Just be cool, man.

I had a good run today at Lake Murray-- the first 5+ miler I've done in a few weeks. It felt really good to let the week go (and it's only Tuesday!). So, you might remember that earlier this year a student broke into my classroom and peed on my desk. If not, here's the link to that happy tale. The kid was never caught, but I thought that was the end of gross things being done to my classroom this year. Not so.

For the past few weeks someone has been spitting on my classroom door. The first time I noticed it, was on a Monday after a long weekend and a big storm, so I didn't really think much about it. But then I began to notice that every couple days there was more of this gross, spit-looking substance accumulating on the door. Yesterday the kid finally went for the big guns (just in case I wasn't getting the message I suppose) and spit partially-masticated food all over the door. Not. Cool.

So, a custodian had to clean it up (which I feel really bad about because the kid isn't trying to punish her) and I hung a sign on the door that reads, "Just be cool, man." Today the spit appeared again on the door while I had my 4th period class down at the library...so I think I've narrowed down the perp's time frame AND that it is most likely not one of my current students. I'm working on a theory that it's one of last year's disgruntled 9th graders. There were some seriously evil children in that class. I don't say that lightly... I've had some squirrely classes in the past (this year's class included) but none that were just outright evil and malicious like last year.

I'm trying not to get in my head about the whole thing. If there's one thing I've learned over the years as a high school teacher, it's that you can not try to rationalize teenage behavior-- they don't even know why they do the things they do. Plus half the time their own actions have to be explained to them because somehow they forget that they just stabbed Johnny in the leg with a mechanical pencil or tried to give Carlos a papercut on his ear... "What did I do?!" as if they're so surprised by their own actions.

I had a realization while I was running today: this was my first school-related, NEEDED-run of the year... and by year I mean 2012. Hey, not so bad. I almost made it a month.

So in conclusion. To wrap it up. My point, ladies and gentleman is. Sigh.
If you're out there making someone's life hell with snide remarks, or backhanded compliments, or small devious annoyances (like my spitter), whether you think it's justified or not I have only one thing to say to you...

Just be cool, man.
Just be cool.

What can I say...

...I've been out of the blogosphere for way too long this time. The last time I wrote a post it was hot and still light outside at 9pm. Now it's getting dark around 7. I smell chimney smoke during my evening runs. It's almost Halloween for crying out loud. I've let a whole season of running posts slip by. Ah well. I'm still here. Sort of. Kind of in a fog this semester: I'm teaching high school part-time so that I can teach a college writing course. And, therefore, not running as much as I should considering........

On Monday when I walked into my high school classroom, the sheriff was there. Someone had broke into my classroom--sort of--over the weekend. It wasn't technically "breaking in" because no breaking was needed. My classroom door was not shut properly after the janitorial staff left on Friday afternoon, so while the classroom door was locked, it was not shut all the way. Therefore, it opened easily when tugged on by some punk-ass teenager at approximately 6pm Friday evening.

He (and I know if was a he from the grainy security cam video) did not destroy my classroom, as you may be expecting me to say. No. He tipped over a few desks. Put one of them on top of another. No big deal there since could have destroyed my posters, computer, CD player, and all the anthologies... But he didn't. Nope. He just urinated all over my desk. And my desk chair.

I don't really know what to say about the situation. There's just so much that can be said. And at the same time, nothing to say.

And so I run. I run. I run. I run.

Found in Translation

I felt refreshed and clear of mind going into this first week back on campus. It could have been denial, or it could have been that I am reminded of my youth and the hopeful, nervous excitement that comes with a new school year. But, then I went to my first staff meeting yesterday (and another today) and was reminded of all the reasons why summer break is what keeps me in this profession...(even though I was told that if I ever felt that way I should stop teaching immediately...haha. yeah right like I'm giving up my summers now!?). I'm not going to go into it right now, but I am going to go to the gym later and try to work off some of my anger.

The other thing I'm going to do, is write the letter I wish I could send home to parents at the beginning of the school year. (The alternative is a venty, bitchy post about administrators and the terrible, terrible decisions being made that are veiled in "this is what's best for students" even though it's what's worst....ugh. I continue to be amazed by how little admin understands about students.) Anyway...

As I was revamping my course syllabi today, I was reminded of all my teacherly pet peeves that are soon to be ignited. I feel that if parents could learn how to interpret what their kids say about school at home, my pet peeves might be significantly, if not entirely, squashed.

So, this is to the all the parents out there:
When your child comes home and says the following, this is what he or she is really telling you...(note taking is encouraged here).

Scenario #1: The detention

Parent: I got a detention notice about you today. What's that about?
Student: I dunno. My teacher hates me.
Translation: I do know, I just don't want to admit to you that I was being an annoying attention monger today in class and refused to shut up when my teacher asked me to do so 80 times. I guess she got sick of asking me to behave properly and maturely and it probably has something to do with the fact that I've never been taught how to respect authority because look at how you let me talk to you, Bitch. That's right, I'm talking to you. Now go buy me a new video game.

Scenario #2: Truancy
Parent: I got a phone call from the attendance office at school today. They said you weren't in 6th period. Where were you?
Student: I was there. My teacher is dumb and prolly marked me absent.
Translation: We had a test today so I snuck off campus to get high and hangout at Burger King. And even though I promise you to ask my teacher about it tomorrow, I'm not going to because I just texted plans to get-it-on with Adrian from Bio class in the bathroom during 6th.

Scenario #3: Failing a Class
Parent: Why do you have an "F" in X Class?
Student: I dunno. My teacher hates me.
Translation: Mother, Father, it's a combination of issues here. But what it comes down to is I don't do my work because I don't do the reading at night because you're not checking up on me like you should. Furthermore, I don't ask for help from the teacher when I am confused because my classroom is overcrowded by about 20 kids and I don't want to look dumb in front of my peers, plus the new sweatshirt you bought me with the ipod adapter inside the hoodie strings makes it super easy for me to listen to music during class without the teacher noticing-- which only makes me more likely to not understand what is going on in class and in turn forget to write down the homework. Plus, how can I can get any work done when I have so many text messages to stay on top of?

Scenario #4: Mean Teacher
Parent: Why do you have a "U" in Citizenship in your X Class?
Student: Oh my gosh that teacher is soooooooo mean. He hates me.
Translation: I'm an obnoxious, disruptive, brat in that class and I hate him because he calls me out on my shit every day. I need to learn manners; please teach me how to speak to adults appropriately.


There are more scenarios, but I will save them for later because I have to get to the gym pronto. If you have a particular "teenage response" that you'd like translated for you, please submit it via email or the comment box below: I'd be more than happy to tell you what your teenager is really trying to say.

Year 6

This last school year took forrreeeever and it flew. This is the second year in which I taught seniors that I also had as freshman... and unless I change schools, it's going to keep happening from now on. I better get used to it. But, I really didn't think that A.) I'd be at the same school long enough to see this happen even one time--let alone twice now B.) I didn't think I'd still be living in San Diego this long and 3.) I mean C.) I didn't think I'd still be a teacher.

I've come to realize--this year especially--that all the things I thought I didn't like, I really do like. A lot.

A.) My school: with it's bumbling, spineless administration and incompetent, whiny counseling staff, with toilet paper fires in the boys' bathroom, super-glue in all the locks, black widows in the bathrooms, and the Ag. Department's sheep pens situated in such a way that when the wind blows just right it smells like the 5 freeway in Central California... and my "Coven" of supportive teacher-friends.

B.) San Diego: with the airplanes flying over my house and interrupting my thoughts or hulu viewing, with foggy mornings and sunny 75 degree summers, with the loud-ass green parrots and the tan, skinny-ass North County cougar moms with BMW SUVs and with its running paths and trails along every shoreline possible and the best f'ing seafood and Mexican restaurants on the planet.

C.) English Teacher: with the "spit out your gum," "yes you have to do this," "are you kidding me right now?" "this is good crap you're learning," "i'm totally blowing your mind, I can tell," "yeah, macbeth is pretty much a d-bag," "your essays are why i drink so much wine at night," and... "i'm really, really proud of what you guys did these last few weeks and I'm truly going to miss laughing with you every day."

Year 6. It was a good one.

Totally unrelated but related in every way possible: The following video is about the school dress code was created by teachers in North County at High Tech High School. My life's goal for the next school year to emulate this... (the video is really long and sort derails at the end. you'll get the point after the first 2 minutes.) My FAVORITE line is, "Caught wearing tights for pants."

Must be the time of year...

...the sunshine is making me lazy. School feels like it's never going to get out. And, I'm working on a blog piece for Voice of San Diego that will probably never make it to publication because I get into too many politics and name namingness. So, just in case it doesn't fly (or I have to water it down so much it won't mean a thing) here is what I want to say. Here are my thoughts as I reflect back upon the school year that was and the one that is to be.

Well, with little more than a month left of school, I’ve decided to take time and reflect back upon the school year. With state budget cuts, teacher protests, district negotiations, and a general low morale, it’s been a tough year for everyone. And in the words of our district Director of Curriculum, Robin Bellarin, “There will be dark days ahead for teachers.”

From what I understand, the Williams Act started as a lawsuit over the damage done to students’ backs caused by heavy backpacks. The goal of the lawsuit was to make it so that students had a copy of all oversized texts at home and at school, so that carrying these books back and forth would no longer be necessary. But, somewhere along the way the case took a turn for the complicated and somehow, not surprisingly, it is no longer about what is best for students. According to the law, now, all schools must teach the same books and curriculum—any and all books and curriculum that one school teaches, all other schools in the district must use or have access to as well. This seems reasonable enough at first, right? But this is what that will translate to in the classroom….

At my school in the Grossmont District, I teach Lord of the Flies at the senior level. When I teach this novel, my students are put into “tribes” and every day in class we have competitions that range from kinesthetic challenges relating to the previous night’s reading to in-depth literary analysis and interpretive performances of a scene. The tribes compete with one another a la “Survivor,” to be the last one standing. When I teach Hound of the Baskervilles, a Sherlock Holmes tale, I have an investigation simulation—since all the kids want to be forensic investigators like they see on CSI. And when I teach 1984… Big Brother runs the classroom and students have to “educate paroles” to form a “Brotherhood” all while trying find Big Brother and coordinate an overthrow.

I find that the students are much more engaged with the text when I run simulations such as these because the books hold the clues to winning the “game." The novels for which I haven’t developed simulations have much lower test and reading score performances. I’m not saying all this to toot my own horn…. I’m getting to the point here:

At other schools in the district, Lord of the Flies is taught at the 9th grade level, 1984 is sophomore level and Hound of the Baskervilles is not on the list at all. (I could list dozens of other mismatches, but I think you get the idea.) If the Williams Act is actually enforced, I will most likely lose these novels either to a different grade level, or to...the dumpster? Six years of perfecting these simulations and incorporating them into my curriculum will be lost. That’s not only inconvenient for me, but it’s a disservice to my students.

And as far as aligning curriculum goes, look at how well the scripting worked in San Diego City Schools…it didn’t. It was a disaster. The reason scripting is a debacle is because teachers need to care and be excited about what they are teaching. But if we are told what to say and do, word-for-word, then we are entering a world that feels like perpetual standardized testing. It’s boring for the teacher and when teacher is bored, students are bored. And bored = less learning.

To further make my point about how well the state can run the schools, let’s look at how Prop H has been implemented. This proposition started with good intentions—and for that we are grateful! But, it has not been implemented in a safe or competent manner. I have a new high-tech classroom…that will soon be “technically” dead. The fancy, mounted projector has a $100 bulb in it with, at best, a year left of its life. When it burns out in the middle of my power point presentation, or while I’m using my document reader to go over sonnet annotations, who will replace that $100 bulb? Our department budget has been so ravaged we can only afford one bulb per year. Yet we have 14+ projectors about to burn out. They put a new DVD player in my classroom, but it is so cheap it is unable to read half the discs I put into it. And how can I forget about the day my overhead screen broke off its wall mount and nearly crashed on my head—luckily my second period class likes me and yelled for me to get out of the way before it took me out.

The last thing we need in the classroom is more regulations and “help” from the state and district—which is what we will get with the Williams Act. We’re barely surviving what they’ve “given” us so far. (I understand they give us our funding. But they get the funds from the tax payers. And I have a feeling tax payers would not be satisfied with the ways the state and districts choose to spend their money…)

Final thoughts.
Should for some reason we allow the Williams Act to be enforced, what will come of all the books each site will no longer be able to teach? A certain Ray Bradbury book comes to mind…. Indeed, dark days may be ahead for the teachers, but it’s the students who will suffer.

Voice Blog: California's Standardized Tests

How to Boost Test Scores: Accountability
Thank you Voice of San Diego and Emily Alpert for letting my voice (and thus many teachers' voices) be heard.

The Problem with Freedom

So, I've mentioned before that my 12th graders are reading 1984 by George Orwell. If you're unfamiliar, Orwell creates a dystopian society in which "Big Brother" is watching all. The party slogans run: "War is Peace, Freedom is Slavery, Ignorance is Strength." If you've never read it--you need to. It's a staple of the educated.

On to my point: I've been doing a Big Brother Simulation with my seniors in which an unknown "Big Brother" is running the class and doling out punishments and rewards arbitrarily (The Secret: I'm Big Brother...and any friends I talk to for ideas are BB too. The kids all think it's a fellow student.) The goal is for the students to figure out who Big Brother is and form an overthrow. It's been quite fun. I've learned a few things about teenagers over the course of these last two weeks:

1. They love boundaries
2. They love rote, brainless repetition of words--even if they don't know what they're saying and why they're saying it.
3. 1 out of every 30 kids will always rebel--even if they don't know what they're rebelling for.
4.They love "unfairness" because it gives them something to be mad about. And teens love to be mad.
5. They also loooooove having a pre-set, rigid schedule: (AKA: things to do "when the timer goes off.")

And it's helped me realize a few things about myself (and some of it is a little too much like all of them). Warning: This post will now go in a different direction. A direction facing ME and my workout schedule. If you're bored already, skip to the last paragraph and leave your thoughts.

Now that I'm no longer training for a marathon, my schedule is soooooo oooooopen. I can actually see people and hangout with friends again! However, that means going out to dinner more...drinking a bit more than usual...and in general taking in more calories than I'm burning.

Without the rigor of a tight training schedule I am more free and more flabby. Thus, my link to 1984: Freedom is Slavery...To My Thighs. I tried on two pairs of trousers for work today and decided they were too tight and thus inappropriate to wear in front of the classroom. I haven't been on Daily Mile in over a week--even though I have random miles and workouts to log--nothing with real purpose. I think it comes down to discipline and routine for that too.

So my question goes out to the blogosphere:

Do you have any tricks for keeping to a healthy workout routine in your "off training" time? What are some of your favorite recovery/crosstraining workouts that maybe helped you improve as a runner? (i.e. I think my spin classes and outdoor cycling is improving my turnover rate.)

Voice of SD Blog: Being Earnest About Class Size

What is happening to classrooms in San Diego...I can't decide if this is my statement or my question. I am curious to know what the public's priorities are for education. What do you want education to look like for your kids?

Click HERE or above to read the article.

Focus on the Teacher

This will be a big ol' vent fest...and maybe you'll be disappointed in me for some of the things I'm going to say, but I can't hold it in anymore...my husband (whom I usually vent to) is asleep. If my hip weren't so touch-and-go right now I'd be pounding this out on the roads instead, but the keyboard will have to do for now.

I'm working on a piece for Voice of San Diego and it's difficult for me to refrain from getting soap boxy...but the beauty of having my own blog is that I can live in a soapbox if I so choose.

Two separate issues running through my mind involve 1. teacher pay and 2. the so-called "great" teachers who inspire films like Dead Poet's Society or Dangerous Minds.

The first thing I'd like to vent about is how every year our class sizes get bigger--and while YES this is bad for the students, it's also bad for the teacher. But I can't talk about the needs of the teacher in Voice because the public doesn't care about that... the public mentality is: Get over it, that's what you have summer vacation for, and We all have tough jobs so what? Well public, you get what you pay for. And I am going to say publicly what teachers are afraid to admit to anyone but their colleagues: I do the minimum amount of work to be effective and competent.

I am a damn good teacher: I can create meaningful assignments and simulations in less time than the average teacher (that's so arrogant, but I'm being honest), and I can grade essays just as effectively as the average teacher--in half the time as well. My point is not to toot my own horn, it's simply to demonstrate that it's a good thing I'm fast and effective, because I do not and will not kill myself doing uncompensated work that gets little to no respect from the community and less than that from the district. (And I'm certainly not going to miss an episode of "Cougartown" over it.)

A school in New York opened this September that pays 125,000 dollars for its teachers. Of course, these are highly qualified teachers getting these jobs, but if it became common practice that only the "best of the best" make this amount, then I guarantee you teacher bitterness would decrease. (I could go into merit pay right now, but that's a vent for another day.) The way it is now, larger classes mean more paperwork to take home. It means more stressful classroom management issues. Larger classes mean that some teachers have so many extra students it's like teaching a 6th class-- with no added compensation for the time and effort that goes into this.

However, these issues would not be so bad if they were compensated. Then, at least, we would be getting paid for our work. Teachers already work beyond their contract time. Somehow the public believes that when the final bell rings at 3:00 pm teachers are off duty: careless and fancy-free. This is simply wrong... I don't want to go into all the details of how much time teachers spend preparing lesson plans, grading papers, making phones calls or writing emails to parents, counselors and administrators during their "off duty" hours...because I know you will believe me when I say we put in more hours than we should. And for anyone who says, "At least you have summers off," my response is-- first, most of us have already put in enough hours during the school year to compensate for the time off and second, that break is the only thread holding our sanity in place. I'd bet a year's paycheck that if breaks were taken away, DUI's would increase, assaults and "drunk in public" violations would increase, and spousal abuse would skyrocket. I'm not being funny.

The other issue that crossed my mind--and I think I might write something about this for Voice--is that great teachers are no longer in the classroom (quite the oxymoron, wouldn't you say?).

Take for example the Freedom Writers teacher, Erin Gruwell. She isn't in the classroom anymore. As soon as she was able to, she high-tailed it out of the classroom and into a program that trains teachers in her methods. I always find it amazing how this same life choice applies to nearly every "teacher" who presents at our teacher workshops. They all "used to be great" teachers; however, they've all traded the classroom for the conference room. And the cherry on top is, that the methods they teach can't be maintained--that's why they aren't doing them anymore. The amount of energy it requires is impossible--and is one of the reasons Erin Gruwell's marriage failed. Yet, these quitters try to inspire us jaded teachers on the brink. For many of us, it only fuels the bitter flame.

Anyone else want to vent about their job? I'd love to hear about it!

Blog #2 in Voice of San Diego

Whoo hoo! My grumblings about teaching are slowly finding their way into the world...or at least to the small percentage of San Diegans who read online newspapers. Last article was directed at The Man, this one is directed at the parents of high school teenagers.

I Long for the Days of Note Passing

Enjoy!
(But if you don't enjoy--don't tell me)

I have a master's degree, and yet...

EVERY DAY I...

1. Pee in a bathroom that looks like a temporary, make-shift commode for a construction site. (Complete with a huge black widow and at least 2 daddy long legs. Incalculable number of ants.)

2. Collect and handle papers that are often mysteriously stuck together with unidentifiable grayish substances (I refuse to admit to myself that they are really boogers or other body fluids. GAG).

3. Find myself often saying, "Get that out of your mouth," and "Don't touch each other."

Just three things I realized today.
As far as training goes, it's a rest day, but I gotta go run.

I didn't get a jersey...it's confirmed

they hate me. During homecoming week it's tradition for varsity football players to ask their favorite teacher to wear their "away" jersey on the Friday of the Big Game. Last year I was asked to wear one, but not this year. It could be that my odds were significantly lower this year because I only have three football players between two classes of seniors. Last year I had about 8 meat-heads per class, and I had three senior classes. So my chances of getting a jersey this year were slim; even so, it still stings a little. And of course all my students ask, "Are you bummed you didn't get a jersey?" To which I love responding (in monotone of course), "Yes. I'm destroyed. I don't know how I'll ever carry on."

Then I got to thinking, am I meaner than last year? It's a tough call because I really, really disliked last year's kids. They were...pretty much evil, but they were smart. They knew how to use their brains (even if it was only to manipulate and berate) and could at least do their work without expecting me to think for them. I can deal with smart and evil. I can NOT deal with apathetic and dumb. I think I kind of scare this year's seniors because I make them think and they know I get frustrated (and sometimes snippy) if they ask me a dumb question. Don't you dare say, "But there is no such thing as a dumb question" to me. That is the stupidest statement/poster ever invented. OF COURSE there are stupid questions. Let me give you a few:

1. We've been reading silently for 5 minutes and someone blurts out, "Are we doing something right now?" (no joke)
2. I'm giving directions or delivering a lecture and someone blurts out, "Can I go to the bathroom?"
3. The agenda is written on the board and someone asks, "What are we doing today?" or "Do we have homework?"
4. We're reading a novel and we're discussing themes or elements of literature when someone asks out of no where, "Can we watch the movie?"
5. I hand out homework or an in-class assignment and someone asks, "Can this be extra credit?"

See? It's possible. I've never had a class that asks so many of these questions as often as my current seniors do. I roll my eyes so much that at this rate they're going to roll out of my head before Winter Break. This alone is probably why they don't like me...no one likes to find out they're stupid.

It's actually quite disconcerting how hard they work to not use their brains. I despair for our future every time I hand out an assignment and a student asks, "Do I need to keep this?"

This is why I run.

My Blog in Voice of San Diego

The following appeared in San Diego's online newspaper, Voice of San Diego (voiceofsandiego.org) today. I hope it gets some people interested in finding out where our school district chooses to spend its money.

A Day in the Life of School Budget Cuts

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So Typical

Ever had an unexpected moment of understanding? I mean, it literally never crossed your mind that you weren't understanding a situation until suddenly you do understand it?

Today. Seventh Period. English. My little freshmen and I are reading "The Scarlet Ibis" together and I, every once in a while, hear a boy near me sporadically grunting. It sounds as if he is trying to quietly read out loud to himself along with the CD recording. He appeared to be concentrating so hard on the text that I (for once in my life thank God!) didn't tell him to keep his grunting down. I mean hey, if it helps his reading comprehension to say some of the words to himself, and he's not disrupting anyone, then I'm all all for it.

But as the story continues, I notice that he's also twitching, awkwardly drumming his knuckles on the desk, and squeezing his eyes closed as if they hurt him. This forces me to go into my "I-wish-I'd-followed-my-dream-to-become-a-private-detective" mode and survey the situation a little more closely. Something is up with this kid and the other kids seem to be in on it.

This boy, we'll call him Twitchy, is a very soft spoken student. He does his work adequately and is never a behavior problem; however, I'm beginning to realize that I have heard these groans, these grunts, these grunty-groany-twitchings, coming from this kid before; except, I always figured it was the culmination of various teenage noises from around the room. In case you don't know this about freshmen: they're 13-14 years old, can't sit still to save their life and have even less success keeping their mouths closed for more than 20 seconds. (No joke, I've timed them.)

So as I am conducting my covert surveillance of Twitchy, I simultaneously stop the CD to discuss a point of symbolism in the story. While I ask questions and the students share answers, I see Twitchy's eyes roll sideways and his tongue move in and out of his mouth at near supersonic speed. I realize, Holy Shit This Kid's Got Tourette's Syndrome.

My brain froze. Somewhere out in the classroom a student answered my question and all were waiting for my response, but my sudden understanding has rendered me utterly brain-dead-speechless. In my mind I'm flashing through all the times I've given instructions to the class and without realizing who was making the noise said, "Ok, whoever is mumbling and grunting while I'm giving instructions needs to shut it and listen to my instructions," or the time I said, "Hey guys, hi. I'm your teacher...remember me? You need to stop all your fidgeting and focus on what I'm saying because I say important things up here sometimes." And I'm sure I've made more comments that in some indirect way were directed directly at him!

I am instantly humiliated, humbled and saddened by this realization. An by the realization that the kids immediately surrounding him know of his condition. I can see on their little faces that they are concentrating really hard in order to avoid looking at him. So, in the midst of this mind-blowing realization, I think I said something like, "Uh...good answer. Ok. Ummmm. Let's hit the play button again...."

My thoughts a few hours later are only this: Why has NO ONE, no counselor, no advocate, no parent, no noone, told me about Twitchy's tourette's? And don't ask me if I think he was faking. I know bullshit better than a shit farmer...I teach high school (and I was raised on a cattle ranch...loads of shit). Plus, in case you missed it, I want to be a Private Investigator: It's in my nature to assume everyone is a liar.

But I don't have the answer to that aforementioned question so...

I guess for now I'll just hit the play button on my Plyometrics Workout Video* and work on my fast twitch muscles...just like my new favorite student, Twitchy.

*For more info about Plyometrics and why I do them, go here: "Plyometrics." Warning: Do not do plyometrics everyday. Once a week at most.