How to Crush a Child's Spirit: 101

If the Learning Annex ever wants a class called, "How To Crush a Child's Spirit:101", most elementary school teachers would be qualified to teach the class. Not so much because the teachers are squelching their little spirits (though I'm certain it happens unintentionally, more often than we realize), but because we constantly police the little buttheads that say mean things to other kids.

Yesterday at my elementary school we had our Holiday Sing-Along where all the kids pack into the cafeteria and sing songs. The day before the event, a boy in my class slipped a note in my mailbox to ask if he could bring his reindeer hat to school. I told him that he could wear it to the Sing-Along.

The next day he brought his reindeer antler hat with bells to school. When we walked single file down the school hallway, he proudly wore the antlers. A few minutes after we sat down he came to me, no antlers, and said that a girl in our class told him that the hat looked stupid. I felt the heat inside my belly move to my heart and begin fuming out of the top of my head. I was so mad, fightin' mad! But there's just no reasonable justification for beating up a 9-year-old girl when you're 44. So instead, I marched right over to her and said, "Did you say something unkind to James about his hat?" To which she mumbled, "I told him it looked good."

"Really?" I quipped.

Staring at me with wide eyes, she nodded.

"Well, we will sort this out later and I really hope you are being truthful."

I told James that I spoke to the girl and that he should wear the hat because it was FANTASTIC. He shook his head and never put it back on for the rest of the day.

Even though the girl later mumbled the obligatory under-the-breath "sorry" to him, I keep thinking about how James will probably never wear a festive holiday hat again because that mean little girl said something that just ate away a piece of his spirit.

We've all had moments like that, it's just so hard to watch it happen. Mine was when I was about 9 years old also. The prettiest and most popular girl in our church choir turned to me after a rehearsal and said that I sounded awful. I stopped singing in front of people for about 5 or 6 years after that. I was traumatized. Then I got the fever of 70's and 80's rock and I was back in business, despite the opinion of that nasty little church girl.

Kids can be so cruel. I wonder where they learn it?

Reasons Not to Teach First Grade

I never really needed convincing to NOT teach Kindergarten or First Grade. Just thinking about training them to wipe their own noses has always been enough for me to quickly choose an intermediate grade level.

The other night I had the pleasure of spending some time with previous colleagues that now teach K and 1st. After our conversation I can concisely lay out for you the Three Most Important Reasons to NOT Teach Kinder or 1st Grade:

3. Urine
2. Feces
1. Vomit

I know it sounds extreme to mention these unmentionables, but it must be done. For these three reasons ALONE, teachers should be paid better. Many teachers have swapped stories about kids having "accidents" where they pee their pants. But then...Jess told the story about when she was teaching 1st grade in Guatemala and one day a student said he felt sick. She encouraged him to wait until snack time to see if he would feel better, but he didn't. At snack time, she reminded him to eat his apple. Shortly after the apple, as she was starting a lesson, the same boy complained again about his stomach. By now she was starting to feel convinced that he might really be sick.

Just as she started to say, "Maybe you should go to the office and...", he had a projectile vomit - all over her. Of course she had no change of clothes at school, and of course, she rode the bus to her school everyday because she didn't have her own transport. It was a long day that day.

My pal Antonio told the story of the little boy that disrupted the whole class to alert everyone of his need to use the restroom. Luckily many of the Kinder classrooms have a bathroom adjacent to the room, so off went the little guy to do his business, until suddenly the dreaded, "I need help wiping" voice calls from beyond the door.

"You've got to be kidding!" (Antonio managed to keep this in his thought bubble.)

Painfully and reluctantly, out come the rubber gloves with a snap, snap, over each wrist. The rest? Well, I'll leave that to your imagination.

I think the boy's family got a call or note asking (pleading, begging) that they COMPLETELY potty train their son immediately.

Again, teachers are not paid enough for this kinda crap*. If you aren't going to pay these K/1 teachers more, then at least provide them with a hazardous waste suit/uniform. It would certainly make the job more appealing to me.

(*pun intended)

The End of the World...(and I feel fine)

The kids at school are all talking about the rumor that the world is coming to an end in 2012. I'm not worried because this job has me SO ready to sleep for a really long time. But then yesterday morning a kid walked into my class mumbling, "I don't want the world to end." I decided to ignore his comment, because after all, who am I to reassure him that it won't? I really don't know. And I refuse to be one of those adults that lie to children to make themselves feel better, or to avoid deep thought.

I did talk to my class about the origin of the rumor, but that was some fact-based information (totally within my jurisdiction) about the Mayan calendar...blah, blah. Personally, I don't worry about this kind of crap. It reminds me of the "Y2K scare". Some people were really freaked out. Then....dun dun dun...(-insert ominous sounding music here-), nothing happened. What's that you say? That's right, N-O-T-H-I-N-G happened. I got a laugh out of that, I'll admit.

I had to search to re-find one of my all-time favorite reasons for the internet. A few years ago someone sent me this animation called End of the World and I laughed over it for months, and showed it to all my friends. Unfortunately, some of those friends and I are not as close because if they didn't laugh at this I had to wonder why I was friends with them in the first place. My pal Shmange and I had a few good laughs over it. So, click on the link (underlined "End of the World" above) and enjoy, I hope (Parental Discretion Advised for Strong Language, Reg). And if you don't get it, WTF, mate?

8 Minutes

8 Minutes. My pal Jenny-Mac figured out that this is how much time the teachers at our school have to plan each lesson we teach for a day of elementary school. (On average I teach 6 lessons a day.) But I don't take 8 minutes, I do what it takes, which is much more than 8 minutes. What that means, however, is that I regularly work 10-11 hour days. I get paid for 7 hours. I don't get bonuses or comp time, or even a free cup of coffee in the morning. Why do I do it? I want the students to have the best I can possibly offer...and I really like working with kids. They are crazy.

Recently I got a cryptic hand-written note in my classroom mailbox from a kid. It looked kind of like this (wishing I had a scanner!):

"Thre was a flyd in th pllens"

When I first read this scrawl from the 8-year-old I thought it said, "There was a fly on the lens". I figured he was explaining why most of my students were distracted at the end of the day when their homework was listed on the overhead projector (thus the "lens" part). I showed this note to my colleague Donna, knowing that her 40 years of teaching experience makes her a master code-breaker. I knew that she could confirm or refute my attempt at decoding. I handed her the note and, without missing a beat she said, "Oh...there was a flood in the Philippines".

Yes, that was it! Turns out the boy has family in the Philippines and wanted to make sure I knew about the recent flood there.

The best part about this kid is that he always has a smile on his face and is an easy target for my juvenile antics in the classroom. And to top it off, just the other day I realized who he reminds me of. Seriously. He is Bill from the series "King of the Hill"! (but without the beer in his hand and the hair on his chest, I presume) He has similar mannerisms, speech patterns, and a general "happy-go-lucky" demeanor.

Sometimes, when I'm having a rough time of it, I just look at "Bill" and remember that it's all gonna work out fine.

After all, I've only got 8 minutes per lesson to save the world (even though that's twice what Madonna and Justin had).

Back in the Saddle Again

From the soundtrack of my life: "I’m back!" Back to teaching 4th grade, that is. I’m happy. I had to go through an awful lot in order to come full circle, bringing me back to March, where this whole thing started. It went something like this:

you're fired
no, maybe not
um…yes, you're fired
stay tuned, we may need you back
no, it doesn’t look like you’ll be back
ok, come back and choose a job, but your old job doesn’t exist
no, you can't have that job
oh, okay, you can have that job
hey, how about having your old job back?
ok, you can have it

But, hey now, I’ve got a job which is more than some people can claim nowadays. So I AM thankful. I actually wish I could just call everyone I know to tell then that I got my job back. But herein lies the problem. No one picks up a damn phone anymore. I can’t get anyone on the phone, not even my spouse. I have reluctantly agreed to text more often, but am I the only one that finds it exhausting? I have a keyboard on my phone for this very purpose, but when I’m trying to make plans with someone and we have to go back and forth five or six times, I can’t help but think, “This would be a 30 second phone conversation.”

Is it about being cool? I’m all for being cool. I was born cool. But texting is so Europe 2005. I mean EVERYBODY texts now, so it’s no longer a novelty. When a 10-year-old is doing it, it’s no longer cool. Driving a tricked out car can still be cool, precisely because a 10 year old can’t do it. My pal Jenny had a student that was texting in class all year long! This girl was assigned hundreds of sentences to write, recesses were taken away, but she still continued. When her phone was confiscated by the principal, her mom got her a new one, so it was back to texting. I had this girl the previous year, before the text explosion, and she used to daydream the days away. She was probably thinking about what she would text if she could. But I’ll tell you one thing, she still does not have a car.

I’ve come to the frightening realization that if I want my friends to know the good news about my job I have to: 1) post it on Facebook; 2) blog about it here; 3) ask someone to Twitter it for me (I’m not there yet); and 4) do a mass e-mail as a back-up; …but don’t call anyone for heavens sake!

So now that I have my teaching job back, I was thinking about more innovative ways to fire/hire teachers, and suddenly I got an idea. How about a game show for teachers? Winners stay, losers go. Since it's my idea, I think I would want to have a show like "Name That Tune" or a Karaoke competition. If you don't know the lyrics then a clown comes out and smashes a pie in your face. (The clown would be a different celebrity guest star each week. See pic for guest #1!) Then Governor Arnold would come on the giant screen via satellite and say, "You are the weakest link. You are OUT!" Then he'd blow you a kiss and say, "auf Wiedersehen", like Heidi Klum on Project Runway.

With this scenario there would at least be some bit of talent needed to stay in the profession. I know you're thinking, "Hey Sal, why not a quiz show since teachers are supposed to know stuff?" Simple: that's too easy of a solution. I'm trying to stay in the spirit of the public school system by keeping things aloof and illogical. Geeeez. Stay with me. (Is this the first blog of mine that you've read?) The music would be sounds of the 70’s and 80’s, with a little 90’s tossed in for bonus points.

The premiere show would start with me singing Aerosmith’s “Back in the Saddle”.
...I'm back! I'm back in the saddle again...

Cattle Call

Well, I got a job back in my school district, back at my school in fact. But it's not MY job. My job has disappeared with the idealist belief that small children should be in classrooms of (no more than) 20 students. Call me crazy for buying into the idea of smaller class sizes ("CRAZY!"). But this crazy fool thinks that packing 30-34 kids in a room to teach them how to read, with ONE teacher, mind you, is a bit insane. But that's the plan in my district as of now.

So about 2 weeks ago I got a phone call saying I am being "recalled" (like those painted toys from China) and I would need to pick a job from the current list of vacancies. They sent me the job list ahead of time to take a look. There is nothing currently available at my school so I made my list of priorities from the choices and talked to some colleagues to get advice. The day I showed up to "pick a job" was the most DMV-like experience I've had as a teacher. There were about 10-15 of us lined up in a tiny dingy hallway in our district office. The lady would call a name and that person would disappear into a room, then emerge with one of three looks: sadness, defeat, or apathy. Some people were a little teary-eyed too. Then the lady would cross off the job the person picked, but not announce what they picked, so we would all squeeze down the hall to try and see what job was taken. Then the next person would go in, and so on, and so on.

By the time I got my turn, all my top choices were gone. SURPRISE! But I did have one thing up my sleeve. Like a Svengali, I walked in, sat down and ordered, "I will take the Science position at my school." The woman was caught off guard and began to shuffle papers as I stated, "It's not on the vacancy list, but it is there, my friend, it is there. I have been informed by my principal, [name dropped here], to ask for this position." I was feeling pretty good about myself, proud that I had taken this bull by the horns and for once thrown THEM for a loop. As she nervously shuffled papers, the other woman at the table (we'll call her the witness, because I learned in business that whenever you have a potentially volatile situation, you never do it one-on-one), began to look me over. I could see the questions in her eyes: Was I for real? Who did I think I was, marching in here with my OWN agenda?

The paper shuffler looked at me, and said, "We have to wait until that job is posted. You will need to pick a job from the list." Ah, but I had one other thing up my sleeve so I responded, "My principal, [name dropped here again], is downstairs in the training and said to come get her if there was a problem." HA! I can play hardball too. Without wavering, her eyes checked with the witness, and showing no sign of fear, she said, "We can have that conversation later, but for now, please pick a job to secure a position, so we can keep this moving." I was out of tricks, no hypnotic trance or amount of charm would change the fact that I really had zero power in this situation. The irony is that she really had no power either. She couldn't just give me a job because I said so. Her boss would probably behead her for such insubordination, or send her to the basement and take away her Swingline stapler.

The people with the power were on vacation during this project of theirs. How convenient. Hardly a coincidence I imagine. Make a mess, then leave someone else to clean it up. But hey, that's bureaucracy in action.

I chose a job, then promptly told on her to my principal. She marched herself to the cattle call office and fixed it. I felt like such a helpless child. I miss the days of getting a job on your merits and desire, not because you were #129 on the list so you got to choose before #140. I miss the days of being promoted or given a raise because you are an asset to the company, not because you have a certain # of years of service.

So I am on board to teach Science at my school. Good News: No need to switch schools, I know the students and staff, and change will keep me growing.

Bad News: 2 days after I was called in, our previous science teacher was "recalled" too. I didn't expect that because I thought he was much lower in seniority and might not get called at all. Now I have his job. I feel crappy about that. So it's hard to celebrate. I just hope it somehow miraculously all goes back to the way it was. Anyone have a magic wand I can borrow?

Happy Father's Day

I don't understand Father's Day or Mother's Day or Administrative Assistant's Day (formerly known as "Secretary's Day") or Day of the Teacher. (I don't know why it's not called "Teacher's Day".) This idea of choosing one day to say thanks and fatten the wallets of Hallmark always seems a bit strange to me. Heck, every day is Teacher's Day and Father's Day and Mother's and Admin. Asst.'s, etc.

Yes, it's lame to say, "We need to appreciate all people everyday!", but you know what? We need to appreciate the people in our lives REGULARLY. After recently losing my job, I thought about all my colleagues in education that I appreciate. I try to be thankful for what I've got, but I don't think I express it very readily to the people that need to hear it. So here goes:
Jenny - you're the first to pop in my mind right now because you especially need to know what a powerhouse of a teacher you are and how I admire that! You also have a great ability to laugh at life and...laminate. Andrea - and to think I was intimidated by you when I first started working with you! Actually, there was good reason for that. You have your act together. And I KNOW this because you always say that you don't. You are always willing to lend others a hand and are an extremely thoughtful human being. Kathy H. - what a pleasure and privilege I have to come to work and have positivity first thing in the morning. Your kind, yet playful, words and your love for the children are never lost on me. Thank you for the work that you do. Mel T- we have been weathering the recent storm together, checking in with one another. I appreciate your confidence and your ability to "press on" even when the system gets ludicrous. I also like how you roll your eyes at the crazy playground DRAMA! Helen - my mentor and an inspiration to all. I can't write anything here that will encompass who you are. You just are. I will SO miss your classroom visits if I'm not back with you next year. You'll have to call me, wherever I am, and I'll put you on speakerphone! Greg - Mister Comic Relief with some sarcasm and fire mixed in. I worry about how often you say what I'm thinking. Your plethora of random trivia at lunch and your waving of the white slips after recess are unmatched! Chris - um, how much time do you have in a day? Wow, the things you do with your class! You have a wonderful sense of calm mixed with a great sense of humor. And, of course, Donna - where would I be without you? You have orchestrated a great teaching career for me so far! Ever since you got me to LE, you have been a great ally and presented opportunities that I may have ignored in the past. Thank you for your help and guidance. I appreciate you.

I appreciate so many of you: Eric, Kathy G., Pam, David, Leslie, Kim W., and frankly everyone at LE. I'm sorry for anyone that I didn't mention or write sentences about. It was getting so long! But let me tell you, I have sentences for all of you. Oh boy, do I have sentences. I might be moving on to other "pastures", equally full of cow patties and land mines, but I promise to keep fighting the good fight, as long as you do too!

Oh yeah, and "Happy Father's Day".

I Want to Be a Pirate

I'm weighing my career options and I think I want to be a pirate. Pirates get to say cool things like "argh" and "savvy". They also get to sail around the world. They get to drink anytime they want because (as the saying goes), "it's always 12:00 somewhere". (Though they probably don't care about that.) Pirates are obsessed with booty. Pirates have also been glamorized with the success of the Pirates of the Caribbean movies. (And what's NOT cool about Johnny Depp?) Plus, I always loved the Pirates of the Caribbean ride at Disneyland. Piracy is also big in music, and I love my music. And look how much fun these pirates are having when they come together with music in this cool video called "You Are a Pirate" from the Icelandic children's show Lazy Town.

The only snafu is that there are NO job listings on Career Builder, Monster, or even Craigslist for pirates.

I know pirates got a bad rap recently with their kidnapping shenanigans off the Somali coast. But come on, they're pirates. Honestly, what did we all expect? I'd be a pretty nice pirate. I don't think I'd be into the kidnapping, killing, slave trade, or even the parrot thing. I'd have to have a sidekick that carries the parrot around. I think the sidekick would have to be a subordinate because pirates seem to be big on power structure and hierarchy.

I should probably grow my hair out and let it get all ratty. Then I'll probably have to wear one of those fake beard and mustaches, but it's tricky because to be believable it has to match your hair color. My hair gets lighter in the summer, especially if I'm going to be out on the open ocean, so I'll probably need to get a few seasonal hair colors for the stache/beard combo. I could wear the big hoop earring and the eye patch and I could get one of those long coats. Prince wore a hoop earring AND a coat like that in his movie Purple Rain and it looked cool on him. I wanna look cool too. In fact, Prince's whole outfit had a kind of "piratey" look. The poofy shirt, long coat, etc. Perhaps he wanted to be a pirate too, before he hit it big in the music business. Anybody know where I could get a suit like that? Wow, I'm gonna need to buy lots of stuff. Oh well, this shopping excursion sounds much more fun than going down to Banana Republic at the mall to get work clothes for some crappy corporate job. Wish me luck on my shopping spree! wheeeeeeeeee!

The Agony and the Ecstasy

The beginning of June is both jubilant and painful when you're a teacher. Here's the jubilation part: summer is coming! more free time, sleeping in, time for focusing on staying healthy and relaxing. The painful part: the final rush of grading papers, report cards, updating every student's file, organizing, filing, and cleaning your classroom. To top that off, I've been dealt the final pink slip. Oh sure, they can rescind at any time. But that's the problem..."at any time". I head into summer vacation not knowing if I will have a job in August.

Ironically, I got an invitation to lead some trainings over the summer. I said, "Sure, I'll do it, but I'm officially NOT an employee after June 30, so..."

I'm trying not to sweat it - trying not to feel like it's personal. I know, logically that it's got nothing to do with me. Funny. It OUGHT to! It ought to have everything to do with me. This job bases most everything on your seniority. You have to do something pretty awful to actually get fired from teaching. They can't just get rid of you because you're a bad teacher. Because of tenure, it's much more complicated than that. Well, I have tenure, and I'm a damn good teacher, but my neck is still strategically placed on the chopping block.

If I go out, I wanna go out with guns blazing.(see picture) I don't exactly know what that would mean, though. I just love the end scene of "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid". Unfortunately I don't have a place to play that scene out. As a teacher, I have to maintain the upstanding citizen facade...so, I can't scream obscenities when they take my classroom key or trash the district office on my way out of town. But, I could run down the hallway with staplers blazin' in each hand. Hmmm...I'll let you know how it all plays out.

I Wanna Rock 'N' Roll All Night

Whitesnake, Slayer, Stryker, Warrant, Great White, Ratt. These were the 80's "B" hair bands. There were also the "A" listers with bands like Poison, Scorpions, Def Leppard. I consider these A list because the general public knows who they are and they had more hits. Now I know I'll probably get some avid Whitesnake fan arguing about their ranking in my list, but come on...just look at the picture! Then there are some bands I don't count in this list because they still have gigs and huge followings (Bon Jovi, Motley Crue, Guns n Roses, Van Halen, etc.)

I can't always remember who sang what, or what some of them sang at all. But with anthems like "Cherry Pie" and "Here I Go Again", they cannot be forgotten. A few weeks ago while cruising beautiful San Diego, we were doing the ol' search-for-a- station-in-the-rental-car, when - BAM! The radio blares, "...here i go again on my own. Goin' down the only road i've ever known...like a drifter I was born to walk alone..." Sweet, sweet music to our ears.

Now for the best part. I was searching online for these lyrics (I wanted to quote correctly), and instead of the word drifter, there was the word "hobo" with an asterisk *. I scrolled down to find this nugget: "* in the 1987 version this word is changed to drifter. David's [David Coverdale, lead singer of Whitesnake] management thought that hobo could be confused with homo!" Oh no, because the make-up, spandex, and frizzed out prom hair wouldn't make us think that already.

Then there was the quintisential band, KISS. When I was in junior high, my friends and I loved KISS. but we also did that thing where you had to pick your favorite one. Mine ended up being Peter Criss. (For those that shamefully don't know, he was the cat/drummer.) I don't even know why I chose him. I think because he wrote "Beth" so I knew he was deep, ya know, deep in a 7th grade kinda way. That summer, we all went to summer school and took this class where we made these leather wrist bands. I made one that said KISS. Well, I used the stamper to make the KI on a piece of leather, and then I had to hand carve the SS, KISS style. Kind of like a lightening bolt. Anyway, I wore that thing for a year and thought it was so cool. One day I just stopped wearing the wrist band and my KISS era was over. It was well before they took their make-up off. I always thought they should of stayed "Masked" because they are not good looking guys, but with the make-up, there was an air of genius. But, things started to spiral after that. And years later, Gene Simmons did a mortifying interview on NPR with Terry Gross. He's a real a-hole.

Even though I shed my KISS fan days, one year, some co-workers and I decided to be KISS for Halloween. Adrienne insisted on being Peter Criss, so I took the next best thing...Paul Stanley. I don't remember if Anita was Ace or Gene, because she "forgot" to dress up on the day, but we had a blast shopping for the shoes and catsuits on Haight St. in SF, and Anita outfitted us with some great studded belts and wrist bands from her private collection. Peter and Paul were a hit at work that Halloween. (Pictured L-R: Supergirl, Johnny Cash, Ghost of Western Post, Paul Stanley, Ace Frehley)

So whenever I talk about music with my class at school, those dang 10 year olds never seem to be educated about music from the 80s. Sometimes I'll play a song and make them guess the artist. This game is not very fun because after their two guesses of The Beatles and Elvis, the game is over. Clearly, they just think I'm old and that's the only "old" music they know. Finally, now, I have my class trained into also guessing Prince and Michael Jackson. That's something. But if any kid ever busts out with Whitesnake, even if it's not right, they're winning the grand prize.

Regret #1

Joining Facebook.

In a weak moment last night, I joined Facebook. What the hell was I thinking? I'll tell you. I blame Miriam. Yes, YOU, Miriam. I had received a few invitations from various people to join Facebook, but for some reason, when I saw her invite, I thought to myself, "Hmmm, I wonder what she's up to?" I hadn't heard from her in months. I figured I'd sign on, snoop around a bit, and then promptly get off the site - unseen and unheard. But BEWARE, oh Facebook newbies, because you can't just look at people's "profiles"/pages unless they let you, so you HAVE to alert people to your existence in order to look at anything. Herein lies the regret. Suddenly it was like being plopped in the center of the Pacific Ocean with no life raft. I was drowning in information and people. Too many people! But, it's like being at a party with cardboard cutouts. Everyone is there, but not really. Then I started seeing pictures of people that brought back so many memories, and not all good. Some things are better left in the past. But last night, suddenly, there were the people, the memories, AGH!@#)$(%

I'm sure there are people that see me on FB now and are terrified that I might "friend" them. (This means you send them a note to ask to be on their friend list. Then they either say "yes" or hell no.) It's bizarre. It's strange.

OK, so now I'm going to look at the damn FB glass as half-full. As it turns out, there IS an up side. I did find a few people that I haven't talked to in a long time and really WANT to talk to them. Though, officially we haven't talked. And if you are an avid reader of this blog, you know how I feel about the lack of human and/or voice contact in this digital/computer age. (Blog archive 12/31/08 "All of Us These Days") Needless to say, the possibility of a conversation is on the horizon, now that we've found each other. (Oooh, I feel the lyrics to a pop song coming on.)

Well, FB is addictive. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. I thought I could resist, until the Grease trivia quiz. Then there was the Brady Bunch quiz too. This knowledge that I possess really is useless, except when a quiz is at hand. Stand back children of the 70s and 80s! I'll take you down.

I won't give up this blog, but I may go completely brain-dead and be unable to put two sentences together. Wish me luck.................

PS: Sorry I said the "d" word and the "h" word (2 times), Burch-Konda kids.

Pink Stinks

I got a pink slip this week. Tens of thousands of teachers all over California are getting them. Just because I got one doesn't necessarily mean I'm losing my job, but it's the "CYA" business. If your school district doesn't give you a pink slip but wants to lay you off, they are "SOL" if they didn't serve you. Soooo, they blanket their districts with pink slips. And this blanket ain't no cozy lil' hand made blanket either!

I'm sorta feeling all over the map about it. Part of me knows that there's a pretty good chance that I'll still have my job. The other part of me goes, "Screw it. The public school system is SO broken, and it keeps getting harder every year. Time to change careers again." But then I think about the kids. Agh, those little varmits that keep me coming back every day, year after year. They are the reason I'm here. And I'm just cocky and confident enough to know that if being a teacher is going to be an impossible task, it may as well be someone confident, like myself, doing the job. If I vacate, or if they vacate ME, my shoes might be "filled" by some less-competent individual. I may as well stick it out.

The last angry rebellious part of me says, "You don't want me? Really? Well it is YOUR loss, you fools. C-YA!"

I could easily justify a decision to leave because there's a whole host of crazy crap coming down next year. Larger class sizes, more curriculum to teach that's being pushed on the already overworked classroom teacher, fewer available resources for kids, and less money per student. Hmmm....makes me want to write President Obama a letter about the reality of NCLB and merit pay.

I'm tired, for sure. Tired of fighting the uphill battle. But then I go to school and see these kids in crisis, some of them in serious crisis, and I remember why I'm fighting. !Si se puede, pero necesitamos ayuda!

Rock Bottom

I want to be in shape. I think I would make a great "in shape person". Often times people mistake me for an "in shape person" because I am not visibly overweight. I can hide my beer belly and that's really all that is visibly overweight about me. But the problem is, as much as I want to be one of these healthy "in-shape people", I just don't have the dedication to sacrifice what it takes. This hit me, like a train, as I was having beer and bacon this morning. Yes, beer and bacon. I was meeting some people about joining a softball team and I decided I should have a beer. After all, it was just after 12 noon. I signed up for the team alright, but I will admit that I have lots of fear around my level of fitness. The first woman I met was on a team that went to the World Series last year. I don't even know exactly what that means, but it sure sounds serious. The last time I played on a softball team is was mostly about what was in the cooler at each game. So today, as we were finishing up the discussion and paying the fee, I realized that i need to get in shape. It's not so much about needing to lose weight as it is about getting fit. I need to build muscle and work those muscles that I'll need to play baseball/softball. All this was going through my head, as I was drinking a beer to accompany their brunches. I was picturing myself eating more healthy meals, pumping weights at the gym and having an overall mindset of a healthy lifestyle. Shortly thereafter the other women left, leaving me at the table sipping my beer. I noticed that one of them had left her bacon on her plate. Now let me back up and tell you that bacon is one of my all time favorite smells. AND, bacon can taste mighty good as well. SO, here I am staring at a plate of bacon strips. What choice do I have? It's practically blasphemous to leave it there. The pig already died to give us this bacon and I couldn't bear the thought of leaving it for the trash (or compost at best). So I ate it. I sat there, by myself, drinking a beer and eating bacon. This my friends, is MY rock bottom. I'm in training as of tomorrow! Though I DO have brunch plans at a place that probably makes killer Bloody Marys, so I guess training can start tomorrow afternoon. I'll keep you posted.

This has nothing to do with teaching

This entry is not about teaching, it's about smoking. Let me start by saying I'm not a cigarette smoker. I have smoked some cigarettes in my shady past, but I always thought it was gross. I hated the way it made my fingers and clothes smell, and the WORST part was the taste in my mouth the next morning. So, I am aware that I am no friend to the cigarette. My biggest beef is the litter. Why have so many smokers decided that cigarette butts are acceptable litter? Next time you're out on a stroll, notice all the butts, and the cigarettes too. (I couldn't resist.) Anyway, I constantly see smokers tossing their cigs on the ground. Many times it's a hand out the window of a car to drop the remains to the pavement, or someone on a leisurely stroll around the lake with apparently no place else to drop their rubbish, but good ol' planet Earth.

And what's the deal with smokers that hold their cig out the window while they drive? What that tells me is that they can't even stand the smell in their own car! Instead the smoke wafts back and in through my open window or vent. Then, when they've sufficiently poisoned both of our lungs, they toss the butt outside. Again, probably because they don't even want the smell in their car's trash.

ick! ick! ick!

When you travel out of California you realize what babies we have become about smoking. In other states, people are still smoking in restaurants. I love the ridiculousness of the restaurant hostess/host's question, "Smoking or Non-Smoking?". As if the air will maintain an imaginary border and the smoker's air will respectfully stay clear of the non-smoker's air. Bars are another place where I know I'm a spoiled Californian. I actually do still remember the days of going out to clubs and, upon returning home, hanging my clothes up overnight to air out because they reeked of cigarette smoke.

I'm also such a spoiled, cranky baby about it that I can smell smoke a mile away! I get irritated when someone is walking down the street smoking in front of me. In line or in a crowd is another smoker's paradise that irks me.

The good news is, I'm not alone. As I was searching online for an image to go with this blog, I discovered there are tons of people with blogs and campaigns against cigarette litter. The beaches seem to be a big focus of many of these campaigns. My favorite campaign ad states, "Enough with all the butts on the beach.", and has a great photo to go with it. It's put together by an eco-organization SEWS (surfers against sewage) in Britain. Gotta love those Brits. I almost posted the picture for this blog, but was worried what Jacob, Josh, and Jessica might think!

Then I also found a site where someone is working for a Responsible Smokers Act and is advocating for more public ashtrays. That way we can at least encourage the litter bugs to dispose of the remains responsibly.

I hope I haven't offended my smoker friends. YOU have always been respectful of non-smokers and you put your butts in the garbage. (My good bud in Palm Springs goes above and beyond to respect my lungs when I'm with her, and she NEVER drops her butts on the ground.) I love you all, cigs or no cigs. And I hope, after this official tirade on trash, you still love me.

Gettin' The Job Done

In my old career, you couldn't just shirk your job respon-sibilities. In other words, you couldn't be a screw-up at work. But there are some companies that just seem to tolerate inefficiency. Take AT&T for example. Every time...and I mean EVERY TIME...I call about a charge or I need to change/add services, the job never gets done. I always have to call back again and sometimes again AND again to rehash the story, each time to someone new. Then the wait time of a few days (or a few weeks) to see if things were done correctly before I make the next call. Maybe these companies oughta instate a mid-day napping time - just to give the old noggins a little freshening up.

As a teacher, you really can't screw up. You can't even be late to work. There are 33 children lined up outside the door every morning and I have to be there. I also can't completely BS my way through the day. Imagine standing in front of a group of 10-year-olds to teach the American Revolution followed by the formula for the area of a triangle, but you've done ZERO research on either of those things. You wouldn't last long. (Yes, there are bad teachers, but that's a different story.)

But then I wonder if certain businesses encourage ineptitude. There are alot of people that don't do their jobs at AT&T but they continue to have jobs there. And if you saw the movie "Sicko" you know that some of the "Health Care" providers and HMOs would reward workers for denying claims because it saved the company money. I swear, when I call these places, I'm sure they are playing Solitaire or Whack a Mole while I relay the very sad story about my needs. Then when I finish my rant, they give me that crappy canned response, "I'm very sorry ma'am, let me see if I can help you." Blah, blah. I just know they hold the phone away from their ears while I'm talking.

Then there's the state legislators. They are supposed to have a budget by now, but they're still working on it while we all fret and suffer the consequences. This botched decision-making process is beginning to take its toll as lack of funding causes schools to brace themselves for layoffs, increased class sizes, and fewer support programs. Isn't it the legislator's JOB to do this budget thing?!?!!! Why is it always such a big surprise every year. So much of this is just poor management and people that suck at their jobs. So we don't know if education will have a budget or not. We might get absolutely nuthin'. Hmmmm. My dear friend, Helen, says that eventually we are going back to a stick and a sandbox to teach.

We'll still get the job done. Wax on, wax off.