Educator Issues: Politics & Religion in the Classroom

Recently a family member of mine was discussing the difficulties of having a possibly-unfair teacher. In this discussion about fairness and being reasonable (more on that later), someone posted about the school being a horrible place because of "left wing idiots". And he put it all in caps. Ahh, the joys of Facebook.

This leads me to several thoughts.

First.
A teacher's politics should have nothing to do with the classroom. A teacher shouldn't be talking about their own political affiliations, who they voted for, or whatever. It just isn't appropriate and can start serious problems.

I once had a student who claimed, on the first days of class, to be a Young Republican. This was in Arizona, which if you've read ANY of the news in the last few years, you know to be a very polarized (and dare I say racist?) state. This student, in a room filled with kids who hated the Republican party for the laws they had passed, continued to speak his mind. Is it his right? Of course. Was it the safest thing to do? Maybe not. (Its really not wise to say, “Hey, you guys got your papers? NO?! THEN YOU'RE DEPORTED! Hahahhaah!”)

Yet, was I going to spout my own views at him? Not exactly. Because I was there to teach all children, regardless of what they believe, regardless of if it aligns or doesn't align to what I believe. And at a delicate age, when students are just starting to determine who they are, when emotions and hormones run high-- what damage would it do to my own credibility if I stood up and got on my soapbox? If a student doesn't agree with my philosophies politics (or religion for that matter-- the two are so intertwined these days), it may stop them from wanting to listen to me talk about things that are FACTUAL. It changes and can taint the relationship. It starts drama and changes your environment from being a safe place, to another polarized sphere. Unless you are debating things in a civics class (for example), in an organized, structured way.... it just isn’t the place

So, then why did I say "not exactly"?

Because as a teacher, it is also our mission to make sure that no student feels bullied, belittled, or downtrodden. If what you are saying deals with an issue of civil rights, or sexual equality, and you are being a bully? If you make someone feel like their color, creed, religion, sexual orientation et cetera makes them less of a person?  Well, then it is my duty to say something. Gently. Civilly. With many questions to try to get the student to see an alternative point.   In those cases, you are going to hear it from me.... But that doesn't have to do with politics-- that has to do with human decency.


Point number two:
I am sick of all the political bashing on both ends. How are we not getting that we all have something to learn from each other? Why do we not understand that yet? Diversity and multi-culturalism are huge buzz words in education today, and with reason. Yet, we can't even begin to talk about those issues if we can't sit down and stop being so stubborn and polarized, frenzied with political fervor.

Furthermore-- if your child was taught by all liberals or all conservatives or whatever (in the classroom or not, and whether they knew it or not), you'd end up with an unbalanced child who wouldn't be a able to make up their own minds on what they believed. They should have access to many opinions without fear mongering or bashing other sides. The same goes for religion.

 Let's give them information, actual information, stripped of the pomp and the fear and the guilt and the propaganda. And then, let’s work on having them identify that bias and propaganda, and analyze the reasons for why people get so polarized and feel as strongly as they do.  Then, they know emotion and fear-mongering and bias when they see it, and instead of reacting emotionally themselves, can analyze. Think. Find some data to back up what they believe. Have a civil discourse.

Let's create thinkers. Logic-makers. People who don't just get brainwashed and follow the mob with pitchforks. No sheep, but leaping, independent frogs.

Let's give the kids a chance to decide what they want to believe and feel no fear of reprisals from family, friends or government. If you want to be a Republican and you've got all the facts, great. If you want to be an atheist with no political affiliation, great.

Let's just make it their choice-- not ours.

The Mommies & Daddies

I don't even know how many there are anymore. I did a count at some point and it was over two dozen. Every week or so, I feel like I'm hearing about another one.

My babies keep having babies. I know I shouldn't be shocked. I know, I know, I know. It isn't even that, it isn't shock. It is an overwhelming sense of sinking sadness. These kids wanted more for THEMSELVES, and yet, I couldn't even teach them sex ed. Nobody could. It was illegal. I had students who thought that if they peed or did some exercise after sex they couldn't get pregnant. "Miss J, like, if you don't love him, you won't get pregnant, right?" What?! Are you kidding? (Or are you Todd Akin?)

And now, so many are.

It hurts my heart. You need to understand-- I'm not judging the kids. They are good people. But they are so wayward, and it isn't their fault. Where the hell was the education system? Why couldn't we teach them about STDs and childbirth? Why couldn't we disarm the myths? Why couldn't we just tell them the   TRUTH so they could at least make an EDUCATED DECISION?

Where the hell were the parents? Why the hell after THEY THEMSELVES had kids so young, allowed their daughters to do the same thing? It isn't like they don't want better lives for their kids-- they do! Or many of them wouldn't have come to this country. I know they care. So, why? And when you bring religion into it, it gets even muddier. So many of my kids. Catholic, Catholic, Catholic. Gotta keep the baby you know. Abortion? Unheard of. A sin! A black mark across your soul forever. But let's ignore the whole part in the bible about sex before marriage being a sin. That doesn't factor in.

I can't untangle all of my emotions. I'm heartbroken, I'm pissed, I'm deeply sad. Some of my smartest, brightest kids.

Yeah I know. It is POSSIBLE to be an amazing single parent. It is POSSIBLE to have a career and go to college and be successful. But in that neighborhood.... how LIKELY is it? Let's not look at possibilities for a second. Let's look at the damn track record. Let's look at what actually happens. Let's look at the vicious cycle that continues over and over and over.

I don't want my brilliant, creative, wonderful kids to be doomed to a life of poverty. I know I'm ranting. I just don't know what else to do.

Oh, shit. What have I gotten myself into now?

So, over the summer while I try to figure out my life, I'm teaching at the museum of nature and science. It's a great place to work-- I have week-long classes, a different teaching partner every week, and fantastic volunteering teens who help out. Love the teens. But then there are the kids.

When I'm given 4-6th graders (for a dissecting class, for example), I am in teacher-heaven. So much help, extra pairs of eyes, and super engaging material PLUS kids whose brains I understand. They generally sign up for the classes, so are excited by the prospect of cutting open a starfish/dogfish shark/giant pair of sheep lungs and so on. 4-6th graders? I can rock that.

But, give me 2-3rd graders and I stare at them like they are aliens. My persona must completely change. My management strategies must completely change. They are so wiggly and I don't understand....... So I must channel my best friend, and constantly chant to myself, "What would Shannon say? What would Shannon do? How would Shannon manipulate this child into goodness?" Why are they lying about EVERYTHING? Why are they making strange random noises as loud as they can while marching? Why must they touch me every. damn. second? And then I wonder about my capacity to ever be a mother.

This week, I have kindergarteners. 24 of them. Holy crap. They are not humans. Yep, they're pretty cute, and they loooove to learn, and they get infatuated by the funniest things. But, they are also little lamprey eels. The little suckers cling to you.

And I'm pretty sure somebody pooped today.

There was the ripe, putrid stench of poo coming from one table and I couldn't figure out which kid it was coming from. But there was definitely poopy pants in one quadrant. So, there we were, all together, in one small classroom, all day long, with Sir or Miss Poopypants.

This is not something you have to deal with in middle school. Yeah, kids have thrown up in a drunken fit, and have given me a lot of hell over the years. I can deal with someone giving me figurative shit. But literal shit? 

I am so not cut out for this....

Things you don't say when you teach middle schoolers...

You know you're NOT working with a middle school teacher when she says stuff like:

"Okay, can everyone grab their fuzzy balls?"

and

"I'll take it from behind."

I may have giggled. Both times.

Inner Marshmallow

Every morning, I can't get the kids out of my room. In Phoenix, kids weren't allowed into the building until their classes started, but here, they are stuck in the building. So, instead of hanging out in the commons, what do a ton of them decide to do every morning? Annoy me. With effortless enthusiasm.

Now, anyone who knows me at all knows that I am the antethesis of a morning person. I am a zombie. I make groaning noises.  I don't like loud noises or bright lights. I don't even turn my classroom lights on, but rely on the natural light pouring in from windows I can't blind. I once wrote a warm up labeled 1. 2. 4. and didn't realize it until a student pointed it out. I am a bad listener. Small motor skills don't work. I can't open a Gatorade bottle. It's just bad news bears all around.

Yeah, I know this makes me look like I have a hangover every morning, but that's not it. I just hate life in the morning. As a person who needs 9 hours of sleep to be happy, perpetually getting 6 is brutal. As a person who functions best late at night, having to be perky in the morning is impossible.

This morning, I was making my normal pig-foraging-for-truffles noises while trying to set up my day, while trying to listen to 10 teen conversations. They suddenly got loud and started talking over each other and I slumped over my desk.

"Arghhhhhh, you are harshing my mellow!" I said.

One student, who I shall call Tris, says: Guys! Quiet down. You are busting her marshmallow.
Me: No-- what I mean is--
Alanna: Ohh, I could bring you in a new marshmallow?
President: You want a marshmallow?
Me: I don't want a marshmallow. What I want is--
Tris: Her marshmallow is broken.
President: How do you break a marshmallow?

Me: ARGHHHHH!!!!!

Tris: I think it's an inner marshmallow.

Now, how do they know that beneath this rough exterior I am an INNER MARSHMALLOW? I am slipping.

My favorite kid.....

Evan, my Ethiopian kid is hilarious. He's super smart, takes all my crap exceedingly well, and often throws it back to me. 99.9% of the time, he knows where the line is. This makes him a fun student to have in class-- he helps me make the environment fun.

So, the other day, I wanted to thank him. So, between classes, I said....

Me: Evan, you are my faaaavorite kid..... to pick on.
Evan: What?! That's insulting.
Me: What?! I said you were my favorite kid!
Evan: No, you said I was--
Me: Did I or did I not say you were my favorite kid?
Evan: Yeah, but--
Me: So, how can you possibly be insulted by that?
Evan: You said to pick--- YOU'RE DOING IT RIGHT NOW!! ARGHHHH!!!!


Hahahahahahahaha!!!!

God, I'm a jerk.

Affection by way of Torment

Here's what I know: in order to manage teens, most of the time you've got to get them to laugh. So, if a kid is starting to really drive me bonkers, I am forced to get creative. 

In the middle of class one day, I was helping a student in the back of the room. From the far front corner, this hilarious student starts calling me. Miss J, Miss J! Hold on, Evan, I tell him. I'm with another kid. I'll be right there. He calls again. MISS J! So, of course, I hold my index finger up at him as if to say ONE MINUTE!

A second later he screams. My first name.

You have got to be kidding me.

The class went silent, all staring at me for a reaction. I slowly ninja-walked over to the side of the room and grabbed a bagged mink we'd dissected earlier in the year. Evan, as it turns out, is totally grossed out by the mink. I started walking toward him. "Excuse me? What did you just say?"

Evan's eyes got huge. "AWW GAWD NO!!! NOT THE MINK!" I accelerated, moving toward him faster and faster. Evan ran into the corner, mink still feet away.

"I'M SORRY! I WENT TOO FAR!! I WENT TOO FAR!!! AW GAWD! I'M SORRY! NEVER AGAIN!" Evan's body pressed against the corner of the room, hands held up defensively.

I nodded, and dropped the mink (still bagged) at his table. "I forgive you."

This is how I deal with kids. I chase them with a foam axe I got from Target for a dollar during breaks. If they're naughty, I might threaten them that they'll have to sit by the mink pile if they keep talking. (And if they're Evan, they'll probably end up there). I make a lot of over the top, ridiculous faces. This is nothing new. I've been acting like a child my whole life. The thing is-- most of the time it works, and the better you know your kids, the more likely you'll be able to come up with something that'll stop the behavior that's driving you nuts.


One kid, who I call Marvin the Martian (during the first week of school, he kept making noises like he was getting some sort of transmission from outer space), is a great singer. The problem? He. Never. Stops. It's so bad that after that last class leaves, whatever he was singing gets stuck in my head for hours. So, I have to reroute him.

Marvin: (Singing while doing warm up.)
Me: Marvin, you've got blue marker on your forehead. (I gesture to my eyebrow)
Marvin: What?? (starts rubbing eyebrow)
Me: No, up more. A little to the left. Oops! Went too far. Down a little.... theeeere you go.

Now Marvin is furiously rubbing at his face. But he is utterly, completely, silent. None of the other kids, by the way, are paying me any attention. That is, until I suddenly burst into childlike laughter, and start hopping up and down because my prank worked.

It dawns on Marvin that I was screwing with him the whole time, and he grins and shakes his head. Every time I do something like this to him, he just says in a professorial voice, "You're something else, Miss J. You're reallllly something else."

Indeed.


I know the only thing I should care about is test scores and achievement, but more often than not, its when I'm being a prankster that I get them on my team. These are some of the moments I'm going to miss.

Bomb Threats and Butt Scratches

I always miss the good stuff! And by good stuff, I mean Times when Crazy Shit Goes Down. Crazy shit makes for the best stories.

Yeah, hearing President say, "Miss J, you're my favorite teacher because you make us think deeper," is awesome. Hearing another student say, "Miss J, I wish I was in your class because you make your kids do the heavy lifting-- you don't just tell us what to think, and then make us practice it,"also rocks. Seeing them DESTROY their district benchmark test, with an overall average into the 80s? Loved celebrating their success. Having my kids come in when they know I'm not teaching because they just. need a dose. of therapy. Or Mama Bear Tough Love. They need to help me make a plan with them, because they know that just not eating is stupid, and not healthy. They need to learn how to communicate with their boyfriend, because just stomping off in a tantrum isn't working. They are furious because teachers punish and assume and don't listen, and they know that while I will sometimes AGREE with the teacher they're furious at, at least I will hear them out first. And then talk about how they can get their respect back. All of this is great and I love it all.

But, Toto, we are not in Phoenix anymore.

At my old school, you couldn't HELP but be right in the thick of it. But here? Where was I when the weird little white kid chased around two other kids with his pocketknife? Where was I when one of my favorite co-workers TACKLED a kid, who was frothing at the mouth, red with fury? Where was I when a kid was cuffed by the police and taken away after joking about planting a bomb in the student union? How come I haven't caught ANY kids making out like bandits in the bathrooms?

How come my lovable disaster, (let's call her Desiree), doesn't slather Vicks Vapor Rrub all over her face and neck, and then have serious trouble because it's making her eyes water, and she can't see anything..... in MY CLASS? How come she doesn't scoot on the floor like a dog with wormy butt problems .... IN MY CLASS? How come she doesn't rip off her shoe, throw her foot on the table, and start digging in her toenails.... in my class?

 I mean, I know what I'm asking is terrible. But, I could use a few more great stories before I say "See ya later, teaching!"

Parts of an Atom

Me: TNT, do you remember the parts of an atom from last year? TNT: YEAH! Its, uh.... the protonnnnn, the neutron and the..... MEGATRON!

Stressed Again

It is Sunday night and once again- I have a stomach ache. I am stressed out and The last thing I want to do is go back to that place. Under the thumb of a tyrant is no place for me. I just keep thinking about my kids. The second I see them, I will feel better. But now, instead of looking forward to next year, I am counting down the days until I can leave. I just have to hold on.

Job Searching Again

Well, I'm job searching again. We'll see where I end up this time.

We'd had a meeting in which the principal told us explicitly that she wanted us to be courageous and tell her exactly what was going wrong with the school so that when we are built out completely next year, we don't have the same problems. We then talked about happiness, and what it would look like for our students, and how to get there. In a small group, one teacher raised the question-- how do WE become happy first? We can't just scamper around in a field of daisies and fake happiness. But we need to feel it, not play-act it.

The teacher had a point. So I compiled a list of things that make me happy as a professional. Flexibility, feedback that is specific for how I teach, streamlined procedures, executable interventions etc. And then, I talked about other large-scale problems that are leading to teacher unhappiness. She wasn't happy to hear it, but she did thank me for telling her. Someone had to say something.

When I left, I actually felt pretty good. I was thinking, you know, maybe she'll actually listen. Maybe some things will actually change around here. Maybe I will stay another year and loop with my kids. I love my kids.

But then she called me in yesterday, and the first thing she did was put me in my place. Our kids can't chew gum, so she told me it was inappropriate for staff members to chew gum. It was setting a bad example. It was one thing to drink coffee, because you know, it is just hard to give that up (I don't drink coffee), but gum? That was just setting a bad example. I'm sure I might as well be smoking a joint.

Okay, I thought. I see how this is going to go. You didn't take anything I said seriously, you were just offended. And now I'm getting retaliation because you can't own up to the fact that, well, you won't really look at the problem at hand.

So, then she told me that in fact, I isolate myself and don't talk to people, so how could I know what others were thinking/feeling? She insinuated that all the negativity I talked about was from my own head, and that if other people did feel like this, it was because I planted that seed. In fact, I do talk to people. I just don't go to big, whole-staff events. I prefer to do my bonding in small groups rather than large ones. But I do check in with other teachers and talk quite often.

And then she told me that the reason other teachers are having such a struggle in their classrooms is because I let all the other teachers play bad-cop, and am the cool teacher that all the kids like. Yes, that's right. Because I don't give as many detentions, or catch as many dress code infractions, or sign up many mandatory study-hall kids..... that classroom management in other classes is suffering.

I'm sorry. My kids, for the most part, actually DO their homework, because I grade it every single day. So, they don't need study hall. And if they do, they come to tutoring instead because they seriously need my help. And I'm not a teacher who lets bad behavior slide. You are accountable for your actions. But, I'm not going to give you a detention for every little thing. Then, you're right, it does become punitive, and then it becomes a vicious spiral. You have to pick your battles and give them a little bit of wiggle room. I didn't say this.

I just sat and listened while she told me that if those of us who are the "cool teachers" actually start following the rules, and other teachers are still having these problems, well, then we can talk about changing the structures. But until then? Well, we are making life difficult for everyone else.

So, I talked with the teachers. Like I always do. And guess what? It isn't me or my relationships with the kids that is making them miserable. It's the damn structures. Because they don't. work. And they've been asking for help since October, and nothing's changed.

But according to my principal, the structures DO work. And she's "absolutely" given those struggling teachers everything they needed to be successful. All the support. Even though when a student shoves a teachers arm and walks into the classroom, nothing happens. Even though they refuse to change schedules to separate problematic clumps of kids. They just put teachers on improvement plans.

And they work? Why? Because we had a year of success? Because our kids can take standardized tests? Okay. Yes, you're right. They are good test takers. But you know what they can't do? Think. They have been taught to regurgitate facts that have been drilled into their heads. But they can't really analyze, they can't think outside the box, they can't apply their knowledge.

This school is shiny, shiny garbage. When someone comes in, it looks so amazing. The kids sit up straight and hold their hands high in the air. They follow the speaker with their heads like a cat chasing a laser pointer. And they're miserable, overworked, stressed out, and tired.

There are a handful of things I really like. My colleagues, my kids, our morning meetings and the small group of students that are "ours." Block scheduling. The beautiful building. But when everything else is broken, none of that matters. And now, once more, my heart hurts. I have to leave kids I love.

Handled.

"I will go to that school, and I don't care. I will cuss these teachers out. I will cuss your teacher out. If that little smart mouth English teacher gives me more attitude about my daughter not being able to pull up her grade, she's going to get a slap across her face. I'm not like my sister-- she's cool. She's collected. No, I will go and make a donkey out of myself. You won't be able to hold me back.

I got kicked out of the last school. They banned me permanently. The police had to haul me away. But I don't care. Nobody's helping my baby. She's falling through the cracks and nobody's helping her. I get no phone calls. You all got $2 million from Oprah. What are you doing with that money? You have to hire more teachers. You have to get some teachers in there who care. I thought this was supposed to be a good school. That's why I sent her there. It was supposed to be a good school, but she's failing everything. Fuck the computers, I know you guys are trying to go paperless, but fuck that. I need a book to help my child."


That's an excerpt from a parent conversation I just had. It lasted over an hour. And by the end, I had her thanking me, and telling me not to worry because the two of us? We were going to work it out.

And yet, my own principal doesn't trust me to send out an e-mail to the staff without checking it first to make sure that it's positively framed. You know, I might be too honest, too real.

You know what? Real works.

Real is what makes me a rockstar.

Things you should not ask your grandmother for 500

Imagine a class of 18 spectacular human beings. The boys use their brain breaks to play tag and still love Spiderman. The girls work hard, support each other, and are incredibly mature. Overall, they're a group of kids that are still, well, kids. They work hard, laugh often, and ask great questions. Sometimes, however, these questions start off innocent, and then spiral wildly out of control. But, this is middle school, and this shit just happens.

While the kids were cutting up some papers, and one of my super smart, uber-mature, girls who I shall refer to as Kelsey, suddenly said....

"Miss J, what's a dildo?

Oh sweet Jesus.

But without a beat, the conversation took off. Racehorses out of the gates, Pandora's box overflowing. It couldn't be stopped.

Smidgen: Oh, I know what that is.
Pixel: Wait, you don't know what PMS is, but you know what a.... you know... is? That's screwed up.
Kelsey: What is it?!?!
Me: You know... let's maybe not say that word out loud.
Pixel: You should just tell her. All the girls are daring each other to scream it at school. Besides, it's better you tell her than she look it up on google at school. That's what Jeni did.

Seriously?

Once again....welcome to middle school!

Bolus!

I love talking about the digestive system. Today, while reviewing, I asked "So, who remembers what the squishy mass of food is called?" A couple kids raised their hands. "You know, when your teeth grind it up, and your saliva breaks it down, and then you swallow it?"

Another kid asked "So, like when it's in your throat?"

I nodded. Then, with great vigor and enthusiasm, a great child I call President raised his hand with an audible "OOOH!" You could just see the light bulb going off.

"President, go!" I said.

"BALLS!" he cried.

The entire class silently stared at me. Held their collective breath. Terrible comebacks shot through my brain like fireworks. I sure hope you don't swallow balls. You keep balls in your throat? Grinding your balls with your teeth is probably not the best plan, but the flexibility is impressive. Oh my god. I could not say any of these things. The words, prisoners, trapped just behind my teeth, fighting to get out.

So, I did what any good teacher would do. I cracked up.

The class melted and President put his head in his hands. "That's not what I meant...."

"Would you like to try that again, Prez?"

"Bolus," he said sadly. "I meant to say bolus. I was just a few letters off...."

I made the class practice the word, and they all erupted into giggles again. Then, while diagramming the digestive system, we decided to draw the bolus sliding down the esophagus.

"Can I draw it as a circle?" one kid asked.
"Just don't draw it as TWO!" another replied.

Indeed. Please do not draw it as two.

Utopia

So here's the good:
The kids are great. They treat me well, and I don't have much in the way of management problems. They all have computers so I don't have a lot of paper-printing to do. They almost always have their materials-- I don't have to worry about kids not having a pencil or paper. The teachers aren't gossipy or mean. I get along with all of them. None of them are idiots. The building and facilities are beautiful. I feel safe when I'm there. I don't worry about kids getting prego or selling pot in the bathroom or packing weapons in their pants. More parents are active but respectful.


And here's....well, I'll let you judge.
1. They didn't think the state standards were good enough. So, instead of taking them, adding a few standards and upping rigor.... They ordered a series of textbooks and went page by page. Creating the standards. From a textbook.

2. They also created their own benchmark assessments. Instead of people in the district office doing it, or hiring an outside company. So, all of the teachers have the exact tests that the kids will be taking. So, many teachers show the kids the EXACT pictures or questions from the tests (sans answers), and have them analyze them/teach them the tricky questions BEFORE taking the test. And then they pat themselves on the back when the kids do well.

3. Kids can't talk in the hallways. Kids can't talk when they transition between classes. Kids can't sit with their friends at lunch. If a kid misses something small like a belt, they are given an automatic detention. Ditto for talking in the halls. Ditto for gum chewing or any form of food. (Yes, I know. Crack down on the small, and you crack down on the large. Broken windows theory. I get it. But at some point, isn't it all just a little too much? I mean, they are MIDDLE SCHOOLERS). There are no second chances. Unless you're one of the few naughties. Then, you get millions of chances and your "suspension" consists of you sitting in the teacher workroom and eating all of our snacks, and having happy-happy-daffodils-and-kittens talks about your rehabilitation.

4. Instead of calling parents whenever a kid is being a punkass in class, you have to tell the kid's adviser. Then, this person has to make all the calls, do all the meetings etc. So, if I have advisees who have no problems in my class, but problems in others, I have to do everything. And if I want to talk to a parent directly, I'm not supposed to.


5. The technology doesn't work. We run out of paper. Copy machines don't work. We can't get materials for the kids to do real science with, but we are told we can. And then we get a passive aggressive answer instead of a straight up no. And we can't raise money to get things with our kids.



Add to these, personal affronts.
I have been personally ridiculed when my group of girls didn't perform a skit as well as they "should have." Even though getting them to work TOGETHER was huge, and a bonding experience, that didn't matter. In front of everyone, myself and my girls were told that we weren't prepared, and that we were wasting everyone's time.

I have been told I shouldn't tease my kids, because the kids don't understand the difference between playful teasing and bullying, and that my behavior creates bullies.

I have been told that I can't give nicknames, because it might hurt a kid's feelings. And what happens if they don't like a nickname?

I have been told that, even though its clear that I'm not racist, that a stupid comment taken out of context belongs in my permanent file and that I need to write an essay on my choices.

I am told over and over again that my "presentations aren't everything" and that I should just be taking materials from other people (even if it sucks), because the lesson plans are more important than the materials, apparently. And lesson plans? Due way before we teach. So, then I write them, then don't follow them because things just CHANGE, then have to rewrite them.


You know those movies where there's this beautiful town, and a new family moves in? They look at the perfect grass and houses and sunny skies and though everything looks SO perfect.... but something just feels off? There's some little detail that one notices, but brushes off like-- why are there no birds here? Oh, never mind. And then, when they're all settled in, all hell breaks looks and they realize they are actually in the seventh circle?

Yep.

Welcome to my world, little bluebirds.