Among Schoolteachers

Chapter Five: Arriving at FIS

2008-12-18T01:41:00Z

Chapter 5 Arriving at FIS Now, let’s get back to “I wonder why in the world she is calling me?” That was the first thought that started me on this wild ride that has taken me to the highest summit and the lowest trench. One evening I had returned home from being out with friends and had a message to return a phone call. I had known the caller since coming to work in Freedom County. My first experiences were when she was a special education consultant. Then in my third year at Spring Mill she became the assistant principal there. She remained a couple of years and then moved to another elementary school also as an assistant the principal. With the opening of the two new elementary schools scheduled for the fall, in April of 2002, she was named as the new replacement for the departing principal at FIS. I truly had no inclination as to why she might be calling me about two weeks before preplanning was to begin. Of course I returned the message. She said had been speaking with my former principal at Spring Mill about her open positions. I realize administrators talk among themselves and apparently they were discussing possible candidates for different positions. She had an EIP opening. He just happened to mention to her that I had been very interested in an EIP position but did not get one at the new school. (The new the principal was relaying all of this to me on the phone). She said she had called the principal at the school where I was supposed to go to ask if she would object if she talked to me about the EIP job at FIS. Now, keep in mind, FIS is only third, fourth, and fifth grades. My first reaction was not positive. I had never taught above first grade. I had no experience with upper elementary students. The principal talked a bit about the wonderful teachers I would be working with but who were nearing retirement, how she really wanted to groom a strong leader, and she was sure I would enjoy the atmosphere, yada yada yada. I basically said I just really did not think I was well prepared for the position, but she asked me to please not say no just yet. She reassured me there would be plenty of help available if needed and to think about it and let her know the next day. I agreed to think it over. After thinking about it and discussing it with my husband and a couple of friends I was willing to make the change. The school was much closer to my home, I was getting into EIP and out of the regular classroom, which was one of my goals, and I was going into more of a complete unknown, albeit one where the principal really wanted me, as opposed to the wariness about the new school, where I had felt like the Spring Hill teachers were treated like the proverbial stepchildren. I called back and said yes, I’d take it. That is how I came to be at FIS. One of the first orders of business was to get my stuff moved from where it had been stored to FIS. This was a major undertaking. All materials were packed in numbered boxes (I had 134 boxes) and stored in the loft of a building on the county fairgrounds. This meant steps. It also meant numerous trips in my husband’s pick up truck and my convertible. It also meant no air conditioning, and this was around the first of August. I also had to arrange for the teacher who had coordinated the storage location to be present to let us in. Boxes were sorted into what was going into storage and what was going to FIS. I had decided to rent a storage unit. I wasn’t ready to dispose of all my kindergarten materials, but I didn’t think I would need dress up clothes, play food, or alphabet games for third-fifth graders. Eventually, with the help of my husband and son, everything was stored or moved. The next order of business was to meet my new colleagues. There was a county-wide meeting of EIP teachers that I was to attend. Now remember, I don’t know a soul (except for the principal) at FIS. I went to the meeting at the county office. When I got there, teachers were sitting in small groups chatting, laughing, and catching up after the summer. I asked around until I located someone from FIS and introduced myself. The principal had told me the ladies I would be working with were very friendly, helpful, and she just knew I would get along fine with them. On this point, she was absolutely correct! The first of my new colleagues I met was Gail. Gail had been a Freedom County teacher for many years. She had been in EIP at FIS a couple of years. She was from Hapeville and we discovered we had much in common growing up in the Atlanta area. Gail’s husband was a former school board member, retired, and was battling cancer. I can honestly say that Gail is one of the absolute sweetest people on this earth, a true Southern Baptist Christian lady. She never had anything bad to say about anyone, and didn’t comment on controversial issues. She was embedded in education – husband a former school board member, daughter a teacher, sister-in-law an administrator, and grandchildren in the schools. The next colleague I met was Willa. Now, Willa is a little like Marcie Creech (Remember the children’s minister?). She is a character. Willa was basically in charge of EIP. Since we are not officially a grade, we don’t have a grade chair. It is more like a department at the secondary level, and Willa was our department head. There were to be four full time EIP teachers and one half time, so we were a small department. Now, about Willa. To look at her you might think she was a very prim, direct, reserved person. She was my age, slim, with very short tailored black hair. She spoke with authority, was very conservative, a strong Assembly of God Christian, and with a deep south Georgia accent. I would come to find out that Willa was much more than that – she was quite a character, and one of the funniest ladies I would ever know. The other full time colleague was also new to the school. Her family had moved from Kentucky, where she had actually been the principal of a small elementary school. She was younger than Gail, Willa, and I, and had two boys in elementary school (not at FIS). Her husband was a minister, and she was also a sweet Christian lady. I thought she would be on the fast track to administration, and as it turned out, she definitely was. The final colleague was Larue. Larue was new to the school, had been a special education teacher and had known the principal through that route. She had semi-retired and would only be part time, half days. Larue was also very sweet and brought a lot to the EIP program from her special ed experience. That describes the make up of our department for that first year at FIS: Two teachers who had been in the school and knew the faculty who had remained there (after about half moved with the former the principal), and three new faces, myself, the former principal, and Larue. Before the year was out we would have still another new face. All of us got along well and I can’t recall any problems among us. I shared a room with the former principal. We were able to work out the space amicably and schedule pullout groups around each other. We both mostly worked on a collaborative basis with teachers in their own classrooms, so sharing a room was not a big issue. At the beginning, I had been a little concerned about scheduling and teaching assignments, but after expressing my preferences to work with the younger students (third graders) in reading the schedule was arranged so that I could do that the majority of the time. I worked with both new and veteran teachers. We all ate lunch together, shared our personal lives, and shared our Christian backgrounds. We all had also been musically inclined at our respective churches. This made for a very pleasant working relationship. Mostly, we listened to Willa’s hilarious stories about things that had happened in South Georgia, students she had worked with, and other teachers. If you ever run into her, you must get her to tell you her goat story! She kept us rolling with laughter! Coming into EIP was quite different than classroom teaching experiences. EIP was/is a state mandated program to provide extra instruction for students performing below grade level in elementary school reading and math. It can take various forms, but at FIS the principal preferred we work collaboratively with classroom teachers to provide the extra instruction in the regular classroom. There are specific guidelines for determining which students qualify for the program. Many classroom teachers felt that EIP was a “cushy” job. This was not entirely unwarranted. In fact, one of the reasons I wanted to move into EIP was because of my less than satisfactory experience with the EIP teacher who came into my kindergarten and then first grade classroom. She really had done what appeared to be very little. She basically wanted me to plan for her, provide the materials, and let her just sit and carry out the plan with her small group. She was often late or not there at all. Substitutes were not arranged for EIP teachers at Spring Mill. I had no idea what the previous EIP teachers at FIS had been like, but the principal had said that she knew many classroom teachers had the impressions it was an easy job, but that at FIS the EIP teachers worked as hard as anyone else and were very dedicated to their students. There were many different aspects to EIP as opposed to the regular classroom. Some of what were seen as advantages by other teachers actually could be seen as disadvantages when looked at from another perspective. No, we did not have students at our door at 7:20 am, but we did have assigned duties during that time between student arrival and the tardy bell. Car duty, bus duty, breakfast duty, hall duty, attending meetings, covering classes for late teachers or substitutes, covering classes for teachers to attend meetings. We had no planning period during the day, we were scheduled back to back for the most part without transition time between classes. This morning period and after student dismissal were the only times we had to prepare resources, lesson plans, make parent contacts, or whatever else needed to be done, IF there were no meetings. There would occasionally be someone with an open period on their schedule, but this was always a temporary situation and they were expected to be testing students, assisting teachers, or otherwise making themselves useful. EIP teachers also were not usually responsible for report card grades, although we did collaborate with teachers on assignments and tests. If the group ended up being pulled out as opposed to collaborative, we would provide the teacher with feedback for them to incorporate into final report card grades. Another situation that could be seen as an advantage was that we did not begin going into classrooms to teach until about the third week of school. There is a great deal of evaluation and testing involved for qualifying students for EIP, and any new students who may be at risk must be evaluated. We spent the entire first two weeks of school determining who the EIP students were and arranging for them to be in classrooms that had EIP collaborative teachers. This sometimes affected the proposed schedule, which usually had to be adjusted. Obtaining records and test scores on new students and completing all of their paperwork was very time consuming. For students that came with no records and for whom we could not locat any information, we had to do our own assessments for where they should be placed. We may not be working our usual schedule, but we were certainly working! Once I got into my regular schedule it was interesting and different. I learned a tremendous amount about teaching with mid-elementary students. Classroom management was not that different, but the curriculum was very different. It was interesting to observe the different teaching styles of the teachers with whom I collaborated. This led to some very noteworthy insights. I collaborated with one brand new out-of-college teacher. She was a sweet girl, as competent as a new teacher could be, but she had a very challenging class behaviorally. I had to check myself not to just go in and take over. Years later, while conducting my doctoral research I learned to my dismay that a parent had actually said to her something to the effect of “You’re such an incompetent new teacher they had to put a more experienced teacher in with you!” How’s that for a confidence builder? This just happened to be one of the parents of one of the students with severe problems. Let me insert a note here about some of this type student. I am not casting blame on the students, the parents, the teachers, or the administrators. However, I do hold “the system” culpable. I mean the system of public education in general, not the local county systems. Most children with either behavioral or academic difficulties enter our public schools in kindergarten or first grade. My years of experience in those grades enlightened me on what happens to them there. The teacher and parents must follow the rules of “the system.” Let’s take a scenario that was an actual occurrence. In one of my kindergarten classes there was a student who was absolutely incorrigible. He simply refused to cooperate. I tried all the tricks I had up my sleeve to build a relationship and connect with this student. Not only was he outright defiant, he was aggressive toward other students. The usual consequences and parent contacts had no effect. This was all occurring during the first six to eight weeks of the school year. I was giving him the benefit of the doubt, allowing for adjustment, yada yada yada. The next step after this in the system is to hold what is called a student support team meeting. This is an official meeting with the teachers, parents, an administrator, and usually the counselor and a representative from the special education department. There are very specific state and system policies that guide this process. Due to scheduling, the meeting is set up for mid October. Minutes are recorded that become part of a student’s permanent record. All parties make suggestions for remedying the problem. This meeting results in some type of recommendation, normally strategies for parents to implement at home and teachers to implement in the classroom. Unless there are some extremely unusual circumstances, the first recommendation is commonly for the student to remain in this teacher’s class and for the teacher to implement the suggestions/recommendations of the team. The team also sets a date for a follow up meeting, normally after a minimum of one month. Since one month is close to the time of the Thanksgiving holiday, the meeting is scheduled for early December. Keep in mind that the principal knows I am a competent and experienced kindergarten teacher. There are only three times in my kindergarten-first grade teaching experience where I have initiated the student support team process on students for reasons related to behavior. You can already see part of the problem here. Already, this student has disrupted my class for two months. Now we (myself, the other students, and their parents) must endure at least another month of his behavior with only very minor changes in how his behavior had been handled. Now, previous to the meeting, I have said to my administrator this kid is way out of the domain of the ordinary challenging kid. I strongly and sincerely feel he needs some type of psychological evaluation. I had said this in private before the meeting because it is not politically correct to come out with such a strong statement in the student support team meeting without advance notice. The next student support team meeting is held. Remember, it is now early December. It is basically a repeat of the first meeting, with a few minor adjustments in the recommendations. There is a very veiled hint that eventually this student may need “further evaluation” if the situation does not improve. I know better than to challenge my superiors in front of parents and other educators. I say little, sign the forms, and brace myself for several more weeks (at the least). Again, keep in mind this is not just to make things easier for me. The other students are also dealing with this disruptive, aggressive child, which means their parents are vocal to me about it. Also, the really sad part is the child himself. He has got to be miserable! He has no friends. Other students avoid him. He is also missing out on learning. With his behavior and relationships in the class in such turmoil he cannot give learning the focus it needs. Although he is very bright, he is beginning to fall behind academically. The next meeting is scheduled for mid January. By mid January, the school year is half way completed. The meeting is scheduled, the time is set, but no parent shows up. This requires phone calls and rescheduling of the meeting. About three weeks later the rescheduled meeting takes place. It is now February. There has been no change in his behavior at school. Mom makes a very telling statement. She says she has done everything she knows to do at home as far as consequences or punishment. She says everything she tried to do was undone by the grandmother who lives in the home and babysits the little boy. The parents are divorced and the father sees the child occasionally. Mother says she is at her wits end and is just going to turn the child over to his father and wash her hands of him. This gives us more insight into this child’s behavior. She asks us to contact the father and schedule a meeting with him because she doesn’t know what else to do. No mention is made of testing. The school year is nearly three quarters of the way over. At one point when I have taken the child to the office because of the severity of the classroom disruption, the principal is speaking to him. Not too harshly either, I might add. The principal looks aside at me and says, “How can you stand to discipline him when he is so c-u-t-e?” I simply rolled my eyes, because I did not want to get into this in the child’s presence. He does keep him in the office the rest of the day and we have a peaceful classroom for a few hours. Eventually a meeting is scheduled with the father. This takes place in early March. Dad says he is going to get this situation under control and please allow times for his strategies to have some effect. No testing is mentioned. A follow up meeting is scheduled for about six weeks later, after spring break. Nothing changed in the child’s behavior at school. If anything, it was worse. At the next meeting, dad says he sees some improvement at home and perhaps it is just taking longer to have an effect at school. Dad seems to imply we are just picking on the student. He asked about coming by to observe and we say of course, by all means. In the meantime, we have spring break and there are only about eight weeks of school left. It is decided that this student will NOT remain with his classmates in the looping sequence and he will be moved to another teacher’s classroom for first grade. Nothing is mentioned about further evaluation. Dad does stop by a few times before the end of the year. He sees the child’s behavior. He can’t deny it is out of control. On one occasion in late May this was during recess. The child had hit another student and refused to line up when it was time to come in until his father threatened to pick him up and carry him inside. As we were headed back inside for rest time he asked me if there was somewhere he could take the child to spank him. Of course I could not endorse this or make such a suggestion. I could see the father was very upset, so much so that I was concerned for the safety of the child. His fists were actually clenching and unclenching. He was fuming. He was saying things like, “Why can’t my child just behave like other kids? Why can’t my son be normal? I see you all are correct that his behavior is disruptive and aggressive to other students. I don’t understand why or what to do!” I had to remain with my class because my parapro was on lunch duty. I was talking with him at the door of the classroom, away from the students. I said I could see he was very concerned and suggested he might want to talk this over the principal, that I couldn’t leave the students. I asked him if he would wait in the office lobby while I arranged for that. He went off down the hall. I summoned the parapro from across the hall and asked if she would go get the principal in the cafeteria, explain that it was an emergency, and ask him to come by my room before going to the office so I could give him a heads up. She did, and he did. I explained the situation and he went to talk with the parent. I do not know all that took place in that conference. The student was placed in another class for first grade. If there is a student support team ongoing for a student they usually reconvene after the first six weeks of the school year. This happened in this case, and there was similar sequence of events. The student was still very disruptive. Let’s give the new classroom time to have an effect, they said. He’s a little older now, let’s see if maturity doesn’t help. He’s going back to live with mom, let’s see if that makes a difference. Yada Yada Yada! Close to the end of the school year it is decided that the student has made little to no progress in controlling his behavior, and the subject of further evaluation is broached. The parents want to wait until the beginning of the next school year (second grade) before anything else is done. So another teacher, another classroom of students, another set of parents, and again, sadly, this child, have gone through another year of aggressive and disruptive behavior. At the beginning of second grade, except not actually the beginning, because the first SSTs are delayed until at least six weeks into the new school year, the process is begun again. This time, things are taken a little more seriously. It is agreed that what is called a “Brief evaluation” should take place. This is exactly what it is. It usually consists of two tests, an intelligence quotient test, and an achievement test. There are sometimes additional behavioral tests involved. This process of scheduling the tests with the special education department, conducting the tests, analyzing the results, and getting the written report can take up to two months. Then a meeting has to be scheduled to discuss the results. So it is near the end of October when the next meeting is held and results are discussed. Results are mixed. The IQ and achievement are fine. The behavioral evaluation does indicate some need for further evaluation. Of course, it is now almost Thanksgiving break. The child will also be turning eight years old soon after the first of the year. This is a key point because the parameters of what is considered the normal range for most psychological testing change once a child is eight years old. It is “easier” to qualify a child for special services based on scores under the later age parameters. This is one reason so little testing is done in the primary grades. Of course the laws and regulations contribute to this too, because once a child has a complete evaluation it cannot be repeated until two years pass. The team does decide to pursue what is called a “complete evaluation.” However, it is decided it would be best to wait until after the holidays AND after the student’s birthday. The parents do give permission and sign all paperwork to proceed at that time. The complete evaluation is slated to begin in February. The student has completed kindergarten, first grade, and is not past the halfway point in second grade. The testing process began about the second week of February. There is a week’s winter break. The complete evaluation testing is more involved than the brief, and consequently takes longer to complete, analyze, and report. It is the first of April before the report is finalized. There is a week of spring break, and the meeting is scheduled for mid April after the break. In the meeting, the parents are told that the evaluations show the students does qualify for special education services as the tests indicate he does have an emotional behavioral disorder. It is recommended that he be placed in a regular classroom for third grade and have resource classes with a special education teacher for an hour each day. All parties agree to this. Naturally, the classroom teacher is thinking to herself, “What about the remaining five hours of the day?” The next school year begins. The student is now in third grade and receives his resource time. He continues to have problems in regular class. An entirely different set of discipline policies now have to be observed because he is officially a special education student. To make a long story short, his resource time is increased over the year with little effectiveness on his behavior in regular class. By the end of the third grade year, it is recommended the student be placed in a self- contained emotionally behaviorally disorder class for fourth grade. There have now been four school years: kindergarten, first, second, and third, where a teacher, students, parents, and again most importantly this child, have had to endure his problems. Sadly, this is not an outlier. The process generally proceeds this way whether it is behavioral or academic concerns a teacher has about a student. This is just one of several examples I could share with you. I have personally taught three different kindergarten students who followed this same route. It was fourth grade before they were placed in educational environments where they could be successful. I could have told you the first day of kindergarten the student had major problems and so could any other experienced kindergarten teacher worth her salt! Whew! Back to my first year at FIS. Besides collaborating with the brand new teacher (with three of this type student in her third grade class) I worked with a veteran teacher. I did not know for some time that this teacher had requested to be moved into an EIP position but was denied that request. This could have made for a less than collegial working relationship but it did not. I credit Kafi’s professional for that. I had no idea about her request until several months into the school year. I would not have known then if I had not been told by another faculty member. Although she had she had been teaching fifth for several years she had not ever taught lower than fourth, so third was a very new experience for her. Kafi was a mature lady that I enjoyed getting to know. She had the most wonderful laugh – a right-out-there-no-holds-barred laugh that you just loved hearing. Kafi was a very confident teacher. She was open to suggestions but in general used very traditional teaching strategies. We talked about the need to get things down to a very basic level for these younger students, break the concepts into chunks, and give them concrete manipulatives to work with. This was much easier for math than for reading. Reading was pretty much teaching the story from the reading book with traditional vocabulary word definitions and tests from the publisher. There was no differentiation for various reading levels. This was frustrating to me. I basically walked around the classroom, prodding kids to keep their heads up and follow along, as she read aloud and “discussed” from a podium at the front of the room. Occasionally I would do the reading aloud, which eliminated some of the boredom for me. We did eventually try some group work, which was partially successful. It was still not the intense leveled guided reading that I felt the students needed. But who was I to try and tell this experienced, self-confident teacher what to do? The group work was okay, but it was also difficult. This class also had one of those incorrigible students described beforehand. Only this student was getting no resource. He had not even begun the evaluation process. We went through all kinds of strategies. At one point, when I had leaned down to this student to ask him to please be quiet (he continually vocalized and made noise just to distract other students) he looked directly at my eyes with a cold stare and said “Get out of my face!” There were absolutely no consequences. We had already learned by that point that there would be no consequences from an office referral and no consequences from the parent. He was already separated from the other students. He would not do extra work. About our only recourse was to deny him recess. That did not seem effective either and so we gave up on it, hoping some exercise would at least get a little of his frustration and energy out. As it turned out, the student was transferred to another class at the midpoint of the school year. We learned that the exact same sequence of events had happened in his second grade year at another school. I also collaborated with a veteran fourth grade teacher. I had one of her reading periods while Ellie, the former principal EIP teacher with whom I shared my room, had her other period. This teacher had about 30 years experience, all at this same school. She had been moved around to various grade levels over the years. This should have been a sign! Maizie was a person that was hard to like, socially. She was unmarried. She was very involved with language arts, and was the language arts coordinator for our school. This is a person who is designated to be the liaison between the system level curriculum person and each local school. I had no knowledge of her reputation but was soon to find out. She would come to play a key role in my experiences at this school. It did not take long to see what the problems were. When I arrived at her room at the appointed time, her first interaction was usually to say, “Oh good, you’re here. I need to go make some copies.” OR “Thank goodness you’re here, I really need a rest room break.” OR “Now that you’re here I need to go call my doctor’s office.” OR “I need to go set up a conference.” You get the picture. She would come in the door of the school in the mornings either right at the student bell or later. During lunch or her planning period she sat around the lounge or the office talking. She always volunteered to organize events, and some of this was part of her responsibility as the language arts contact person. There was the spelling bee, the recitation festival, the battle of the books, and meetings at the county office. All of which took her out of her classroom. The situation was not much better when she was in the classroom. In fact, I felt it was worse. She sat behind her desk or occasionally on a stool at a podium in front of the room. She proceeded to talk “at” the students in a loud, forced voice. It was not a conversational tone. Few students were paying any attention. They would be reading library books, drawing pictures, passing notes, carrying on low conversations with classmates. When she wasn’t ignoring the off task behavior she would be constantly harping. “James, put that away. Crystal, close that book. Dontae, look at the board. Serita, sit down. Jordan, quit poking Ryan. James, I said put that away. No, you can’t go to the bathroom. No, you can’t get water. I don’t know if we’re having recess. You better pay attention to this, it might be on the test. You better stop that or I’ll call your dad. You better listen because report cards are only two weeks away.” YADA YADA YADA. The interactions between students often escalated into name calling contests, hurling insults, and sometimes, even scuffles. More than one fight had broken out in her classroom. When she was addressing subject matter, which was basically the same way as the other veteran teacher, standing at the front of the classroom reading aloud, students were not engaged. I myself could barely stand listening to her voice. I can imagine how those poor kids felt having to hear it a good portion of the day. I came to prefer that she leave the room and just let me manage the class. Her lesson plans were always well written and she was doing what she planned, but it was basically one sided. The majority of students were totally disengaged. She was open to suggestions, and we did occasionally try some small group work, but as with the other class, it was just okay. And I could still hear her piercing voice throughout the classroom. I eventually had to just ask the principal if I couldn’t pull out my EIP students and give some quality instruction in a more consistent atmosphere conducive to learning. And that is just what happened. Ellie followed the same course with her group. We both had the same experiences with Maizie and often discussed strategies for improving the situation. After trying to be a positive influence in the classroom, modeling lessons, and making suggestions that seemed to have little effect we decided the best we could do for our students was pull them out. As we both learned more about Maizie, it appeared things had been this way since the beginning of her career. There were two teachers in the building whose own children had been in her class years ago, and they confirmed this. There was also a young, though not first year, teacher in the building who had actually been in Maizie’s class herself. She vividly recalled how she and her friends would just stand their folders up and do whatever they wanted behind them as she either droned on reading the story aloud or constantly denigrated students. Her reputation was also well known in the community. A friend of mine, not a teacher, but whose children had gone to this school, asked me upon hearing that I had transferred there, “Is Ms. ____ still there? She was awful!” When I responded that yes, unfortunately, she was still there, this friend could not believe it. She questioned me as to how this is possible. How can an incompetent teacher stay in the system, much less at the same school, for decades? This question gnawed at me. As you will read later, it eventually became a question I could not, on the principle, suppress any longer. Another key development the first year I was at FIS was a very pleasant surprise. Shortly after the beginning of the school year, I received a phone call from a friend from my church named Marie. Our paths had drifted apart due to our work locations and ages of our children placing them in different activities. Marie said she had been browsing the local school systems on the internet and came across my name at FIS. She was looking into going back to full time teaching now that her boys were older and thought she might start out substituting. Her preference was older elementary or middle school so the “Intermediate School” title had caught her eye, and as she browsed the site she came across my name on the faculty list. She said is this you at FIS? I said yes and we had a conversation about the school and the county system in general. Freedom county had long been considered one of the best systems in the state. Her youngest son was in eighth grade in a neighboring county that was experiencing major turmoil in its school system and population, and she was interested in a change for him for high school. She wanted to let her older son finish his senior year at his current school. I encouraged Marie to get into the substitute class, come by the school and let me introduce her around, and I was sure she would get plenty of work. She knew as well as I and most other teachers that this is the most direct route towards getting a permanent teaching position. Marie began subbing at our school in the fall and worked almost daily. Come March, a change occurred in some administrative positions across the county due to the upcoming opening of another new elementary school. Ellie, my FIS roommate, applied for and received an assistant principal position. In April, my friend Marie was assigned as her long-term sub to last until the end of the school year. This meant there would also be an EIP position available the next year as long as were given our same allotment. Marie is a fine Christian lady and a lot of fun to be around. I was glad to have her as a roommate and she fit in wonderfully with our EIP team. Of course we missed Ellie, but we had known from the beginning she was on the fast track to an administrative position. As the school year 2002-2003 came to a close, I had learned a tremendous amount. I had enjoyed the year in spite of its idiosyncrasies. There had certainly been adjustments, especially not being in a position to call the shots as to what I thought was best for students. Marie did apply for and was given our EIP opening for the following school year. I had a great Christian team of colleagues. I looked forward with great expectations to the next school year.

Chapter Four: Here We Go-a-Looping

2008-11-30T00:39:00Z

Chapter Four: Here We Go-a-Looping: The next six years at Spring Mill I was very excited to finally be teaching kindergarten! My parapro and I had become good friends and had gotten used to working together. We had children the same age. We had other interests in common and she was a very diligent worker, unlike some others. Parapros are paid next to nothing, and many of them work that way too. Some are working only to have access to benefits such as health insurance, especially if their spouses are in business for themselves. Mickayla always went above and beyond. Our entire journey of working together for seven years was one of friendship, respect, and cooperation. Kindergarten is an indescribable experience. You know you are usually “taking” a parent’s most prized possession. You will become one of the most important people in that child’s life, at least for the next couple of years. In the case of “looping” it may even be for longer than that. Looping is when a teacher keeps the same class of students and moves up with them to the next grade. The students have the same teacher and classmates for two consecutive years. There are actually schools that keep students and teachers together throughout extended years. This is one characteristic, among many unique concepts, of Waldorf Schools. There are pros and cons of looping. I did quite a lot of study about this and published an article in a national education journal. When the principal asked if I was willing to give it a try I was excited about the idea. Looping placed a different perspective on nearly everything I did with my students. Because I believed so strongly in developmentally appropriate practice, I knew I had the added luxury of time with these students. I was also induced to build positive and time-proven relationships with parents. I was compelled to work my hardest at building relationships with those challenging students, knowing that I might very well have those challenges for two years, not just one! It may be incriminating to admit this, but there are few teachers out there who would not secretly admit to yearning for the end of a school year just so they won’t have to deal with little Johnny Lunchbucket (Thanks for the nomer, Gus!). Some of the experiences of kindergarten are thrilling, others are routine, and still others are heartbreaking. It becomes routine to help fasten and unfasten clothing for going to the bathroom. It becomes routine to open milk cartons and punch straws in juice boxes. It becomes routine to say “hands to yourself!” It becomes routine to go through backpacks and folders for notes from home. It becomes routine to soothe scraped knees and feelings. It becomes routine to tie shoes. It becomes routine to tie shoes. And oh, did I say it becomes routine to tie shoes? What never becomes routine are those heartbreaking scenarios. When a little one tells you his mommy said they didn’t have enough money for the field trip. When that troubled face says they couldn’t do their homework of “reading” one book each night because the only one home with them was their ten- year-old sister or brother. When a precious (and precocious) little lady says she loves her new dress because it makes her look sexy. When a droopy -eyed little man says he’s sleepy because he was up until eleven watching MTV videos. These situations are never routine. To me, they are still heartbreaking. To this day as I wonder what became of those little hearts and minds. And even now, it is still heartbreaking to hear some of the same from older students, only worse! It is those moments that are thrilling that can make all the others fade like stars in the daytime, you know they’re still there, but you just can’t see them because the sun is so bright. When that light comes on in a child’s eyes that lets you know they understand, “they got it” – that’s a thrill. When they stumble over tough words and come up with their own version, pasketti and capatiller are good examples, it is endearing. When they give you those unselfconscious hugs it is heartwarming (even with grimy hands). When they bring you a picture they have just painted, saying they knew red was your favorite color, it is charming even if the paint is dripping all the way across the room. When they call you mommy it reminds you of how important you are in their lives. Of course these are some of the things you might expect to hear from teachers. What about all those things that happen among fellow schoolteachers, co-workers, and administrators? That’s what this book is really about. The faculty at Spring Mill seemed to get along fine for the most part. Everybody pretty much did their own thing. That is a tip off – when faculty members are not collaborating there is less opportunity for conflict. I do not recall nearly the amount of conflict in six years at Spring Mill as I experienced in one year at my next school! That year was the basis of my doctoral dissertation and the impetus for this book. But more about that later… Of course there were occasional issues. Like the time we were scheduled for a field trip to the circus. For some of the teachers, one of whom happened to be the grade chair, this was a traditional field trip. How it related to the curriculum I never did figure out. Besides that, I had my own opinions about why this was not the greatest idea for a trip. Take 24 kindergarteners, along with the rest of the grade level which amounted to about 100 five and six year olds, to downtown Atlanta on buses to the (at-that-time) Omni arena, where we would join about 3,000 other kids and teachers for the circus, and we would have to walk blocks to and from the buses? I just did not see the value. Being relatively new, I didn’t say much. I had no choice but to go along anyway. That’s one of the problems with field trips nowadays. They are always for entire grade levels. I even once went on one that was the entire school! Individual teachers/classes cannot schedule trips. One of the issues about the circus trip was purchasing souvenirs or refreshments. The parent permission letter had plainly stated that the purchase of souvenirs would not be permitted, and room mothers would be coordinating snacks to be brought with us. My room mother followed the guidelines to the letter and had juice boxes and small individual bags of snacks. That would have been fine had all the other classes followed suit. But nooooo, two classes bought circus drinks, popcorn, and a souvenir for their kids! You can imagine what that started from the chaperoning parents, putting those of us who had followed the guidelines in a sticky situation. We made it through the day, but you can be sure the next time this grade chair planned a trip I spoke my mind about it. Another issue involved parapros. A couple of parapros were assigned to office duties. They were not regular classroom parapros. Teachers or their classroom parapros were not allowed to make copies or operate the laminator. I understand this to a certain extent. The more people that use such equipment the more likely it is to have problems. Requests for copies were supposed to be turned in at least 24 hours in advance. These parapros were often called on for other duties. A couple of them had children in the school. Part of the issue involved the location of the workroom where these parapros were stationed. The school’s design had a separate room for a teacher’s lounge as part of the office suite. This was convenient for phones, restrooms, the cafeteria, mailboxes, media center and office. Ever since the school had opened this room had not been used for its intended purpose; it was designated the workroom, although there was a room intended to be used as a workroom located on the opposite end of the building, far removed from the office and cafeteria. The rooms’ functions were essentially swapped. There were advantages for having the workroom closer to the office, but those advantages were not for teachers. In fact, it was a distinct disadvantage for teachers. Just imagine your classroom is located closer to the now more removed teacher’s lounge. You may think that’s better, and for quick trips to the restroom it may be. Quick trips to the restroom are actually a joke for elementary school teachers. There rarely is such an opportunity. Only during lunch or planning period! Now, imagine yourself marching your class of 25-30 students from your room to the opposite end of the building for lunch or specials. Now you must backtrack completely to the other end of the building, with your cafeteria tray, to eat your lunch in the lounge. Of course you have to allow time to be back at the opposite end of the building to pick your class up at the appointed time on the dot! Not to mention you need to also go by the office, check your mailbox, put in copy orders, and return any phone calls and make that quick trip to the bathroom. And I do mean quick because all of this must take place within the time you dropped your students off and the time you must pick them up, about 30 minutes, including traversing the hallways that are about the length of a football field! Well, back to the parapros. It was unnerving to be hurrying to pick up your class, and suddenly realizing you are short one or two copies of something that must go home today, looking into the office suite, and seeing one of the office parapros sitting at her desk in the copy room filing her nails or reading a book! I’m not kidding. And then the unmitigating nerve for her to remind you about the 24 hour notice, and say she would try to get to it before dismissal, if you wanted to come back and pick it up! My blood pressure is going up just recalling this incident. Of course I would not say anything to the principal, not wanting to be a tattletale, complainer, or grouch (that would come later). I also had the suspicion this parapro was pretty good friends with the principal outside of school. Another incident that is very vivid in my memory was also related to parapros. A situation arose where one of the office parapros went along on a field trip with her child’s class. There was talk among some of the classroom parapros about whether this should be considered part of their workday or not. They had seen where the parapro in question was signed in on the sign-in book for her regular hours. (Sign-in books have a list of all faculty members and the sign in times are there in the open for anyone to see). There was some disgruntlement being voiced about whether this was “fair” or not. One day soon after this I happened to be in the office, behind the counter, speaking with the clerk. A different parapro was on the outside of the counter and a comment was made that there was talk about the office parapro going on the field trip. About that time the principal came out of her office and behind the counter. I was caught between the principal and the opening in the counter to the waiting area. And I literally do mean caught! She was very irate. Her voice was raised. What is all this talk going on? It’s nobody’s business what anyone in this office does! I make the decisions around here! She looked directly at me and said, “Do you know anything about this?” I responded that I just knew there was some talk, I didn’t know any details, and please excuse me I had to get back to my classroom! She turned on the classroom parapro at the counter and continued raving. I hightailed it out of there. I had never had a confrontation with this the principal, and boy can I say that after that I hoped I never did. We have always maintained a congenial relationship to this day. The founding the principal of Spring Mill moved on to the county office. The new principal was congenial, and things continued pretty much status quo. If anything, the faculty was left more on their own to go their own directions. This may be interpreted as treating teachers as professionals who do not need micromanaging. On the other hand, there are those who may need some managing! I got along fine with “the new guy.” In 2002 the system was to open two new elementary schools. I was not dissatisfied at Spring Mill, but since the experience of opening it as a new school had been so rewarding I wanted to be a part of that again. I signed up for voluntary transfer. After attending a meeting where both the principals of the new schools shared their philosophies, I chose to go with S. H. Miller. I learned another big lesson! When we had opened Spring Mill, the principal was not coming from an existing elementary school. Indeed, she had not been a principal at all. The principal of S. H. Miller was a veteran in the county. She had opened other new schools. She was coming from an existing elementary school. This is one of those political situations about which I understood very little. I had liked her approach at the meeting. She seemed congenial and professional, with just enough faculty interaction to not be micromanaging. We were given surveys to list our first, second, and third choices of grade levels we wanted to teach. There were no interviews involved, policies required voluntary transfers fill the faculty openings, and after that any leftover openings could be new hires. I had no personal interactions with this the principal throughout this whole process. There were several other teachers at Spring Mill also moving to this school as voluntary transfers. At this point I was already interested in an EIP (Early Intervention Program) position. In addition to my rheumatoid arthritis, I had now been diagnosed with fibromyalgia. Both of those conditions together were taking their toll. I did not have the energy level I once had and was continually exhausted. I had been on several different medications for the RA and tried every new treatment that came out. Each would help for a time but then the symptoms would eventually recur. I listed EIP, kindergarten, and first grade as my choices for the new school, in that order. About two days after the end of post planning, I received a phone call from the principal. She said she had placed me in a first grade position. She also said that supply orders should be turned in by the end of the week to the secretary. At this point, they were operating out of the county office. The school building would not be ready for occupancy until the very last moment, the week of preplanning. That was the totality of the conversation. No getting to know you, no would you consider, no explanation about this placement. I was of course disappointed but was not in a position to voice this. Apparently the principal had called all of the Spring Mill transfer volunteers that same evening. Immediately after getting off the phone with her my phone rang and it was a colleague. She also was “assigned” her third choice. She shared that this same scenario had taken place among most of the other Spring Mill volunteers (who were all calling each other back and forth that evening) – each was basically told their assignment, and no one got their first or second choices. This was the lesson I learned, and looking back I can see that I should have expected it. The principal’s favored faculty from her previous schools were given their preferences first, leaving others (who she did not know from Adam) to fill in the blanks. What I did not see coming and was taken aback with was her curt to-the-point demeanor on the phone. This was especially confirmed further by the experience of one of the other Spring Mill transfers. This teacher, a younger single girl with about three years of experience also did not get her first or second choice of assignments, but she was okay with the third choice. She had taught an upper grade and a lower grade, and knew that she really did not want the lower, so her middle placement was acceptable. I am relaying Stephanie’s account of what happened to her. When Stephanie went to turn in her supply order to the secretary, she introduced herself. The secretary said, “Oh, you’re (Ms. So and So). By the way, your assignment has been changed to kindergarten.” Well, Stephanie was of course dumbfounded. This was exactly what she did not want. She said something to the effect of, “Oh no I’m not!” She asked if the principal was available for her to talk with and she was. The principal basically told Stephanie she didn’t have any choice, it was her prerogative to make the decision, she would not consider any other alternative placement, and if Stephanie didn’t want it she could look elsewhere. Stephanie left in tears and basically said she would be taking the matter up with the superintendent. Stephanie was especially upset with the way the situation was handled. She felt for the secretary to inform her of the change in such an off hand way was entirely uncalled for. The principal should have called her with the change and spoken with her personally. Even if it had been acceptable, it would have had a major impact on her supply order, for which that day was the deadline! Supplies for kindergarten are totally different than for older grade levels. She also felt that once she was speaking with the principal her treatment was demeaning, and again, unprofessional. Stephanie went to the superintendent, with whom she had a collegial relationship. Apparently the matter was taken care of because she received a phone call the beginning of the next week, from the secretary , notifying her of her re-assignment back to third grade. Of course all of this was shared with the rest of us transfers, causing us to wonder what we getting into. Nearing the end of the summer, my vacation was about over, my stuff was stored, and I was mentally preparing to teach first grade at the new school with mixed feelings. Whew! What an inauspicious beginning! But not to worry. All of that was about to be of little consequence.

Chapter Three - In the beginning...A New School

2008-11-17T17:36:00Z

Chapter Three – In the Beginning……….Spring Mill I had filed applications with C….. and F,,,,,,, County Schools. C…….was actually my first choice. I lived there and my children were in school there. I liked the multicultural atmosphere. I had many friends who were employed with the school system. I was very confident I would obtain a job offer. However, I learned one of my first important lessons about public education from C…… County Officials. I contacted everyone I knew. I had three principals tell me, while swearing they would deny it to their grave if I said they said it, that they would love to hire me but I was the wrong color. Here I was, an ideal candidate – I knew the culture, knew the system, was a dependable mature teacher, and I was not the right color. Again – I wasn’t good enough. My oldest son had graduated high school, and my two younger ones were to enter high school and middle school. I didn’t want them to change. But somehow, I believe God, in his all- knowing wisdom, knew exactly what he was doing. I turned my attention to F…… County. I had filled out the F…… County application at a job fair at which the BOE was represented at Mercer that spring. The representative told me they were opening two new elementary schools that fall – and a parent I had spoken with as kindergarten director was going to be the principal at one of those schools. The representative advised sending her a funny note or cartoon letting her know I was interested in a position. I thought that was certainly unique! That’s just not my style, and I didn’t do it, but after getting to know her, I understand why it was suggested. I did send a note – just not a funny one! My spiel as kindergarten director to parents had always been to emphasize the developmentally appropriate philosophy of early childhood education. I’m sure I had done so when speaking with this lady as a parent. She did call for an interview, and in the interview the first question she asked was about developmentally appropriate approaches. I could tell she knew what it was, she just wanted to clarify what I thought. This is worthy of note because F….. County was known as having just about as opposite of a philosophy as you can have from developmentally appropriate. I had fought this battle at the kindergarten. I remember being appalled once when my sister said (about the kindergarten), “But we have to teach the kindergarteners how to read! The public school teachers expect them to be reading when they come to first grade!” I also had been exposed to the nature of F….. schools because my sister’s kids attended there. And, mind you, not just any F….. Schools, but PTC Schools. I was well aware of the competitiveness, academic intensity, and conservative nature of the schools and parents in F…... I will say I was pleasantly surprised that new the principal seemed to want someone with a more reasonable approach. This time, I was GOOD ENOUGH and was offered a first grade position. The experience of being part of the faculty of opening a new school was exhilarating. Not having knowledge of the culture of public schools was probably to my advantage, as I had no preconceptions. The principal held a two-day retreat early in June for the incoming faculty. There was a mix of teachers transferring from around the county. Only two new teachers were hired – me, the non-traditional, and one traditional, a young new teacher just out of school. It was a little daunting walking into the large meeting room at the County Commission offices not knowing a soul but the principal whom I had only met with personally the one time of my interview. Upon entering, there was a table set up with nametags and hostesses. Lo and behold a familiar face greeted me! The counselor for the new school was one of my Kindergarten parents! That helped a little bit. There was coffee and pastries. Many other people seemed to know each other. The principal greeted me too and introduced me to some of the other first grade teachers and the teacher who would be my mentor, a kindergarten teacher. There was polite conversation. Eventually everyone was asked to sit down. It should be noted here that this was this lady’s first position as a principal – and she was opening a new school! She had a special education teaching background and had been an assistant principal at the high school. She was and is a very attractive, outgoing, and charismatic person. She made opening remarks, we had introductions, and talked about some logistics. The name had been officially changed from Grady Ave to Spring Mill, the school building would not be ready to move into until after school started and we were to be housed off campus at two neighboring schools. Ironically, this is where I would return after seven years. One of the first items on the agenda was to choose a mascot name. There were a few choices, but “Suns” won out unanimously. This choice provided boundless opportunities for tie-ins. Then we started some group activities built around what our perceptions of the ideal elementary school would look like, feel like, and act like. As a whole group we merged our ideas and developed a vision and mission statement, and belief statements. Lunch was provided and by the end of the day I felt we had a clear image of what Spring Mill could be, especially its “sunshiny” ambiance. The second day of the gathering we participated in the True Colors* personality profile activity. There was an outside consultant who conducted the process and all of us, including the principal, participated. It was fun and revealing. After we determined our colors, we grouped ourselves and had more team building activities. This was a fantastic way to build camaraderie among the faculty. For years we would refer to our colors. It helped us understand each other. When Susie volunteered to be on the social committee but not the chairman we said of course – she’s an orange! When Janie volunteered to lead Rainbows we said of course – she’s a blue! When Mary volunteered to organize the supply room we said of course- she’s a gold! And when Nancy volunteered to research discipline policies we said of course- she’s a green! Our true colors blended to create a magnificent rainbow. The True Colors process was followed by an afternoon of more logistics and grade level meetings. By the end of the retreat I felt an atmosphere of excitement but it was tinged with the overwhelming task ahead of us all. It was at this point too that I began to learn all the things they don’t tell you about in teacher education. Of course I was a parent with three children in public school, had volunteered many hours, and was at home in the school house, but it’s not the same. Just like working in pediatrics had not prepared me for parenthood, simply being in a school environment had not prepared me to be a teacher. Of course there is the rhetorical question, "Can anything really prepare one sufficiently?” Certainly one cannot be totally prepared, but one could be better prepared than I was. Although I was a non-traditional new teacher, much more mature in years than the typical new teacher, and although I projected confidence, there were things I just did not know. The following paragraphs address just a few of the things I wish I had known. First, the process of employment. After meeting with the principal, she offered me the position. But then she hedged that with “ This is not official yet. There are several steps we have to go through, and will you please not accept any other offer without contacting me first?” I didn’t know the process of board approval, the wrangling that goes on between the principals for good candidates, and the time frame involved. I thought it was just a matter of a couple of days, but it turned out to be several weeks before I signed on the dotted line. This was disconcerting. Especially when I did not act on other interview opportunities. I also did not know that I would not be paid until the end of the first month of school, benefits would not be in place until then, and I would be paid at a provisional rate until all my certification paperwork was cleared through the Professional Standards Commission. Another surprise was the lack of resources, equipment, and materials provided to new teachers. As it turned out, the new school building was not ready for occupancy and we had to start the school year sharing space at two other schools buildings. There were desks and chairs, a teacher’s desk and chair, a chalkboard, a bulletin board and that was it. I was handed an “order form” for supplies, and told I had $100 to spend. I didn’t know how to do the form, where to order from, or what to order. I knew from experience the things I would need would far exceed $100. I basically ordered construction paper, drawing paper, and writing paper. I set about shopping – scissors, pencils, markers, crayons, paints, glue, paste, posters, a stapler and staples, tape dispenser and tape, legal pads, note pads, sticky notes, paper clips, pushpins, rolls and rolls of masking tape, names tags, bulletin board sets, etc. Even the most basic tool of early primary grades, the alphabet that goes on the wall over the chalkboard, was not provided. I had to buy that too! I’m sure I spent well over $1,000 dollars getting set up. It wasn’t because we weren’t in our building. It’s just the way things are. Looking back, it would have been nice had my mentor teacher gathered a few things for me from among the faculty. We are now encouraged to do this as mentor teachers. I also wish someone had told me about all the meetings!!!! What precious little planning time I had seemed to always be taken up with meetings. “Specials” time for the students, art, music, PE, was the classroom teacher’s planning time. For first grade this was 35 minutes. Consider that in 35 minutes, there is just enough time to walk your class to the specials location, go to the restroom, go outside the building and walk to the office trailer to check your mailbox, complete and turn in attendance folders, maybe make a phone call, maybe turn in some copy requests, and be back at the specials location to pick up your class. If there is a meeting scheduled during your planning time there may be no time for any of this. Is thirty-five minutes time enough to write lesson plans? Browse for interesting activities? Decorate a bulletin board? Gather and check out extra books from the library? Complete necessary forms and documents? Of course not. What wasn’t done in planning time was done after school hours – again, if there were no meetings. What kind of meetings? Faculty, grade level, committee, parent conferences, student support team, individual education plan for special education students, professional development, and special projects. These are all at the local school level. Then there are county level meetings too. Also on this same subject is the attendance at after hours school events. No, teachers are not required to be present at every PTA meeting or student extracurricular activity, but it is strongly encouraged. Related to this too is the “SST” process, and the process involved in obtaining special services for students. I didn’t even know what an SST (Student Support Team) was when I started. And I didn’t know it could take an entire school year, if then, for a student to begin to receive any services for which they were determined to be qualified. Another thing I didn’t know was how little it seemed to matter about what the classroom teacher thought the students needed. If the evaluation ended up saying they didn’t qualify for services that was it. Of course the results of the evaluation depend heavily on the evaluator . How is it comparable to take aside a student and put them one on one in a small quiet location for a brief period with an adult to complete assessments instead of taking the word of a teacher who deals with the student all day, in a classroom of 28 kids, and sees constantly what the student is producing or how he is behaving? To this day I am still dismayed by this process. As of this writing, the process is about to get even more protracted through a process called tiers of intervention. Yes, there are regulations for special education and there should be, but if you asked most regular education classroom teachers the regulations are stifling for getting the students the help they need. Then there are all the little cultural aspects of the school. Who eats lunch with who, what you should or should not talk with the principal about, what teachers you tiptoed around, how to sweet talk the maintenance staff, the paraprofessionals, the office clerks, the media specialist, the cafeteria ladies. These are the things that probably can’t be taught ahead of time, but some mention of treading carefully until you are aware of the politics would have been appreciated. A final “wish I had known” was the amount of time and effort that goes into the startup of a new school year. Although I did have what was called a “September Experience” in my teacher education program, it was inadequate to cover the realm of responsibilities associated with a new school year. With only three days of preplanning and some of that taken up with (you guessed it!) meetings, it is impossible to get a classroom in presentable condition for “meet the teacher” or “open house.” Again, if you ask most regular classroom teachers they would tell you they usually need a minimum of about a week to get ready, depending on if they’ve had to move classrooms or are changing grade levels. Many teachers I know, myself included, probably spend about two weeks in addition to their paid preplanning days getting ready to start up. So there I was, with a room set up as beautifully as I could afford and considering we were using cast off furniture, supplies, and equipment. I had a stack of TEs (Teacher Editions), and a roster of 28 students, and about a million forms. Actually, there are anywhere from five to ten forms per student that must be completed, sent home, and records kept for their return. Oh yes, I did have a paraprofessional: for three days. She actually had a master’s degree but for some reason , which should have been the tip off, she had not obtained a teaching position. As it turned out she was offered a job in a neighboring county in the midst of preplanning. I ended up with no parapro for the first three weeks of school. Although every other kindergarten and first grade teacher had their own parapro, no help was forthcoming. Of course the other teachers, none of whom were beginning teachers, desperately needed their parapros every single minute of every single day. Granted, I did not know to specifically ask for help. I was simply in survival mode at this point. As do most teachers, I ask the students, parents, and even God for forgiveness for that first year. Actually, I don’t think I did that bad of a job. As I said before, it wasn’t the teaching that was overwhelming – it was all that other stuff. I was fortunate to be in the building at the school that was hosting us until our building was ready. Many classes were in trailers. School had begun in mid August. We were told the building might be ready after Labor Day. Then it was maybe mid October. Then Thanksgiving break, Christmas break, Martin Luther King Jr. Day, and President’s Day. In the meantime, we were constantly reminded we were the guests (actually at times I felt like we were the unwanted stepchildren). It was a big favor for the media center to allow us to use their resources, we had to work playground time around the host school, and even using their teacher’s lounge seemed an imposition. We were required to eat lunch in the cafeteria with our students. The move to the new building did not come through until March 17, 1996. Moving while maintaining classes was a challenge. I have to give tremendous credit to the Parent Teacher Organization and our administration. They provided for substitutes, moved materials, and helped with set up in the new building. For us teachers all of this was done in addition to our regular school days teaching! The building itself was worth the wait. It was beautiful, the Sun theme shown throughout and the bright primary colors were cheerful and bright. There was one especially funny incident. The students were bused over for a preview the day before the move. The building sits at the bottom of a slope and only the roof is visible as the buses make their approach to the bus loop area. The building has a bright red metal corrugated roof. One of the kids yelled out, “Hey look! We’re going to school at Pizza Hut!” We got a kick out that, but the building was great, as shiny as a new penny. We were to discover there were a few drawbacks to having this great new facility. People tend to think F…. County is extremely wealthy. It does have a high per capita income – about this time period it was the highest per capita income county in the state. What I did not know (another lesson I learned) was this did not translate to the schools having plenty of moolah. Practically all funds come from residential property tax. With few low-income students, there are few of the funds to which more needy systems are entitled. To this day colleagues from other counties cannot believe F….. County teachers do not have laptop computers. We only have intranet access at the school buildings. Our technology is always playing catchup. This was extremely evident when our school opened. Most classrooms did not have a single computer. It was two years before I had a classroom computer that had to double as my teacher computer. Our library was growing, but there were nowhere near the amount of resources of established schools. Supplemental teaching materials were non-existent, except for those personal materials of veteran teachers. This brings us to another lesson I learned. Although the school faculty had been pulled together from veteran county teachers and only two new teachers, there were still alliances between individuals. When it came to sharing, there was very little. Partners and long time friends carefully guarded their years’ buildup of extra supplies, supplemental resource materials, and lesson plan ideas. For example, although kindergarten and first grade classrooms were equipped with a dramatic play center including play stove, sink, and refrigerator, there was no child sized table and chairs other than the regular classroom tables. I asked my mentor teacher to keep a look out for any extra tables or chairs. After mentioning this a couple of times, she put it bluntly. “You don’t understand. There are no extras. No one is going to give up anything. If you want the table and chairs you’ll need to come up with it on your own.” Ka ching! More spending. Not just the table and chairs but baby dolls, play food, and play dishes too. Another lesson I learned had to do with staff development, as it was called in those days. As new teacher I had been required to take several classes. The system was placing a great deal of emphasis on using the multiple intelligences approach in teaching. I was invited by my professor/friends from Mercer to present with them at a conference with that theme in Birmingham. Of course I wanted to present, and I wanted to learn more about the topic. I especially wanted to take part in the on site visit that was offered to a “Multiple Intelligences” school. I did not think taking two days off to do this was unreasonable. Little did I know! When I asked the principal about it she said turn in the duty leave request and see what happens. I had never completed one of these forms, but I did it anyway and sent it in. Of course it was denied. She reminded me I did have three personal days I could take to do this if I so chose. Like an idiot, that’s just what I did! Not only did I have to pay all expenses, but two of my days were used up in the fall. I have since learned that if your the principal really wants you to attend something, they can usually make it happen. If it’s just a case of your own choosing, you can forget any support. One period of my first year teaching would result in serious and ongoing issues concerning my health. My feet and knees always hurt and I was exhausted by the end of each day. I attributed this to being at work on my feet full-time. I would come home and collapse in the recliner. My own mother would say “normal people aren’t this tired after a day’s work. What wrong with you?” Of course, I interpreted that to mean she just thought I was lazy. Well, one day at lunch one of my colleagues said, What is wrong with your hands? I looked down and both of my hands were swollen up like clubs. I did feel feverish and achy. I said I didn’t know, do you think I should go to the doctor? My first thought was something heart related, because I had seen how people with congestive heart failure retained fluid and we had a strong history of heart disease in my family. My colleague emphatically said GO to the doctor TODAY. I went to the emergency clinic that afternoon. Of course, they said there were many things the swelling, aches, and fever could indicate, took some blood, and said to follow up with my primary care physician. After a few rounds of appointments, tests, and medications, I was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis. I had no knowledge of the seriousness of this condition. The doctor said I want you to put your feet up twice during the school day for 20 minutes and do not hold anything in your hands heavier than a piece of paper. Yeah right. That is impossible for a primary grades teacher. Eventually medication helped control some of the symptoms and I tried to ignore what it did not control. The year wound down and we settled in. I was thrilled to be told I could teach kindergarten the next year, and the possibility of looping was mentioned. I was very interested in this and it tuned out to be a very rewarding experience. I began to educate myself about rheumatoid arthritis but always with the thought that it would not be a serious issue for me.

Chapter Two: The Real World (Almost)

2008-11-09T22:58:00Z

Chapter Two: The Real World (Almost!) At some point around the time of my “graduation” my mother saw a small, two-inch article in the Atlanta Journal (we always took the Journal, back when it was the evening paper and the Constitution was the morning paper) about a new program that Georgia State was starting. It was in their school of allied health, and the program was to start that fall semester. The program would train physician’s assistants in either mental health or pediatrics. The idea was that at the end of two years another two years of the program would be offered to make it a bachelor’s degree program. It could also serve as pre med. I hadn’t really made any plans for college and had not even taken the SAT. My mother asked me what I thought about this program, would I be interested, and I said I guessed so. I really had no clue. She called and got us an appointment to talk with someone down at Georgia State and we went downtown to the Kell Hall building. The Kell building had at one time been a parking lot. It was enclosed to make a science/laboratory building. The hallways had ramps that cars had once driven up and down. We talked to a woman there and she made arrangements to sign me up. She got me registered for the SAT and my application in to be admitted to the school. By early September, I started classes at Georgia State. I was still just 16 years old. I had never had to work hard to make good grades in school. Learning came easily to me. Things were a little different in the larger world of college. I did okay though, and made mostly Bs and Cs, with an A here and there. Of course I had to take mostly core classes to begin with. After a few months (we were on the quarter system then), the actual program classes began. The program group did their classes as a cohort. We had a variety of students. I was, of course, the youngest. The concept of physician’s assistants had just begun to take shape, and I think was intended for returning Vietnam medics, nurses, and others who would then consider providing medical care in more rural areas that didn’t have the medical resources big cities like Atlanta had to offer. The premise of the program was that physician’s assistants in pediatrics could provide much of the well baby and child services offered in pediatricians’offices. At the time, physician assistants were licensed by the state board of medical examiners, and they were licensed to a particular physician who had to provide a detailed description of what the assistant would be doing in terms of treatments, examinations, etc, under their supervision. I was the 13 th licensed physician’s assistant in the state of Georgia, and the first female. We were taught to know what was normal and what was not. If and when we came across something out of the normal range for regular growth and development the idea was to transfer the care to the doctor. This gave me a valuable background in childhood growth and development, and I believe it was the foundation for me to have a developmental approach to education. We were also taught how to treat minor and routine childhood ailments such as sore throats, colds, and earaches. Another large part of our training was in parent education, especially regarding newborn care. At the age of 19 I completed the program, was married, and thought I knew everything I needed to know! Even if I had wanted to continue, there was a small problem. The next two years of the program were not in place. In fact, Georgia State had decided to revise the program into more of a medical assistant training. This was in response to the more demanding programs that were starting up for physician’s assistants through medical schools, specifically Emory University in the Atlanta area. Emory would not accept any of our Georgia State coursework towards their PA program. I had gotten married on the break between my final winter and spring quarters, then finished and graduated in June. I was in no rush to work and my husband actually did not want or expect me to. The following October I received a phone call from a prominent local pediatrician. He said he had been given my name by one of his employees, a former classmate of mine, was I interested in a part time position, and would I come in for an interview. I said sure. I went in, we talked, and I accepted the job. I had just turned 20 years old. I worked for that practice for two years. During that time a couple of other Georgia State PAs came on board. In actuality, what we mostly did was basic medical assisting, known as typical “back office” work. Eventually we did begin visiting new mothers in the hospital and had a whole spiel we gave about newborn care. I was the one who wrote the information all up into a little booklet we used to be sure we covered everything. It was my favorite part of the work. At some point, the practice wanted full time employees and wanted us to work in the front office too. I really did not want to do that, because I felt it did not utilize my training. I got the idea that the practice also was trying to back the Georgia State PAs down to office assistants and have only the RNs work the back office and hospital visits. I felt this compromised my values and I resigned. This was a precursor of things to come. I went to work for another practice. I started out substituting for their back office nurses and their “phone nurse.” Their phone nurse was out at least two days a week. When their phone nurse left I was not offered that position, and I was specifically told it was because I was not an RN. Once again I felt used. I was good enough to substitute and help them out in a bind, but not good enough for the real job. Ironically I suggested that if I couldn’t be the phone nurse I shouldn’t be doing back office work either and no longer wanted to substitute in the back. They offered me a regular position in the front office and I accepted it, having nothing else on the horizon at that time. It was not for long however, as one of the doctors left the practice soon after and my position, as well as one nurse position, were eliminated entirely. The office manager encouraged me to apply for unemployment benefits, which I did. About two weeks later I found out I was pregnant. Needless to say, I didn’t look too hard for further employment. Although I did put in applications, who was going to hire someone obviously pregnant? I drew unemployment benefits the entire time I was pregnant. Its time to skip ahead……our son was born in January of 1977. I did not work. I realized that although I thought I had known everything there was to know about babies, I didn’t know enough! I still had great respect for a particular doctor in the first practice I had worked for, and took my baby there. I suggested to him that everyone who worked in a pediatric office should be required to have had a baby! As it turned out, my first “career” and the building block on which all of my other careers would be based had come to an end; but not to worry – the next was about to begin. My husband and I now were attending Second Ponce de Leon Baptist Church, after the disbanding of West End Baptist. We were in a young couples’ Sunday School Class and brought our baby to the nursery. In talking with the nursery coordinator, I learned the church offered childcare for many activities, and they had paid child care workers on staff. They were also planning to start a Mother’s Day Out program. They already had a preschool – a developmental preschool, I might add. The nursery director asked if I would be interested in becoming a paid nursery worker, and then be the official Mother’s Day Out Physician’s Assistant. I agreed. Once again, I went into writing mode. I consulted with my pediatrician, then I developed and wrote health policies for the church programs. When Mother’s Day Out started, the director had me dress in uniform and stationed me in the foyer at a desk. All of the parents (or nannies, and sometimes even chauffeurs!) had to stop by the desk and get a little stamp on their hand before going to their classrooms. The stamp indicated I had looked them over, although somewhat cursorily, and questioned the parents about any possible contagious conditions they may have. During this time, I also had the opportunity to attend many educational workshops about preschool care and education. The Southern Baptist Convention is well known for their developmentally appropriate yet serious approach to early childhood education. I excelled in these workshops and eventually began leading them myself. In due course, I found myself more and more advising parents and instructing preschool caregivers. I also found myself employed by another church in the same capacity. I once again turned to writing and developed a seminar called IDEAS – Infant Development, Education, and Stimulation. I presented this seminar for a fee for groups of parents or on an individual consultation basis. I also presented without charge for community groups. The seminar was based on sound developmentally appropriate activities to do with babies and young preschoolers. A friend at the church with a son the same age as mine was starting a job with a new private school. One career door again was about to lead to another. This friend knew about my experience. She said there might be some opportunity with this new school, and I contacted the director. Suzuki International Learning Center was about to open a private preschool and early elementary school, planning to add grades to the elementary as the children progressed. Unknown to me at the time, the school was actually a tax write off for a private company whose president knew Dr. Suzuki. Yes, THE Dr. Suzuki of the Suzuki method of music instruction. The premise was to apply the principles of Suzuki method music education to early childhood education in a quality childcare setting, especially for the employees of the company. Money was no object. The plan was to start an infant program. I was offered the position of directing the infant program. My son, who was two, could attend the preschool at no charge. What an experience! The director had me meet with the contractors who were renovating the preschool building and just tell him what I wanted as far as the layout of the room. She gave me a credit card and said go buy whatever resources I wanted! She had me interview and hire my own assistant! It was thrilling! This all took place over a summer and the next fall my assistant and I had six babies we took care of in a state of the art facility. It was fantastic. There was an assistant director who was a graduate student at Georgia State in Early Childhood Education, who used our program for some research, and one parent was a doctoral student there, also in early childhood education. This was my first exposure to the possibilities relating to further formal education and what I loved to do. The first year and half went well. During the second year, things began to slide. It was obvious some cost cutting measures were being put into place. The magic carpet was about to crash land. We were told the school was to become self supporting, no longer affiliated with the company, eliminating the elementary division, and would increase class sizes according to day care licensing requirements, which would mean 15 infants for two teachers! Needless to say, I lost my enthusiasm, as a teacher and a parent. It was not terribly critical however, because I was about to take a leave to give birth to a second son. My older son finished four-year kindergarten when my new son was one month old, and I let the director know I did not plan to return. With a child in public kindergarten and an infant, I returned to Second Ponce de Leon’s Mother’s Day Out program after being away for two years. The program was just as good as ever, although there had been a few staff changes in the program and at the church. The nursery coordinator was planning to retire in a few short months. She groomed me and I became director of the program. I directed the program there for about four more years. Numerous other things were going on in my personal life, a husband with a precarious job on the other side of town (Eastern Airlines), a mother retiring, and a third baby boy. I continued at Second Ponce de Leon until my family decided to make a move to the other side of town. We home searched in Clayton and Fayette counties for something that would accommodate our family of five and have an in law suite for my mother. Financial realities dictated our move. Although it was not my first choice, we bought a home just south of Riverdale in Clayton County. We moved in the spring of 1986. We began attending church at another mega Baptist church in the area. The church at that time was undergoing tremendous growth. The preschool director there resigned shortly after we became involved and I obtained the position of Director of Preschool ministries, largely due to my getting to know the newly hired Children’s minister. Marcie Creech was one of those unique people that definitely qualified as a “character.” I loved the job and was able to continue and expand my independent consulting work leading workshops. The position was supposedly part-time. I learned a tremendous amount from Marcie and other full time preschool/ children ministers at national conferences. The position continued to grow in responsibility, and I felt I was actually working full time as a minister. Others on the staff confirmed this. However, whenever it was mentioned that the position needed to be officially full time, the church administration declined to make it so. My frustration grew. The work of being at the church every time the doors were open, and the strain of placing my family under the microscope, for a part-time salary, eventually led me to conclude it simply was not working out. I loved the work, but it became overwhelming. I pursued something similar on a smaller scale, and in the summer of 1991 I found and was offered what I thought was the perfect position. Thus began my work with a Kindergarten program in a nearby community in nearby county known for its “excellent” school system. Excellent meaning high test scores and academic competition. The church weekday program included an actual kindergarten class and preschool classes for two through four year olds. It would only be weekdays during the school year. In fact, our family kept our membership and stayed actively involved at the church where I had previously worked. The former director at the new kindergarten was retiring after many years. The kindergarten had an excellent reputation of preparing children to enter the local system. Ironically, or maybe providentially, my sister had worked there a few years and had decided to go to full time work since her daughter had entered high school, so I had some connection and was aware of the academic climate of the preschool. Of course this grated against my developmentally appropriate philosophy, but I felt I could deal with it. Part of my responsibility as director was to be sure the transition went well from the kindergarten to the public schools. In that capacity I had contact with the then associate superintendent for the local County Board of Education. He came each spring to talk with our parents about the transition and together we monitored our curriculum for the kindergarten class to be sure the students were prepared for first grade, and also for the four year old classes to have a smooth transition to public kindergarten if the parents chose that route. This position also allowed me to continue my consulting and I did go on leading workshops, writing articles, and consulting with preschools. I was beginning to realize this was what I truly loved doing, not teaching the kids but teaching the teachers! And I was good at it! This led directly to the encounter that set me on the path to public education. As I thought about how to make consulting my main pursuit I began to realize I would need more formal education and public school involvement. How to do this was problematic. My family was continuing to struggle financially. I had three children. How could I afford the cost and time required for more formal education? One summer I was teaching a three-day workshop in Macon for the Georgia Preschool Association Conference. At one of the faculty dinners, I was seated next to a gentleman from Mercer University, a Professor of Early childhood Education. Somehow our conversation turned to formal teacher preparation programs and I expressed my desires to pursue that route but I had the extenuating circumstances of needing to continue working while I did so, etc. etc. Then he said the magic words, “What if I could get you in a program whose classes are held at night in a convenient location, you could get financial aide, and you would have a bachelor’s degree in early childhood education, and it could all be accomplished in two years’ time?” Of course I was interested! It was July, and I had to rush some things, but that is how I found myself enrolled in Mercer’s University College Teacher Education Program in August of 1993. I continued Directing at the Kindergarten. At Mercer, most of the students were non-traditional, but I was probably the most non-traditional one of all. Many were paraprofessionals in the public schools. A handful were coming from the military. As one of the most mature, and with so much background knowledge, I did very well. I collaborated with faculty members on projects. I was called on for extra responsibilities. I spent time with professors outside of class. I gained insights that offered me even broader visions of what I could do. I loved the academic collegiate environment. Yet I knew that I would never attain such a position without putting in my time as a public school teacher. After completing the program in May of 1995, I was ready to take the plunge to public school education, or so I thought!

Growing Up and School - Chapter One

2008-11-05T18:23:00Z

Post two in an ongoing blog Chapter One: Going to School *NOTE: All names are pseudonyms I wonder why in the world she is calling me? That was the first thought that started me on this wild ride that has taken me to the highest mountaintop and the lowest trench. I have whirled up and down and all around ever since that phone call, like one of those dryer balls that’s supposed to soften clothes. But first let me back up to explain how I even got to the point of the phone call. As has been most of my life, ambiguities abound in my upbringing and in all the events leading up to the last five years. I grew up in a large city, Atlanta, but close to relatives. Sometimes we all lived in the same house. My parents, as well as the aunts, cousins, uncles, and grandparents who acted as my extended family, were mostly from rural backgrounds. Although there had been one or two educated ancestors ( a great great grandfather was the first mayor of Gainesville, Georgia), nobody in recent history in our family had education beyond high school, and some not even that much. I suppose you could say I was third of five children, but I stuck out in the birth order like a sore thumb – my mother said she actually thought she had the flu. The next sibling up the line a brother eight years older, and the younger sibling a brother down the line five years younger. Tangling the birth order even more was the fact that my living older sister was eleven years older, and my father had not even seen her until she almost two years old due to being in the army during WWII. I say living older sister because there had been a baby girl who was born dead along in there somewhere. It was never discussed much and I’m not sure exactly in the order where she came, but it was far away from me. The oldest sibling was actually a stepbrother who sometimes lived with my grandparents and sometimes with us. He was my mother’s first child. I was a surprise baby. My mother was thirty, having had her first child at age 15. My younger brother, five years younger, was an even bigger surprise. Another piece of kindling to throw into this firey mix I didn’t learn about until I was about grown, was that I actually had a stepsister also, a child of my father’s, that was never a part of our family. I don’t know how the birth order experts would interpret all of this, but I do know that from my very beginning, I was unexpected, and didn’t exactly fit in any exact pigeonhole. From my perspective I have remained this way my entire life. Until I was in second grade we lived in West End. Nowadays it’s called “The West End” of Atlanta. At that time it was a wonderful place. Perhaps the people who live there now also think that, but in the 1950s it was a different place and a different time and world than it is now. I was born in 1953, so that part of my life was all before the civil revolution of the 1960s. There’s another whole book in me about my growing up years. I’ll just put the parts in here that I feel where major influences on my educational experiences. Although my sister tells me now that we were poor, before I even started school I had valuable experiences. Playing with sticks and dirt, games like Mother May I and Redlight, going fishing with aunts and uncles, having doting grandparents right upstairs (and a diabetic great aunt who always gave me raisins), walking to stores, a man living behind us that had chickens, riding those buses that ran on electrical wires downtown, older siblings and cousins always doing something. An aunt who lived in the “country” I would visit every summer, and another aunt who worked in a drugstore and would bring home a Little Golden book every day. Whether they were bought or just brought I don’t know, but I had a stack about two feet high of those books. I firmly believe that’s where my love of reading began. A couple of early school experiences stand out in my mind. I went to Lee Street School on Lee Street in West End. In those days, only big towns like Atlanta had kindergarten. The cut off birth date was not until December 31, so by having an October birthday I started kindergarten at age four. My first official teacher I’ll call Miss Gray. About all I remember about kindergarten was playing with blocks and having graham crackers and milk. It was only half-day kindergarten. My report card at the end of kindergarten said, “Janet is a fine student but talks too much.” That hasn’t changed yet in 50 plus years. Then in first grade I had Ms. Johnson. I remember her as being nice. I distinctly remember reading Dick and Jane, and doing very well. There was a little girl who once made a picture of a fair, in tiny, precise, exquisite drawings, including a roller coaster and ferris wheel. I thought it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen and decided right then and there I wanted to be an artist. My second grade teacher, and last one at Lee Street, was Ms. Harley. One day the principal, Ms. Glasser, came to the room and was speaking to her at the door. Even today, I can plainly hear her words, “ I just don’t know what happened to xxxx (my first name) – all the other xxxxx (my last name) children were so good!” I was shocked because I didn’t know that I wasn’t good! I do remember thinking Ms. Harley was mean. One time she wouldn’t let me go to the bathroom. I had finished my work early, I was smart and usually finished quickly, and she had put me to work cleaning shelves in the cloak room. I asked several times to go to the bathroom and she wouldn’t let me. Well, I really had to go. I was in second grade and was not about to wet my pants. When I was sure nobody was coming into that cloakroom, I politely pulled down my panties and peed on the floor. I went out and told Ms. Harley I had spilled the water she had given me to clean shelves with. I don’t remember her response. In late spring of second grade we moved away from West End. I’m not exactly sure why. We lived briefly in a rented house on Merrill Drive. My Granny (my daddy’s mother), lived about four or five miles away near the intersection of Venetion and Campbellton Roads, just across from what was then the back gate of Fort McPherson, or Fort Mac as we called it. She had what I know now was a “traditional craftsman bungalow”. It had a brick wall all around it. The lot next door had been her garden and orchard. In the past she had owned many acres around there, but had gradually sold it off. She gave this lot to us for a house, and the house was built in the during my second grade year. I finished the year at Lee Street and would be attending Arkwright Elementary when school started back. At our new house and at Arkwright everything felt very new and different. It was a then modern day school, not three story brick like Lee Street. It was modern for those times, but did not have air conditioning. I didn’t really know anybody there, just a couple of acquaintances from Sunday School. I liked my teachers and did very well. There was one teacher who would seat us in class in order of how we did on math tests. It was always a major competition between me and three or four other students. My most memorable moments are doing projects – usually it was constructing something. I remember making a Grecian Villa once and an Antebellum home another time. I don’t know how many of those salt and flour maps I made, but I seem to remember quite a few. I built three kinds of terrariums for a science fair. I started a class newspaper in sixth grade. I wrote a poem that won a citizenship award, got lots of “honors” ribbons, broke my arm in fourth grade, won the spelling bee spelling ‘mayonnaise’, participated in Christmas Pageants, Brownie Scouts, and Safety Patrols. I loved school, especially reading and writing and art. My favorites were the Little House Books, The Secret Garden, and Mrs. Pickering. My parents were not involved at school. My mother was one of the few “working” mothers in those days and rarely came to school events. I also “played” school at home. I had a desk with little workbooks, grades, and everything. But I still always said I wanted to be an artist – specifically an interior designer, when I grew up. I shall never forget my mother saying, at some point, “People like us don’t get to be things like that, maybe you can be a teacher or a nurse.” High school broadened my horizons somewhat. In those days, grammar school was kindergarten through seventh grade, and high school was eighth through twelfth grade. I was zoned to attend Southwest High School several miles from where we lived. I wanted to attend Brown High School; it was in West End, my brothers and sister had gone there, my daddy worked nearer there and could take me, and more of my friends from church, West End Baptist, were going there. That church had become a major influence in my life – but that’s still another book! Anyway, I was granted permission to attend Brown. By now it was 1966. Southwest Atlanta was changing rapidly. The cold war was very real and we were scared to death of radiation. Desegregation had begun, as had white flight. Vietnam was mushrooming, the British music invasion was replacing Elvis, and hippies and flower children were beginning to bloom. When I entered Brown in the fall of 1966 it was about 20% black and about 80% white. I continued to do well academically. I participated in many activities, but my main social life was at church, not school. Although I was in honor clubs, editor of the school newspaper, and elected a class officer I never felt like I was one of the “in crowd.” Not like a cheerleader, anyway. I still wanted to be an artist, but I had been beaten down somewhat and just figured I’d go to school, graduate, work in a store or something, and get married. My educational influences were specific teachers. There were two who specifically encouraged me to consider college, one who supported my desires to be a designer and one who took quite a risk by allowing us to the print a controversial editorial in the school paper about another teacher in her own department. I think of these teachers often and wish I knew how to get in touch with them to let them know I understand now what an impact they had. By the time I was in the eleventh grade, just four years, the world had changed even more dramatically. Friends from church and school had been moving away as the white flight from southwest Atlanta accelerated. Growing up during the sixties was a life changing experience (Another book?). By my junior year, the demographics had completely flip-flopped. The school was about 20% white and 80% black. I don’t remember having strong negative feelings about the race issues. I enjoyed school, made good grades, participated in activities, and had friends both black and white. But I just wanted to get out of school and get on with my life, although I had no clue at that point what that life was to be, but I did have the idea that if I couldn’t be an artist or designer I wanted to something that had to do with children. At the end of the school year, many students found out we could go to summer school, take a couple of classes, and have enough credits to graduate. Almost every one who was white and had enough credits did just that. I don’t know now how I convinced my parents to let me do it, but I did. In August of 1970, at the age of 16 years old, I stood in the office of Brown High School with a crowd of other students, and received my high school diploma.

Introduction

2008-11-04T22:13:00Z

Hello fellow teachers! I am starting this blog to share a writing project on which I have been working since retirement. I was inspired by a book by Tracy Kidder (1989) titled Among SchoolChildren. That book follows a teacher through a year's classroom experiences with her students. I highly recommend this book as enjoyable reading for educators. My draft is similar in that it focuses on a year in a school, but the emphasis is more on the interactions among and between teachers and administrators. I also include some background and post school year reflection. The bulk of the project comes from a year long journal I kept as part of my dissertation research. I am currently in the process of seeking an agent/editor for this book proposal. For obvious reasons I have chosen to keep my true identity private at this time. Please provide any feedback you think may be helpful. I would really appreciate feedback! Also, be sure to share this blog with your colleagues. I look forward to an ongoing dialogue!