Week 41: June 22-26

Day 186: 090626
Another story in need of an ending: NR. I can’t explain how I feel about NR because I can’t nail it down. But I can say that we have an understanding. Not an understanding in the sense of an all-but-explicit deal, but an understanding in the sense of some deeper, weirder connection that evades description. There is no earthly reason for our getting each other, but we do. Anyway, about a week before the end of school, she just stopped coming. Last Monday, the last day of classes, she came in to say goodbye. Turns out she had spent the previous week in family court and the judge took custody away from her mother. Then she and her siblings were adopted—or put into foster care?—with a family in Connecticut. She seemed quite calm, perhaps bittersweet, about it. She was in the building because her new guardian was trying to arrange for her to take the Regents and RCTs even though she had been discharged from the school. I explained to her that she didn’t need them because she was in Connecticut and not New York anymore. She then said Connecticut was part of New York, and I was reminded of why knowing geography is actually important in the real world. We said goodbye. And I truly wish her the best in her new life.

The last day of school is truly horrendous. For the first hour, we sat in a big line outside with our third period attendance folders and handed report cards out to our kids. I sat next to Ms. H, who is moving to Saratoga Springs over the summer. Ms. H was instrumental in getting me this job back when I started the Teaching Fellows program. I spent the summer before I started as a full-time teacher as her student-teacher in summer school. I was glad to have a chance to say goodbye.

I then spent a good portion of the day hanging out in Ms. Po’s room with Mr. K and, intermittently, Mr. L. For a spell, we also had Ms. T crocheting on the windowsill and fuming about her overall U for the year. She received a U, or unsatisfactory, on the sole basis of her unsatisfactory attendance. Come to find out none of us particularly likes her or respects her, so it was a little awkward when she was looking for our compassion and we were mostly annoyed. We walked to a deli around the corner for lunch, mostly just to get out of the building, and she was gone by the time we came back. Ms. Po and I have reconciled, in that quiet way that happens when you see someone everyday and there’s more you have in common than there is dividing you.

At the end of the day, we picked up our summer pay stubs, signed the attendance, and walked out. I carried my lawn chair out of the building, over the footbridge, and bungeed it into the trunk. And so ended the year.

Day 185: 090625
I carpooled to graduation with Mr. B and Ms. M. On the car ride to Lehman we shared our conspiracy theories about the administration. Everyone in the school has his or her own version of the corruption that must plague our school. Because how else can you explain what happens around here? Our theories on this particular morning focused on the excessing and unexcessing that tore the school up over the past couple weeks.

My particularly far-fetched theory revolves around money—I know: shocker. There’s a deal on with the DOE that any schools that hire ATRs (Absent Teacher Reserves, if you will recall) will only have to pay that ATR the base salary for teachers and the central DOE will pick up the rest of the teacher’s salary. I like to think the administration excessed us so that they could hire us back at a cheaper salary, letting central take the hit of our master’s degrees and years in the system. This is pretty far fetched, but I like to think it could work.

Ms. M was particularly excited to share her conspiracy theory. She thinks the administration excessed everyone really early in order to smoke out the teachers who knew they weren’t going to come back next year but weren’t going to say anything until the absolute last day. In other words, the administration used me, Ms. L, Mr. B and at least eleven other teachers as tools to gather information. As Ms. M pointed out, it makes sense that teachers would wait until the last minute to say they’re leaving for another school because Principal N has functionally alienated her entire teaching staff (which she knows, by the way, see Day 104 for her awkward conversation with Ms. L). So how does the principal solve that problem? By alienating more of her staff by excessing them and then hiring every single one of them back a few weeks later.

I’d write about graduation, but it was remarkable only for the degree to which it was unremarkable. We had to sit on the stage but at least we got to go home directly after the event.

On a matter only tangentially related to the blog, Michael Jackson died today. There aren’t many commonalities between me and my students, culturally speaking, but Michael Jackson was one. Anytime I put “Thriller” on in the room, a half-dozen kids would ask me to leave it on or put it back on when the lesson was over. I think the tragedy of his death is bothering me more than is rational because of the tragedy I see writ large over every school day.

Day 184: 090624
On my way into the building this morning I ran into AR. In the end, AR came through with a passing grade. At the end of first semester, AR had a 60%—a grade neither failing nor passing. If AR earned a 55% at the end of this semester, that 60% would become a 55% and he would fail both semesters. But because he got a 65% this semester, that 60% became a 65% and he passed both semesters. I explained all this to AR—again—and he was quite happy. Then doubly so to hear that I was coming back next year. Then sad to hear Ms. L was most definitely not.

I proctored the US History RCT to a bunch of my kids. BR, AR, CP, RQ, DS, TT, LJS: the kiddies were all there. And it was a read-aloud room, which is kind of the most boring thing ever in the world. And I could see the kids bubbling in the wrong answers as they took the test; the United States is not a constitutional monarchy, people!

At the end of the session, after all the other kids had finished, I was left alone with CP again. He was desperately thinking in order to write those essays. The only difference between the test and our average Monday afternoon together was that I could say no to spelling words for him. And then Ms. B came in to relieve me. God bless her.

The highlight of my day was giving out end of the year gifts (bought because I thought I was never coming back). I got five of these jingling weeble-like thingies on the grounds that the best gift for people you work with is something stupid and whimsical and safe for children 18 months and older. With the exception of Dean B, who I believe was overwhelmed and confused and embarrassed by my gesture, everyone loved them. Ms. M, AP A, Ms. EV and Ms. Po were quite delighted with their prezzies. AP A couldn’t believe that the lucky number that came with her Wish Come True was in actuality her lucky number: five. She and Ms. EV had smiles breaking their faces as they wobbled the little guys all over the counter and listened to their chimes. Never underestimate the power of whimsy.

Day 183: 090623
And I thought there was nothing to do yesterday. Today was endless. I can’t remember the last time I was so bored. I spent a couple minutes poking around the school to discover if we have a literary journal. Because I’m me, now that I no longer have Mercy to deal with I’m looking for something else to fill my time. If the school doesn’t have a literary journal and has any bit of money left in the budget for next year, I’m hoping I can fill that void. And get paid for it, too. After the brief interlude of productivity in the service of the school, I watched Mr. P and Ms. Po throw leftover gak across the room at each other. Imagine filling eight hours with those two stories and you pretty much get an idea of my day.

KC: another story in need of an ending. If you’re a meticulous reader, you probably noticed that KC was a major fixture of this blog in its early days and then disappeared almost entirely. That’s what happened in reality. Second semester, KC was barely in the classroom. On the days he was, I loved him. He was sweet, did the work and mostly kept his mouth shut. As though he was another person. Ms. L and I were discussing it before she left (sob). Her hypothesis is that he was teased for being “Mexican” a little too much. The anti-Mexican sentiment is worthy of remark. I don’t pretend to understand the racial dynamics in the Bronx aside from the broad strokes—Dominicans are not the same as Puerto Ricans and one should never compare the two—but the derisive sneer that accompanies “Mexican” every time it is uttered is disconcerting. I certainly should have done more to pursue the problem, but KC is the cliche: he fell through the cracks.

Day 182: 090622
I didn’t have to report to work this morning until eleven. So I made myself some French toast and took a relaxing bath before heading to work. I was still almost a half hour early. I spent about an hour listening to Child 44 on my iPod and packing up what remained of my room. I left the Word Wall for last. It is one of my favorite parts of the room, reminds me that words are one of the reasons I teach. You know, a reason that doesn’t throw gum across the room or call me his “nigga.” Then I ate lunch and spent a couple hours reading Born Confused, a selection from my classroom library.

Then I read the internet and did some writing for another hour. As I was sitting at the computer, a tiny little mouse snuck out from the radiator and wandered around but a few feet away from me. It’s not like I was being that quiet; the keyboard at my school computer is very clackety-clack. But the silence pervading the seventh floor must have been enough to convince the little guy that all was safe. Sadly, my camera was across the room and by the time I walked over to get the mouse had slipped back under the radiator.

Mr. L and I spent some time shooting the shit, waiting for 4:45 when we were set to proctor. Fortunately for both of us, all the kids in our test room were finished with their tests by the time our shift came around. Mr. B was in the same boat. We wandered into AP A’s office and asked if we could leave early, seeing as there were no kids left to proctor to. She said yes, as long as we signed a whole boatload of IEPs. Super-illegal! Mr. B and I signed them all, though, because once you’re chest-deep in the shit it seems a little silly to get prissy about another inch of it.
___

New pictures all over the place: Day 163, Day 168, Day 169, Day 173 and Day 175.

Week 40: June 15-19

Day 181: 090619
I arrived at school a couple hours early this morning in order to finish grading the kids’ finals. As I was waiting for the elevator, I ran into Principal N. She pulled me aside and told me I was safe for next year—just as AP A told me a couple mornings ago. She touched my face and told me not to interview anymore. A tad Corleone, but comforting, too. You know, comforting the way the abusive husband is after he beats the shit out of you.

To further increase my feelings of sappy, stupid sentimentality, the last two questions on the final this year were “What was the best part of English this year? Why?” and “What was the worst part of English this year? Why?” I ask these questions to give the kids some gimme points and to give them a chance to voice off, but also to make myself feel like I have accomplished something in addition to tearing apart my own will to live. It’s much easier to like the kids when they say nice things about you and you don’t have to see them again. A selection of their remarks (edited only slightly, for grammar’s sake):

LMS: My fave part of English is you, Ms. G. You’re funny, nice and I know some of these kids are a pain in a butt, but they can’t help themselves.

RQ: P.S. I’m sorry about ever bad thing I did to you.

DG: My favorite part of my English year was the poetry slam. We had to go up and read in front of a lot of people. I was nervous at first, but I got use to it.

AR: When we play Jeopardy and look at Ms. G dance.

GO: My favorite part of English this year was to get in it all Done with. I hold some days. Ms. G you are the best and you’re so kool. I will miss you.

JK: My favorite part was the vocabulary. Why? because it was mad easy.

KCh: The best part of English was when I turned into an English fan. I hated English so much, but Ms. G turned me around. That was the best part of the class.

AB: My favorite part of English this year was that I got the help that I need for English. I came into special ed at the middle of the year and found the work to be just right for me. Not too bad and not too easy. I really liked the poetry slam too most from the year.

AM: My favorite part was when I passed my class. If it wasn’t for Ms. G, I wouldn’t pass. I would be going to summer schooling. But i went up to her and talk to her and she give me some stuff to do and pass. Just want to say thanks for the help, Ms. G.

DD: Flight vs invisibility because that was a very good kind of battle to come up with.

CG: My favorite part of English was when we would play those games and go against teams. Also when we would watch movies and answer questions. My other favorite part is when you would tell us something nobody knows.

I’ve received no word from the schools I interviewed at this week. My best guess is I’ll be returning here next year. So I packed my room up, filling my teacher closet and some lockers in the back of the room instead of filling up boxes and hauling them out.

Day 180: 090618
It was Ms. L’s last day here. Tomorrow she flies to Greece for the summer, and when she returns to New York City she will return to a middle school opening up in Harlem. Much like saying goodbye to the kids, it was anticlimactic. Also sad. I can’t even predict what it will be like next year without seeing her every day, as she has been such an integral part of my daily existence for the past two years. Don’t tell Ms. L, but I cried a little in the elevator after I left her in the room where she was proctoring.

Day 179: 090617
On my way into school this morning I saw DJe, a student from last year whom I adore. DJe spent his first semester with me in my fifth period. I maybe once threw a book directly at him because he was sleeping and ignoring me in front of the others and he maybe still teases me about it, each time to my deep embarrassment and fear that I may end up in teacher jail because of this momentary indiscretion. Come second semester, he was in my eighth period and the only one who showed up. Most days DJe and I would blow through the lesson with about ten minutes to spare, then we would sit around shooting the shit, waiting for the bell to ring so we could go home. DJe’s backstory is just as devastating as JC’s or GA’s, but he is proof that fucked up backstory doesn’t mean you grow up fucked up. DJe is growing up sweet, responsible and kind of goofy. We said goodbye on the sidewalk in the rainy morning.

Then AP A called me into her office to say I’ve been unexcessed. Huh.

I proctored the first session of the English Language Arts Regents examination this morning. Session 1 includes the listening passage, and my wards were ELL (English Language Learner) students, which means I had to read the passage out loud three times instead of just two. I’d like to say that halfway through the first time I was a little bored with Therapy Dogs (I read it so many times I memorized the website address). Also, the room was goddamn freezing cold. I had kids sitting in front of me physically shivering. Nothing can be done about this, however, so I advised them all to wear pants and sweatshirts tomorrow. I will not be wearing a skirt again as I, too, was shivering in the chill.

During my afternoon as “relief” for proctoring teachers, I was assigned to the room where half of my kiddies were taking the Math RCT. FR was happy to see me and wanted to know if I’d be back next year. I guess if you’re that toxic of a person you have to gloss over the bad feelings caused when you piss people off or else you would have no one to talk to. MB and QF were thrilled to see me: “It’s so good to see you again.” Then they each said goodbye to me another two or three times, all awkward like. Meanwhile, in my room, Ms. L babysat Ms. Pe’s son, who really likes books.

I had an amazing interview at an academically rigorous middle school in the south Bronx for a general education 8th grade ELA position. I talked to the hiring committee for an hour, which I suspect has to be a good thing. I would love to leave here.

Day 178: 090616
And so Regents week begins in ernest. I proctored a test this morning to non-special-ed students. It’s weird. The test only lasts three hours, the kids weren’t scheduled to take more than one test at the same time, they didn’t get the questions read over and over again. All I had to do was take attendance, read the directions and write the time on the board every fifteen minutes. I got some good reading done.

I had my first interview for a new job today—at a school that teaches Latin to its seventh and eighth graders, no less. Gotta love New York City because principals can be thirty-something barrel-chested men with Lenny Kravitz dreds halfway down their backs who believe Latin is the avenue to better students. I think the interview was going pretty well until it was made clear to me that the job required me to teach all four core subjects and I—honestly—revealed that I know shit all about math and science. The principal proposed an arrangement whereby I would teach ELA and history to sixth and seventh grade and the current seventh grade teacher would teach math and science to both grades. A promising suggestion, seeing as how the above-mentioned Principal Kravitz would alter his teaching program to get me onto staff.

Day 177: 090615
My official last day of teaching at this school has passed. Nothing says anticlimactic like watching kids finish essays and answer multiple-choice questions knowing full well that you’ll see a lot of them again during Regents Week. I passed out the certificates and candy bars for my students of the year, which was satisfying. Last year I didn’t do certificates and I’m sad to think of all those kiddos who were robbed of something pretty to show their parents. Heaven knows the candy bars don’t last long enough for any kind of show and tell. LJS, in a turn of events that surprises no one but himself, was not a student of the year. LJS comes in to class somewhere between on time and two minutes late, never takes notes, needs to be reminded to focus on anything and chitchats with the lovely SA (a rare girl in these classrooms) on a regular basis—and failed every marking period so far—and he’s suprised he’s not student of the year. God bless his relentless optimism and tenuous grasp on reality.

I had a couple awkward goodbyes today, from kids who know I’m not coming back and don’t know how to conduct a social interaction. Both QF and MB said goodbye to me about three times in a minute, clearly hoping for something more than my also saying “goodbye. I’m not a hugger, though, so I hope they were satisfied with winning student of the year—for most diligent and best class participation, respectively.

I had students in my room solid from third period through on until 3:45, desperately working to finish both parts of their final. I actually called Ms. L at the end of the day to remind ES and BU to come back to my room to finish their tests. I could hear BU moan loudly in the background when she passed on my message. But they needed to do well to pass, so I stand by my one last effort at making their lives uncomfortable. When they finished, I had another couple awkward goodbyes to tend to. Then it was me and DD, alone in the classroom again, as he finished up his final. Somehow appropriate that I walked out the door with DD on my last day.

Week 39: June 8-12

090612: Day 176
Tests last year were awesome: the kids shut up and took them. This year, tests mean I have to work four times as hard to keep the lid on. There are two ways of looking at this. One: I’m not meeting the kids where they are, which is only being able to focus for five, maybe ten, minutes. Two: This is a baptism by fire, as they have to learn to take period-long tests now that they are in high school. High school. I take the latter view: I’m helping them man up for the rest of their school lives.

Today they wrote four-paragraph essays in response to one of three questions:

A. Is there too much violence on TV and in the movies? Why or why not? Give 2 reasons that support your answer.
B. Do the police and metal detectors make our school better or worse? Why? Give 2 reasons that support your answer.
C. Should people save sex for marriage? Why or why not? Give 2 reasons that support your answer.

After today, the multiple-choice portion on Monday will seem like a reward.

090611: Day 175
FR is in the SAVE room until the end of the year! And JC is suspended! Bitch, yeah. This means the other students in fourth period will actually be able to focus on their finals instead of the zoo that is the classroom.

Further information on the Dean-B-is-spreading-rumors front: I guess he’s been “spreading rumors” about how Ms. L’s new principal (who worked at our school just last year) and Principal N have bad blood. Is it still a rumor if it’s based in fact? Not that I actually know the facts, being the rumor-mongering bitch I am, but I’m assured of its probability based on what I’ve seen this year.

090610: Day 174
I’m pretty certain that FR said he would kill me if I kicked him out of the room again today. I don’t really think he will kill me—or anyone, ever—but I wrote it down because I’m out to get him. I am only human; kid makes my life miserable. So, he came up to my desk and read what I wrote. Then, standing but a foot away from me, said to my face, “Are you fucking stupid? You fucking stupid?” So I kicked him out. Dean B came for him and I was once left amazed at how Dean B has become one of the only people in the building I trust implicitly.

The drama surrounding Ms. L’s excessing and un-excessing continued today. Ms. L said she told AP A she was nervous about meeting with Principal N because she knew the principal yelled at Ms. RM last year when she resigned to go teach in Texas. So this information made it all around the building and ended with AP D ripping Dean B a new one for “spreading rumors,” Dean B being invited to an audience with the Principal herself and perhaps his receiving a letter in his file for “spreading rumors.” Of course, Ms. L and I heard from Ms. RM’s mouth how the principal yelled at her, so we’re a little uncertain about how Dean B was spreading rumors. But truth is not guiding force at our school.

090609: Day 173
Ms. L’s excessing was rescinded today. Ironically, Ms. L was planning on meeting with the principal today to say she had taken another position. But forget that Mr. B was hired before her. AP A told her not to touch the politics of the thing, presumably because they are a nasty piece of business. Ms. EV and AP A then ominously told Ms. L not to sign anything. This advice has had the effect of making Ms. L freak the fuck out. Neither of us can quite figure out what could happen to her—she has a new position—but this is also the school that broke the contract to un-excess her and wrote a letter accusing Ms. Po of making a false accusation when she did no such thing (see Day 161). Who knows what they could do?

In unrelated news, I had the most awesome Do Now today: the kids had to listen to two minutes of Radiolab that discussed a moral dilemma and apply that discussion to the morality of “Monsters, Inc.” The dilemma revolves around the idea of doing what is best for the individual or what is best for the group—and what to do when the two conflict. For the record, the Radiolab is hilarious and involves some pretty silly sound effects of a train killing lots of people. The kids loved it! Only fourth period wouldn’t shut up long enough for me to play the clip. It was so out of control—again—that I had both JC and FR removed. I am so over the bullshit. If only I could actually tell freshmen to drop out. It would certainly be better for the group if JC and FR never returned to the classroom. Of course, it would be pretty disastrous for them as individuals. But it’s hard not to think their lives are already disasters.

090608: Day 172
I’m showing “Monsters, Inc” today, tomorrow and Wednesday. We all need a break. It’s surprising how much less complicated “Monsters, Inc” is as compared to “The Incredibles.” That said, QF was extraordinarily excited to see the show; apparently it’s one of his favorites.

Seeing as how it’s the end of the year, I figure I should start ending some of the stories I started. LS, whom you may remember from that time she ran away but didn’t really (see Day 122), is no longer on roster. A couple weekends ago she was arrested in Brooklyn and since that time she has been back in a psychiatric institution.

I am sad to lose her. She was creative and literate. Her favorite subject was English. She completed all her homeworks with a high level of effort and proficiency and absolutely destroyed tests. Her short story, involving two girls fighting over a shoe stuck to the carpet with gum, was inspired and violent.

Sometimes kids are fucked up beyond your reckoning before you even meet them.

Week 38: June 1-5

090605: Day 171
I love computer lab days: I don’t need much of a lesson plan. And according to the kids, today was “cut day,” “national cut day” or, my favorite, “international cut day.” As a result, the longer the day went, the fewer the kids.

NR told me how sad and upsetting it was the Ms. L and I got excessed. She’s angry that it has to be the two teachers she likes the best that get let go first. I thanked her for telling me that. Despite her at-times toxic rudeness, I think she has a sweet heart. Part of me will miss her a lot.

Coming to school has become nigh-on impossible. I hated it here before, now it’s abhorrence. I have a couple leads on open positions from my teaching fellow colleagues. I would rather be working on my resume than watching kids type, but at least it’s not so challenging today.

090604: Day 170
Few things as hideous as the staff development day. I got to learn about how to write a good aim and facilitate effective group work. And then we got to do a scavenger hunt to build school spirit! I wasn’t really into building any sort of team spirit, seeing as how I’d been kicked off the team but two days prior. According to AP A, we only have 537 incoming freshman for the 2009-2010 school year. I think this school year we had around 1000. And five years ago, there were 200 incoming freshman in the special education department alone. I’m pretty certain the administration is trying to keep a school going that the city is trying to close. It looks like the city is winning.

I spent my lunch with Ms. B, Ms. L, Mr. B and Ms. M. We talked about the blog and how excited they—Mr. B and Ms. M in particular—get when they’re on it. So I’m putting them on it again. Hello!

During the afternoon meeting, the teachers of the year were awarded. Ms. L won for special education. I wrote many lovely things about her and expected that she would win. It was enough to make a person cry, seeing as how she’s been excessed, too. But I also feel like I’ve never worked so hard for so long with nothing to show for it. Last year, I was on the list for every official observation—as a first-year teacher—and got an apple-shaped tablet as a thank-you. This year I have absolutely busted ass and pretty much only had one nice meeting with the principal about it. It’s hard to not resent Ms. L at least a little (sorry if you’re reading this—it isn’t personal) as huge amounts of what we’ve accomplished this year have been because we worked together.

It all goes back to the horrible feeling I’ve had over and over this year that I might as well not be here. I stand in front of classrooms—seventh period, fifth period, fourth period last semester—and it’s like I’m not even in the room. As a house we ask for help from the principal and she cancels three meetings with us. I try my best to do something about the behavior problems in the classroom, and Ms. Po yells at me about it. I am excessed in a meeting where I am an afterthought, not even worth the time to hang up the phone or show up on time. I am the cellophane man.

090603: Day 169
Oh what a good mood I am in. I am just giddy to find a new teaching job. I don’t feel guilty about neglecting to tell potential employers that I may be leaving in a year because I have no other choice but to look for a new job. And maybe this time I can find a school that won’t kill me with purposeful inaction and scare tactics!

Periods one, three, four and five are in the computer lab today and Friday (Thursday is a staff development day), and they are so far doing awesome. No one fucked around too much, and they all actually worked on typing their narratives. I think it’s the rainy weather: keeps them chill and calm.

Then seventh period came in. Late as usual. MN accused me of being unfair because everyone else got to go to the computer lab and they didn’t. I explained that I had to cancel the Writing Workshop unit for seventh period because no one listened to me. NO ONE completed the assignments or listened to the lessons or wrote in class. And I pointed out that I begged and pleaded with them numerous times a couple weeks ago to try in class, all to no avail. It was definition of fair that they didn’t get to go to the computer lab. One day, MN will understand cause and effect. I won’t be around to see it, but I’m not so sad about that.

090602: Day 168
When I arrived at school this morning and began to grade the work in my homework basket, I noticed that my gradebooks were entirely gone. It was as if they had never been on my USB drive. All that grading I did yesterday is gone. My most recent backup was Thursday, so that’s not too bad. But it’s not too great, either.

And then I lost my teaching position. During fourth period, I received a hand-delivered memo from AP B asking me to meet her in her office at 12:25. As I was walking to her office, she was walking away. Of course. So, I sit in AP B’s office for about fifteen minutes, with Ms. LATR and Ms. L. We pretty much figured out we were all getting excessed, as we are all the junior members of our department. And Ms. LATR was already excessed once, so she knew the deal. Finally, AP B came back and our “meeting” began. When I say began, I mean I sat in her office looking at the letter on the desk with my name on it while she talked on the phone for about three more minutes. Three minutes is a very long time to wait to be excessed, particularly when you can see the letter with your name on it. I made the meeting as short as possible, beginning it myself by saying we pretty much figured the situation out while we had tons of time to sit there. (The manners of it all!) She told me it was the worst budget she’s ever seen in her career.

Before I go further, let me explain what it means to be excessed. The UFT is a mighty, mighty union. Though I have lost my position, I have not lost my job. Basically, my school doesn’t have enough students for the number of teachers it has, so I had to go—along with Ms. L, Mr. B and Ms. Bo from my department alone. So I have to find a new position in another school. Even if I do not find another position by September, I will report to my current school and be a full-time substitute, or an ATR, which I think means Absent Teacher Reserve. Or Available Teacher in Reserve. But I will still have a salary. It’s crazy.

This is both the final kick in the pants of one of the worst years of my life and the biggest blessing I’ve been given since the year began. It wasn’t a surprise, either. Ms. L and I have watched the administration’s furious struggle to keep attendance up this year with the understanding that they’re trying to hold onto their faculty as much as the kids themselves. But a failing school is a failing school.

Of course I had to go teach seventh period after being told I was no longer needed. And they were the assholes they always are. Except RQ. Small victory.

090601: Day 167
Ms. L threw me a bachelorette party on Saturday. I was still recovering this morning. AP A suggested that perhaps I am getting old if it takes me days to recover. I retorted that it had been a twelve hour party, and she understood where I was coming from.

Seeing as how I always bring my grading home over the weekend and never do it and I had house guests on the futon, I finished exactly no grading. This morning I put Jeff to work on the multiple-choice vocabulary quizzes (which he did even though he didn’t want to) and starting busting through the homeworks and writing assignments myself. Once I got my photocopying done at school, I sat in my classroom and continued grading, grading, grading! I managed to finish the grades in time to print out lists of missing assignments for the kiddies and write their current grades on top. Given that I show them their grades at least once every week or two (depends on the period and how often they ask me), it was shocking how many kids were surprised to see they are failing. Don’t they see the homework chart? How many stickers they don’t have? How many quizzes they fail?

SP was made of attitude when he saw his 30%. Poor kid. We sent a guidance email awhile back saying we thought he should be reevaluated because he cannot keep up with the classwork. Even when he is trying and paying full attention, he is struggling. So guidance scheduled a meeting during a period when none of us could attend and told the mom she should try to transfer him to a smaller school. That was frustrating. SP did not get into a smaller school and the reevaluation process was never started. So he will spend at least another year falling more and more behind. If he doesn’t drop out, it will be a miracle. Or because of football. But he can’t play football with failing grades. Yet another slow-burn tragedy in the making.

Ms. L and I met with RQ’s mom this afternoon to discuss his shit attitude and declining work ethic. I now realize she is actually his aunt, as she made reference to RQ’s mess-up father, her brother. Fortunately I already learned the lesson that just because they have the same last name does not mean they have a parent/offspring relationship. We shamed RQ pretty good, so hopefully he’ll shape up.

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Update: New film picture on Day 166.

Week 23: February 2-6

090206: Day 98
It is clear that the events of this school year are my school’s death throes. We are all, students and teachers, little lysosomes, oozing enzymes to digest the dying tissues. Too bad it’s all dying tissue.

Ms. W(itch) came into my room during eighth period and accused me of giving her only the behavior problems, implying I was out to fuck her over. I attempted to explain that the section we were dividing was only students with behavior problems (and not even all of them, at that)—and thus she got half the behavior problems while I kept the other half. She then told me that I was giving her all the students from my fourth period who made me drop the F-bomb. If she would have let me speak before getting in her last word and walking out, I could have told her that, in fact, none of the students in the section AP A asked me to split up were in my fourth period save one: BR. And, when asked which half of the section I wanted to keep, I chose to keep the half with BR. So, she would have had NONE of the students from my fourth period. I could also have explained that she is getting two A students and one solid B student in the bargain, while I think I was only taking one student who passed last semester. Too bad she thinks she knows more about what happens in my classes and about my students than I do.

Apparently, she’s going to go to the union about the matter. To which I say, ok—the only truth that will come out is the truth I attempted to tell her. AP A asked me on my way out if I would be willing to swap sections with Ms. W(itch), to prove that the split was fair. I agreed because the split was fair. As it is now, I’ve lost JR and MN—which breaks my heart—but I’ve also lost DT, which is awesome. If we reverse the sections, I’ll lose AR and BR—which will break my heart—but I’ll lose SC, which is awesome.

The worst part of splitting the section is what it’s doing to the kids. I spent a lot of eighth period with JR, who refused to go to Ms. Po’s class because he knows he’s going to be switched out of it starting Monday. What we are doing to these kids is the definition of shuffling problems around in order not to deal with them. And they know. JR told me he just wanted things to go back to the way they were. Even without the regrouping of our students, things can never go back to the way they were: Ms. Pe is gone. Ms. L and I are a hair’s breadth from being gone. The school is returning money left and right. And the system doesn’t care what it does to JR. Or MN, BR, JO or AR.

JR said he was going to tell his mother to send him back to Jamaica if they didn’t change his schedule back. I suggested that if that would be a better education for him, he should do it. He said it wouldn’t be better.

JR has nowhere to go. He’s fucked in the Bronx; he’d be fucked in Jamaica. He stood in my doorway, unable to stay and unable to leave.

090205: Day 97
Ahem, I kicked another two students out of seventh period today. DT and SC: screw those kids, they had to go. After they left, the period was much easier, and the relief of the remaining students was clear. It’s easier to be both ruthless and rewarding with the new section set up. With all the behavior problem students together, I feel less guilty having a couple removed because that action sends a clear example to the others and having any student buck authority in that class leads to their downward spiral. It’s also much easier to reward students. I can give rewards for the smallest good things—coming on time, paying attention to me and making eye contact, good group work—without having “good” students feel jilted because they aren’t rewarded every day for doing just those things.

Then I got a phone call eighth period from AP A and Principal N asking me to split that section in half. In order to save jobs, AP A wants to split up the behavior-problem section to create two sections. I see the benefit in this: the fewer of those kids you have together, the easier it will be to control them and thus for them to learn. Our problem in the house has been there are too many of them to separate with only five sections to work with. With the new plan, Ms. W(itch), who taught freshman last year and is known for her iron fist, will get half of my seventh period and I will keep the other half. Similarly, Ms. Po, Ms. L and Mr. P (new math teacher for the house) will have their behavior-problem sections split and given to other teachers in the department.

I made a list that splits the section as evenly as possible: equal numbers of LTAs in each section, kids I want to keep in each section, and a kid I want to get rid of in each section. I didn’t think I would get to choose which section to keep, so I wasn’t so into making it an uneven split.

Of course, the moment we start to get a handle on all the changes in the house, we have to make more. I don’t want to give away any of my students. Though I have power over them, I don’t have any such power when it comes to administration.

090204: Day 96
I’m teaching one of my favorite units now—yet another reason I would not like to be excessed—”Flight v. Invisibility.” In the course of the unit, students research movies, comics books, and TV shows to answer the question: Which superpower is better, flight or invisibility? The question engages nearly every student, the research sources are immediately captivating as they are all part of the fabric of our nation’s pop culture, and we get to write essays. Granted, perhaps it is only I who enjoy the essay part, but so what! This is also the second time I’ve taught this unit, so I feel organized and competent.

The assignment today had the students working in small groups to brainstorm the pros and cons of flight or invisibility. Seventh period today? Great! They were kind of crazy, but they did perhaps the best job on their brainstorming of any class. This fact isn’t surprising, as all the students in there are quite bright and very creative. This tracking thing could work—for all my students.

On an unrelated note, a story about DD and LF. The two of them like to loiter around the teacher elevator at the end of the day, hoping to catch a ride down. They tried to hitch a ride down today as Ms. Pe, Ms. L and I were walking out. We were talking about students—a conversation I wasn’t keen to stop—so I told them they could not ride down with us. DD literally stood in the doorway of the elevator, trying to force his way on, as we explained that he and LF could not ride with us. I can’t imagine we actually pushed DD, but perhaps we did, as they did not ride the elevator down. Why would I do favors for kids who come 25 minutes late to class?

090203: Day 95
First day of the new semester. We arranged to have our kids grouped in such a way as to put the high-functioning students together in one section and isolate the behavior problems in another. I suppose you could call this “tracking,” but tracking is such an ugly and political word. Of course, the whole situation with the freshman is ugly, so perhaps we should just call a spade a spade: we tracked the kids. And we did it because we had to do something to save both our own sanity as teachers and improve the educations of all our other students who care enough to shut up when asked.

The students in the behavior problems section figured shit out pretty quickly. They’re angry. Most of them said something like they couldn’t learn in this class with all the bad kids. Bad kids was their term, not mine. I have little to no sympathy for this. They can’t learn? Ironic they should be so sensitive to misbehavior when their own persistent misbehavior impeded the learning of countless students last semester. Not so much fun for them when the shoe is on the other foot. Ha ha!

I have the behavior-problem section seventh period (forget fourth, they’ve been largely disbanded and dispersed—seventh shall be my new Everest). Today—first day of class—I kicked out two students. Peace out, GA and JO. Turns out I have more power than you.

090202: Day 94
Professional Development seems to always leave me dissatisfied. My time could be better spent lesson planning. I did get to paint with watercolors and dance salsa, though. Before slugging my way through yet another pointless department meeting.

Normally, department meetings consist of our AP giving us the party line as to our responsibilities and the faculty complaining long and loud about something stupid—parking regulations, time-clock/time-card injustices, vagaries of school policy. The meeting today began as expected: AP A once again exhorting us to call homes, call homes, call homes for the students who were LTA (long-term absences). And to log the calls on Daedalus, a piece-of-crap software program that seems to be only good for logging phone calls.

Dean C, for the first time in my memory of special education bitch sessions, spoke out on the underlying issues, not just the bullshit. Dean C suggested that, as experience proves phone calls home do not bring the students back, the school should address the reasons why students do not want to come. Say, the lack of community in the school or the unwelcoming atmosphere. The department immediately remembered why Dean C inspires love in everyone he meets (and it’s not the fact that he’s gorgeous). AP A responded by saying we need to call home and log the calls on Daedalus.

Mr. K took up the standard and confronted AP A with the culture of fear and lack of transparency in the school: “Just the tone of your voice shows how afraid everyone is in this building.” I’m certainly afraid: my job is not secure. In fact, I spent my day worrying that I would be excessed, perhaps along with Ms. L. AP A responded by saying we need to call home and log the calls on Daedalus.

Our school is out of money. The teachers are so fed up they are actually talking about the real problems, which is not typical in the building. Many are planning on leaving at the end of the year. I’m waiting to see if we get word any time soon that our school is on the to-be-closed list.

Week 22: January 26-30

090130: Day 93
I made an offhand remark to my AP this morning about having time to sit down with Mr. P, the new math teacher for the house, because I need everyone to be going like gangbusters the second the spring semester starts. AP A looked right at me and said, somewhat loudly, “How did you know that? How did you know it was Mr. P? That hasn’t been announced yet.”

Oops.

I excused myself from naming my source, and AP A explained to me that Ms. Pe’s replacement has not been announced because the replacement has not been finalized. Interesting, though annoying. I really need to know who’s going to be working with us. We only have one shot at making this semester different than last, and I’m not so into fucking it up. Bureaucracy blows.

090129: Day 92
I proctored the Reading RCT this morning, which is to say I read the Reading RCT aloud, in its entirety. This would normally be the worst thing ever, but SR was there. SR graduated last year and was my BEST student. She works harder than most people I know, let alone students. God bless her, she’s taken the Reading RCT half a dozen times at least, without passing it. She came back, after graduating, to try again. Seeing her did my heart good.

Only 16 kids out of the hundred or more who took the test passed it. Hearing she failed (again) wasn’t surprising, but it was still heartbreaking.

090128: Day 91
We learned today that Ms. Pe is to be excessed. We learned this through the gossip underground, which is the only reliable source of information in the school. (That should tell you something.) Many things are said behind closed classroom doors.

It’s hard to be that upset by this information because I really believe the situation vis-a-vis our students cannot get worse. Of course, our students hate change even more than the average kid, so who knows what this kind of change will do to them.

When Mr. R, our kids’ music teacher, was excessed, MN told me the class was deliberately planning on making his replacement’s life miserable. I fear for what they will do to a new math teacher. And how that will bleed into all the other classrooms in their academic lives.

090127: Day 90
Few things are as lovely as Regents Week. With the exception of proctoring and grading a couple of exams, there isn’t a lot to be done.

This morning I watched “Pretty in Pink” and organized my paperwork.

My afternoon was spent grading finals, sitting on my heater, watching “Roswell” on Hulu.

I could hear the papers whispering against one another as I stacked and organized, the scratches of felt-tip marker on file folders, the clink of my keys hanging from my back pocket. The bliss of a student-free week.

090126: Day 89
Today I showed some fourteen-year-olds my awesome bowling prowess. For those of you who know me, you may find the former statement pretty funny, as I do not actually have any bowling prowess. But let me tell you, I gots more game than my students. I bowled an 86! Even had a couple spares and a couple strikes.

GW, however, was the real star of the show. She told me she wasn’t going to bowl, but I had already paid for her games. I made her bowl, because that’s my job. I can’t explain what she did, exactly. She would bring the ball back, swing, and let the ball literally fall onto the alley. She had no follow through. But the ball would slowly, slowly make its way down to the pins and knock at lest nine over almost every time. I have never seen anything like it.

We had lunch at McDonalds and played Two Truths and a Lie. It was quiet, awkward and sweet. The way 14-year-olds should be.

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Update: New film picture on Day 67.