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.