turned to Tommy. "Look," I said. I held the note next to the poem he had written. "It looks to me like the exact same handwriting as the note. See? These two H's are the same. And so are these two e's. Now, did you write that note?" Tommy looked down at the floor, desparately trying to think of a way out, I am sure. But he had been caught. Finally he admitted that he had written the note. "So you wrote a mean note about someone, used profanity, and lied to your teacher. Hmmmm. I'm thinking you and I will be going to the office at your recess. You need to have a chat with Mr. Principal." We went back into the room, and Tommy, who sits in the back, sat down and put his head in his hands. I knew he was crying. Basically, Tommy is a good kid. I was hoping this would make a big impression on him. I pretty much ignored him. I sent an email to his mom, who loves me. Then I sent an email to Mr. Principal. Then I was just busy doing other things. Soon, Tommy comes up to me, and he looks awful. "Mrs. Teacher, I really don't feel well. My head aches," he said. "I'm sure it does," I said. "Guilt and fear will do that. I'm glad I'm not you..." and I returned to my busy work. Finally recess came, and I took Tommy to the office, just as Mr. Principal arrived. "All right, Tommy, come on in...I read the email from Mrs. Teacher..." I left the note, the poem, and a white slip with Mr. Principal and left. It was my planning time. If all went the way it should, Tommy will think twice next time.

It's My Birthday, and I'll Cry If I Want To

THe other day it was Crazy Hair Day at our school. I, of course, did not participate...but kids had fun. Many of my students did have crazy hair styles. Later that day, just as I had gotten the kids started on a reading assessment so I could give some end of the year reading grades, my door opens as a parent peeks in. In a loud voice (I love how they seem to not even realize that hey, the room is deadly silent, so something important must be going on...)she said, "Can I have anyone who wore a crazy hair style to come into the hallway for a picture?" I sigh, and say yes. I dismiss about half my class, and get the other half settled. Quickly, the kids who left came back. "Her battery died," they said, "and she'll come back later for a picture." Oh joy, I thought. Another interruption. About 2 pm the same mom opens my door. "I can take the picture now," she tells me. "Well, about half of my class is not here," I told her. "They are in math interventions. If you want to come back at about 3:10, they'll just be down the hall in music, and you could grab them then." She said that would work. So we went about the rest of our day. At 2:35 I sent the kids out for recess. After recess we just stack and pack, and they get either music or pe for the last 35 minutes of the day. As we lined up in the hallway outside of music, Tina, an adorable little girls whose birthday it was that day, came up to me. "Mrs. Teacher!" she said. "I didn't get my picture taken for Crazy Hair Day!" "Well, no one did," I replied. "Mrs. Parent Helper's battery died. I told her to grab you guys from music to get the picture." "But other kids are saying they got their picture taken!" she cried. I looked to my other crazy-haired students for verification. They told my that Mrs. Parent Helper had grabbed them during recess. Tina had not gotten her picture taken with the group from my class. "I'm sorry, Honey," I said. "I guess she did take the picture." Tina walked to the back of the line, her head hanging. Soon, had her head in her hands and was crying. That damn mom, I thought. Why didn't she take the kids when I told her? Why did she think grabbing them at recess was a good idea? "C'mon, Tina," I said. "I'm going to find someone to take your picture!" I marched her, still crying, to the office. I hoped at least that Mr. Principal would be there, or that we could find him, as he lives for taking pictures of students and school events. We got into the office, and lo and behold, there was Mrs. Parent Helper, signing out her younger daughter from school. "Oh, good!" I exclaimed. "We found you! Tina didn't get her picture taken for Crazy Hair Day when you grabbed the kids at recess, and she is very upset. And it's her birthday today. No one should have to be upset on their birthday..." So Mrs. Parent Helper took a picture of a smiling, red-eyed Tina with Crazy Hair. I hope it makes it into the year book.

Parent Complaint

I love my class this year. I pride myself on my good relationships with kids and parents. I think that's my strength, and I work hard to make sure every kid feels appreciated. That's why I was dumbfounded to read an email from Mr. Principal last week. It said, "When you get a chance, stop by to chat about a parent concern." No more details than that, which is something all principals, at least in my district, do: They tell you in the vaguest sense to stop by, and then you worry and worry all day. Finally I got a chance to stop by. I went in a closed the door. Mr. Principal said he had gotten this phone message from Billy's mom, and he wanted to play it for me. I listened in disbelief as Billy's mom began to just rant about me, how I didn't appreciate her child and he's so unhappy he cries and doesn't want to go to school, how this has never happened to him before, how it's been going on all year, etc., etc. She ended by saying she just wanted him pulled out of my class (with only 27 days left?), or that maybe she'd just keep him home and homeschool him for the rest of the year (which, in Mr. Principal's favor, he laughed about, commenting how it was funny that parents thought that was a threat...). I was glad Mr. Principal had let me listen to it, although it was really tough to listen to. "Well," I said, "Let me give you a bit of background on this family that you may not know..." I know that Mr. Principal himself registered the kids when they moved here about a year ago from Georgia. But I told Mr. Principal that it was a divorce that forced the move. I told him that at February conference, I got the distinct impression that they are unhappy. There was a divorce, which forced them to uproot and move across the country because her mom lives here. Further, she says she is a college graduate but the only place she has been able to find work is at a Money Lending Store type of place, where she works a lot, and doesn't have the time to spend with the kids like she used to (maybe in Georgia before the divorce she was a stay at home mom? I bet she was...). Further, she told me back in February, Billy is unhappy because he hasn't made any friends. I found that to be unbelievable, as my class is so nice. But Billy is very much a little adult himself. If he could, he'd spend his whole time hanging out with me. When he goes to his math teacher, it is the same for her. He always is up talking with her. I've seen him at recess, and he hangs with the recess teacher a lot. Back in February, Billy's mom was upset with me, but I felt that as I talked with her, her frustrations really seemed to be about Billy and his inability to make friends. We talked about who he's hung out with so far, and one kid she mentioned had his conference next, so Billy's mom said that I could mention to the other kid and his parents that Billy would like to hang out more. She seemed fairly appeased by the end of the conference, although still unhappy because Billy, who is apparently gifted, just got average grades. Anyway, I talked with the next family, got them thinking about Billy, and all seemed to be good. And now this. I told Mr. Principal I hadn't heard anything from the mom really since the February conference. I had been emailing her if Billy didn't get something turned in, as she had been very angry that I wasn't doing that (a 5th grader? Come on, mom, he needs to be responsible himself. But I digress.). But she never really replied to the emails unless it was to ask something about the assignment. Also, come to think of it, her dad was ill and in the hospital recently. I don't know why, or whatever happened with that, but that would add stress as well. So her message said I didn't appreciate the kind of kid her Billy is...And I wracked my brain trying to think of why he'd think that. The only things I can come up with might be times where he just wants to be at my side, and I make him get back to work. Or, when I take attendance, I call kids names and they answer with a greeting. They used to just say, "Here," but as the year has progressed, they get more creative with their greetings. After my 5th graders got back from camp, some of the kids would sing a few bars from a camp song. Billy would sing the whole song if I let him. I've had to cut him off. Even the kids thought it was a bit much. He might also feel that he is not being appreciated because I don't make a big deal about his contributions to class discussions? Perhaps. Like I said, he's supposed to be gifted but I don't see it. I really treat him no differently than any other kids. Does he expect more? But Mr. Principal said he'd first talk to Billy, as I was not supposed to even know about the call. Later, he called Billy to the office. When Billy came back to class, there was an email to me from Mr. Principal that just simply said, "I think this will work out just fine. Nice kid." I couldn't chat with Mr. Principal later, so I don't know what transpired. Oh, well. It's weird to have a class I love with some out-of-the-ordinary parent situations.

Isn't That "Teacher Appreciation Week?"

So, this week is Teacher Appreciation Week at our school. I love this week. Each day our PTA plans some treat or something to make our week special. Then the weekend comes and its Mother's Day. I love being appreciated for things I love doing: teaching, and being a mom. Last week, our PTA sent out a schedule of treats they had planned for the teachers. Monday was "Morning Muffin Monday." Tuesday were smoothies from Jamba Juice. Wendesday was a salad luncheon. Thursday was a surprise in our box. And Friday was chocolate goodies in the staff room. Monday came, and it was outstanding! I love muffins in the morning! And there were lots to choose from. There were so many morning treats that there were leftovers for the next day. Tuesday came. Before school began there was an email reminding us that there would be Jamba Juice smoothies delivered in late morning. The email said they'd be delivered about 11:00 am. I was looking forward to them all morning long, since my first break is not until 11:55 am, when my students go outside for their lunch recess. So all morning long I worked with the kids on prepping for our state test coming up. I first had the kids work on expository writing, and then at math time I worked with a small group of students reviewing factors and multiples. It was a busy morning with no chance to even sit and look at my emails. Finally, it was time for recess. I didn't rush out the door to the staff lounge, but did get to the lounge about 10 minutes into my break. I went in and saw staff happily sipping their smoothies. I looked over at the table where food is usually put out in these types of situations, but there was nothing there. I did see a big Jamba Juice box, so I went over and peeked in. Completely empty. "Where are the Jamba Juices?" I inquired. "They are all gone. Didn't you get one?" someone replied. "No," I said. "I was busy teaching all morning. This is my first break. How can they all be gone when it is only first lunch?" I asked. No one really had an answer, but there were other staff members in there sipping away who weren't teachers. One even said to me, "It isn't very good, really..." "I think it looks pretty good. I can't believe they are all gone." I said. I went back to my room and sat at the computer. Then I saw an email that was sent about 10:45 that morning. It said, "Jamba Juice smoothies are here! Come get one! Yum!" So who could go get a smoothie at 10:45? Well, anyone who wasn't teaching then, that's who. That's why 40 smoothies disappeared by first lunch, when teachers actually had time to go get one. If a teacher had an earlier break, she was lucky and could grab one. Otherwise, the office staff and the support staff apparently sooped in and got them all. So I replied to the email: By the time I got to the staff room at first lunch, there were no smoothies left. I hope they were good. Happy Teacher Appreciation Week!" Many replies followed by other teachers who didn't get one, and then one student brought one into me, since that teacher had had one, then taken a second. But soon Mr. Principal had to send out a patronizing email, telling us to "play nice in the sandbox." He went on to say how we need to be appreciative of what our PTA does, and not complain, and that all staff are important. Possibly, but this is Teacher Appreciation Week, and our wonderful PTA provided this treat FOR TEACHERS, and there were about 40 smoothies delivered that all disappeared by first teacher lunch. Office staff and support staff have already had their appreciation weeks. This week was for teachers. One teacher said to me that Mr. Principal was probably just trying to cover himself since he was the one who gave the number of smoothies to order to PTA. It's a shame PTA didn't deliver them when the got them to school. All in all, it was a disappointing Teacher Appreciation Week this year. After Smoothie-gate, on Wednesday our PTA provided a salad lunch, but I wasn't at school as I went to court to explain my ticket from a few months ago. So I missed out. Then on Thursday was some little baggie of random things that went along with a poem. On Friday it was chocolate day, which would have been yummy, but I was home again as I had planned on taking my daughter late to school for her first AP test. So, I missed out all around. I'm still mad about the smoothies.

Help!

By the way, with this new format I can't figure out how to make paragraphs. It's driving me crazy, since my writing without paragraphs looks like writing I get from my students. If you know how, leave me a comment, ok? Thanks.

Detective Work

So, a parent complained to Mr. Principal that I do not send home notices on time...That's what Mr. Principal told me. I admitted that there may be times when I slipped up, but most likely I wasn't that bad...But as things alwasy do, it continued to bug me. Who could have called and complained? What parent doesn't feel comfortable enough with me to just send me an email? I pride myself on the relationships I build with parents. So I went home and continued to think about it. At our school, office staff and PTA are trying very hard to go paperless. That is tough to do when not all families have computers, or if they do, not all have internet access. So we have a "Red Dot" system. If a family does not have a computer or internet access, then the youngest sibling in the family or only sibling in the family gets a hard copy. A teacher is given a stack of handouts, with a red sticker on the top copy. This is our signal that the handouts go to the "Red Dot" families. When I get a "Red Dot" stack, I just say to the kids when I pass out papers, "OK-Every Red Dot Kid come get a handout!" I can't keep track of who the kids are. They file up, grab a handout, and sit back down or get ready to go home. It seems that I always have a few handouts left over. But I can't help that. I can't force a kid to take a handout, nor do I really care. I also do not put the handout in their backpack for them, nor do I go home with them to ensure that the handout gets delivered to the parent. That is not my job. I began to ponder whose mom complained to Mr. Principal. It had to be a Red Dot Kid. I began to try to think of who the Red Dot Kids were. It could be Johnny's mom, I thought. She wasn't happy with me at conference time, because her son, who is apparently gifted (although I don't see it) wasn't turning in his monthly reading logs. He didn't even take home his report card to show her when I sent them home the previous week. That, of course, was my fault, she said. It had to be her. I went to Mr. Principal. "Was it Johnny's monm?" I asked. "Johnny is not very responsible. He didn't even bring home his report card to give to his mom when I handed them out." "No," Mr. Principal replied. "It wasn't Johnny's mom. It was a girl." Hmm...A girl. It must have been Cindy. Her mom was unhappy with me at conference time because I didn't give Cindy any 4s. Of course, Cindy didn't earn any 4s, but that's beside the point. I should have given Cindy 4s. So I decided to trick Mr. Principal into admitting that it was Cindy's mom who complained. The next day I got to school and went into the office. I poked my head into Mr. Principal's office. "So, did you speak with Cindy's mom yet?" I asked innocently. But Mr. Principal just looked at me blankly. "oh. I guess it wasn't Cindy's mom who called..." I said. Mr. Principal just laughed and said no. I went into the library to the meeting that was being run by Ms. Education Assisstant, but my mind was still trying figure out who complained. I needed to know. I sent Mr. Principal another email. "Was it Jan's mom?" I asked. He replied back no. I really was running out of ideas as to who it would be. I had guessed all Red Dot Kids whose parents might have not felt comfortable coming to me. After the meeting, Mr. Principal came into the library. "I have to know who it is," I said. "It is driving me crazy." I also needed to know, and the parent also had said to Mr. Principal that when she asked me for ideas on how to help her kid, my response was vague and not helpful. That is the part that I didn't like to hear. I don't care if I slip up on handouts from time to time, but boy, I sure don't want parents thinking I can't offer helpful suggestions. That's my job. I also was slightly irritated that a parent would assume that their child is so totally responsible, that if a handout doesn't get home in time, it is the teacher's fault and not the child. The child is more responsible than I? That made me mad. But Mr. Principal gave me the clue I needed, even though he didn't realize it. He said that the mom mentioned something about getting a cheerleading handout late, and I knew who it was right away. I knew, because back in January (yes, that long ago)I had sent some papers and fliers home (we are supposed to send all handouts home on Thursdays), and the Aunt, who is the English speaker at the house, emailed me, asking me about all the handouts and the dates on them which were very soon and she didn't have much time to get it all organized...The Aunt was stressed. At the time, I told her that those were PTA handouts, and I couldn't really help her with them. I just get them in my box, and send them home when I get them. So the minute Mr. Principal said "cheerleading," I knew that it was Maria's Aunt. "It's Maria, right?" I said. Mr. Principal then admitted that it was Maria. "Well, I continued, "Do you know anything about Maria's homelife?" He said no. "Maria and her family moved here from New York right after Thanksgiving. They moved in with their Aunt and Uncle. The Aunt is American. Maria's mom is dying of cancer, and will go back to El Salvador when she is ready to die. Maria will just stay with the Aunt. The Aunt knows that she will become Maria's mother. I met the Aunt, whom I found very likable, but all of the suddent the Aunt is the mom of a school age kid. And I think she is stressed." I went to my room and glanced in Maria's messy desk. I saw a few handouts, and pulled them out. Yes, they were out of date already. When Maria got to school, I sent her to the office to get a Take Home Folder. Now I watch her like a hawk, and whenever I pass anything out, I make sure she had her folder out and ready. But I was unhappy that the Aunt told Mr. Principal that I had not been helpful when she asked how to support Maria's education. I emailed Mr. Principal. I told him that I had recommended several book series for Maria, and encouraged the Aunt to read to Maria and take her to the local library. I told the aunt that my goal for Marian was to write a complete sentence, and that she could help Maria at home with that. I told her that for math I wanted Maria to practice her basic math facts at home. I also had a small group of three students who met with me after school a few times prior to our Science Fair and we did a project together. I told Mr. Principal that I had indeed given the aunt specific helpful suggestions about how to help support Maria. He must have agreed, as he never brought it up again. As well, the aunt never contacted me. Mr. Principal did let it slip that I figured out who it was. She must have been too embarrassed.

Gotta Laugh!

We have staff meeting EVERY Tuesday and Thursday morning. It's a pain. Mr. Principal's allowed by contract to have two meetings a week, so by god, that's what he does. Last weekend, however, he sent out an email saying he would be cancelling Tuesday's meeting, and he hoped we appreciated that "gift of time." So on Monday, I sent Mr. Principal an email. Our email exchange went something like this: Me: So, did anyone protest that you canceled tomorrow's meeting? Mr. Principal: Well, one, if I count this email... Me: Yes, I was pretty devastated. Mr. Principal: Well, we have a Wellness Program. You can get four visits to a counselor to help you deal with the loss. Me: No, not necessary. I've already gone through the five stages of grief. I'm at Acceptance now...

Let's Blame the Teacher

Yesterday when I got to school in the morning I had an email from Mr. Principal. In the subject line it said "Let's Chat." I read the email. I opened the email, and it seemed that a parent had called Mr. Principal, complaining that I had not responded to a phone call in a timely manner. Really? Now, I do hate having to return phone calls. I prefer that parents contact me via email, but not all families have computers at home. But, I would say that mostly I return phone calls within 24 hours. But at my first break, I went to Mr. Principal's office. It turns out is wasn't about phone calls as the email implied (that was Mr. Principal's mistake). A parent called, saying that I did not send home school information in a timely manner, and that because of this, the family was always missing events and opportunities for the child. I have to admit that passing out info at the end of the day often slips my mind. The end of the day is always hectic. Plus, we are supposed to hand out notices on Thursday, so I begin a pile as things appear in my box, only to forget by Thursday. But I know I'm not the only one who does this. As well, our school has made valient attempts this year to send home as much email via email as possible. Often the only kids getting a hard-copy handout are the few without computers/internet access at home. Those handouts only go to specific kids. I call them my "Red Dot Kids," as on the top copy on the stack will be a red dot, letting me know that it only goes out to the few. When I had out notices, I generally get a kid to pass out notices that go to all students, and then organize the red dot handouts for the Red Dot kids to line up and pick up. My first impulse was to apologize, as I'm sure I have slipped up from time to time. But now I kick myself for doing that. How dare he assume that the parent is correct in saying the her kid is responsible and brings home every handout from school? Really? Have any other parents complained in my class that I don't pass out information in a timely manner? Back in February I had an conference that started out badly from the beginning, as the parent hadn't even seen the report card yet, even though I had sent them home the previous week. That was apparently my fault. I can pass out notices, and can send them home, but I have no control over whether they get into the backpack and then get handed to the parent. I think I know which student it was, though. Later that day, even though it wasn't Thursday, I passed out any notices I had (I have decided to no longer wait until Thursday, but pass out anything asap so if the parent complains again, I'll no it wasn't me). I had two notices to go out; one notice went to all students and gave info about the upcoming Art Walk at school on Friday. The other notice went to Red Dot Kids and was informing parents that Wednesday was a late-start day (also timely). I have about 11 notices in my Red Dot stack, but after kids came up to get them, five notices still remained. The student who I suspected of being the cause of this complaint did not come pick up a notice, I noticed... So after recess, as the kids got ready to go to PE (and then home from there), I asked all Red Dot Kids to raise their hand. Miss Red Dot Girl in Question raised her hand. I went to her directly, and said, "If you are a Red Dot Kid, why didn't you pick up that goldenrod notice?" She shrugged. I handed her a notice. Her mom is just mad at me because I didn't give her daughter 4s. Her daughter is not a 4. She is average. Get over it.

Not for the Faint of Heart ( or Sensitive Ears)

Today is Friday, which is my favorite day of the week, so it should have been fabulous. But everything seemed off today. This morning as I made an extra half pot of coffee for my husband, as I do each morning, I forgot to put the carafe back in. Pushed the on button. Yup. Coffee all over. Then at school during morning duty a kindergarten boy spit on another kindergarten boy. Then a 6th grade boy punched another 6th grade boy in the stomach. He said it was a "reflex." The other boy was doubled over on his side on the ground.

I thought the worst had passed. I was relieved that I could finally just close my door and teach my wonderful students. And all morning long it was just like that. We watched a video on animal adaptations and had a great discussion. I worked with my fourth graders on equivalent fractions. They literally sang my praises during their lunch. The came Literacy Intervention, my worst part of the day.

I hate this half hour. The three fourth grades intermix kids for extra literacy support. Ideally, all kids are getting support at exactly what they need support with...The reality is that all of my kids leave except for 3, and about 27 other kids come in from the other two 4th grade classes. These are not my kids, and the teachers they come from seem to allow behavior that I do not allow. It's stressful, and I spend the half hour missing my kids. I do have para educator help, so she takes half and works with them "somewhere else (I don't really care where; just take them away!)." There are some hard kids in the other two fourth grade classes, and I don't think either teacher is strong with disipline.

Anyway, one kid that comes to me for this half hour is Johnny. Johnny is autistic. He really should be in a self contained class, but his parents refuse. I had Johnny's sister two years ago-a wonderful girl whom I loved. But her parents were odd. Anyway, Johnny comes and only wants to read. If I try to get him to do more, he rebels loudly. So, do you know what? For a half hour, do I want to "work" with him and have him yelling and interupting the half hour for everyone? No, I do not. So I let him read.

Today when the kids came, one girl comes up to me and says, "Mrs. Teacher, Johnny isn't here right now because he is having a fit."

"In the hallway?" I asked.

"No," she replied. "Back at class." Good, I thought. Keep him there. I don't need to deal with him today. But before I know it, in walks Johnny. He sits down on the floor in the middle of the the room, and screams and cries. Also as if on cue, the office calls me. "I Johnny there?" the office lady asks.

"Yes," I yell, over Johnny's cries. "Can you hear him?" He was yelling, screaming, and crying so loudly I could barely hear Mrs. Office Lady over the speaker, and that is one loud speaker. "Is someone going to come get Johnny?" I asked hopefully.

Now Mrs. Office Lady sounds flustered. "Well...Aah...Mr. Principal and Mrs. Education Assisstant are both in a meeting right now. You'll have to wait until they are done."

"Great," I replied. Of course, no kid is doing their work. They are all intently watching the drama unfold, even though most are well-aquainted with Johnny and his behaviors. I work hard to get the kids back on track, and totally ignore Johnny. His crying does subside to a whimper, but when he hears someone snicker about him, he starts up again: "Why does everyone hate me?" or "I'm having a bad day..." You and me both, I think...

Soon, Mrs. Office Lady calls back. "How is Johnny," she asks.

"Still crying," I answer.

"I'll send Ms. Special Ed Teacher over," she said.

"OK," I reply. I continue to ignore Jonny.

Soon Mrs. Special Education Teacher comes. She walks into my room and sees Johnny reading quietly on the floor in the middle of my room. She looks confused and walks up to me. "What's going on?" she asked. I relayed that Johnny came into my class screaming and crying, but now he's settled. So she leaves.

After school Mrs. Special Education Teacher sent out an email to many people, including me, Mr. Principal, and Johnny's teacher. She said, "I was called to Mrs. 5th Grade Teacher's room to get Johnny, but when I got there, he seemed to have de-escalated. Perhaps Mrs. 5th Grade Teacher can shed some light on what got him upset when she talked to him."

I replied, "I didn't talk to him. I ignored him. He came to me yelling, screaming, and crying. He was so loud I couldn't hear the speaker when the office called. I sent an email to Mr. Principal to please send someone to come get him."

Mr. Principal replied, "I was in a meeting, unfortunately. Best to call the office for things like that."

I replied, "Well, the office seemed to be aware that something had set Johnny off, as they called me soon after he came. Johnny was yelling and screaming so loud I couldn't hear. When I suggested that someone come get Johnny, Mrs. Office Helper seemed flustered, and told me that you were in a meeting so I'd have to wait. I didn't counsel Johnny. I ignored him."

Then I went home. No wonder I'm so worn out all the time. What other job is so draining?