Teachermusings: A Horse's Tail (with apologies to George Orwell)

Teachermusings: A Horse's Tail (with apologies to George Orwell): Once upon a time, there was a young filly who lived on a farm. Now this young filly was full of energy and loved to work with other animals ...

A Horse's Tail (with apologies to George Orwell)

Once upon a time, there was a young filly who lived on a farm. Now this young filly was full of energy and loved to work with other animals and the children who lived on the farm. She thought she was making a difference to all those she loved and worked with, and therefore, she willingly accepted more responsibilities around the farm.

As she grew into a mare, the farmer came and told her, "You are costing me a fortune! It's because of you I can't take as good of care of the other animals and my children! I need you to make a few sacrifices." Because the mare loved the others and understood the farmer's frustration, she agreed to a small reduction in her food. At first, she didn't notice she was receiving less food. She still had energy and enthusiasm, and was happy doing her part to help everyone.

But then the farmer came to her the next year and said, "It's because of you that I had to sell a couple animals! You are costing me a fortune! I need you to make a few more sacrifices." The mare willingly agreed again, especially when the farmer promised to make it up to her when his fortune improved.

Again there was a reduction in her oats, which she noticed this time, and there were new responsibilities placed on her. When she tried to object, the farmer told her, "I'm taking care of you; this is the least you can do for me. If you really loved me, the other animals, and my children, you would agree to these." Because the mare liked pleasing her master, she agreed to carry a heavier pack, work longer hours, and take another reduction in her oats. Her master pointed out that there was still plenty of grass, and if she didn't like it at his farm, she could go to another farm. However, the mare liked her farm, but she was beginning to notice her master wasn't so nice. She ignored those feelings of dislike and distrust, and continued working her hardest.

Although there wasn't a reduction in her oats the next year, there were more responsibilities placed upon her, including longer work days, heavier loads to carry, and jobs that had formerly been held by other animals. When she questioned the farmer, she was told, "If you don't like it here, I'm sure the grass is greener somewhere else." By this time, the mare was growing older and she was used to her farm. She quietly walked back to her stall and ate her smaller portion of oats. She was tired, she realized, but she wasn't certain why.

Several years passed, and although her oats portion improved, it wasn't the same amount she had been promised by the farmer. He claimed he still didn't have the  money for her greater share of oats. Her responsibilities also grew, which she didn't think was possible, and the farmer began putting her through new tests. She was to jump a fence, which was constantly raised; she was to run faster, although the goal posts seemed to move each time she came close; and her packs were weighted heavier each time they were placed on her. She wasn't sure she could bear it, and she wasn't clear as to why. Why was it heavier? Why were her oats portions, albeit a little larger, still insufficient to fill her each night?

The mare was out running laps and jumping higher and higher fences one day when she passed a puddle of water. She stopped for a drink and noticed her ribs were showing, her coat was dull, and there were bald patches on her sides. Finally she understood; more work, more responsibility, less food were all leaving their marks. No more could she do her job sufficiently. That night, before the mare was in her stall, she hear nickering nearby. When she turned her head, she saw a new horse, younger and more energetic, at the next farm. The horse was given all the answers to its tests before it was tested. The trainer wasn't very good, fresh and inexperienced, but filled with energy for his new job. The mare shook her head and went to her stall.

Finally, one day, after new and improved tests had been scaffolded for her to implement, the mare was finished. She gave up the fight. The next day, a truck pulled into the driveway, loaded up the mare, and drove her away. The farmer had just invested in a new slaughterhouse, and she was his first "client."

It just goes to prove that if something is starved of its necessities and tremendous, virtually impossible responsibilities are placed on it, somewhere, someone can make money from it.

Standardized Testing? What's the harm?

I loathe standardized testing. Not only do we give up instruction time for multiple days, but the wear and tear on students and teachers is sad. Since the passage of No Child Left Behind, I've proctored about a thousand hours of CSAP, TCAP, PSAT, ACT, PLAN, EXPLORE, PARCC. Our kids begin taking tests in third grade, and they take them each year through (until recently) 11th grade. 9 years!!! What profession requires 9 years of testing, 3-6 hours a session?

I loathe standardized testing for what it's reduced: thinking, problem solving, creativity, intelligence. It's also reduced extracurricular necessities like art, music, and phys ed. There are stories of schools reducing recess so students can practice more for state tests. How does this produce 21st century learners? When asked to form an opinion, many of my students cannot do so. They'll ask for multiple choice over essays because they're "easier". My students do well with multiple choice, unless there's complexity and inference within the questions. Then they don't know what to do. I have students with diagnoses of 'text anxiety,' and their parents demand 504 plans with unlimited time so their kids can finish a test without a panic attack. 17 years ago, there were few kids on 504 plans for test anxiety because we didn't have so many darned tests.

Critics think people like me don't like standardized tests because we don't want to be held accountable for student learning. Not true! I plan varied lessons each class to reach a variety of learners. I work hard at my content so students will be better readers, writers, thinkers, and speakers. A single measurement...a standardized test...does not assess what I do in my classroom. Nor does it show student growth accurately; it simply demonstrates how well a student can fill out a test form.

I loathe standardized testing because teachers are the only ones held accountable for the test results. We are. There is no student responsibility with test scores; we send home forms that parents might look over and then toss. Schools are rated on their test scores; teachers are evaluated on their test scores. But what about students who don't try? Who don't care? What about students who are in special education programs and don't participate in regular curriculum? They take the tests, and teachers are held accountable for their scores. What about non-native English speakers? Kids who've just moved to this country and need special services? They take those tests and we're held accountable for those scores.

I wish parents would wake up and actually research these tests. I wish parents would opt their children out and pressure their politicians to vote to eliminate the need for so much testing. However, our politicians are too busy voting for their lobbyists, honoring their commitments to ALEC and the Koch brothers, and playing with our children's futures.

 The lessons our students are learning are not preparing them for their futures, unless their futures encompass sitting for long periods of time, bubbling answers. And until our parents truly understand what is really happening to their children, we will continue to to be subjected to the will of our politicians.

I work in the 'real world' too

As  worked with students in previous years, I would tell them that in the 'real world' things work differently: rarely can you turn in late work without consequences; it's important to follow all directions; your parents can't call you in to excuse you from work; and it's necessary to take responsibility for yourself.

However, I've come to realize that the world of school is the 'real world' for my students. It's where they learn foundational information to move forward. It's where they make and lose friends, learning how to get along with others. It's where they learn how to function as part of teams; and it's where they learn responsibility.

Yet, there are plenty of critics who make statements like, "“In the real world, compensation is always tied to performance." Excuse me? The real world? Where do I work? I'm pretty sure teachers, like other professions such as first responders, nurses, social workers, also work in the real world. 

I am curious as to what the 'real world' looks like! What is its definition? I'm not sure education critics have any clue as to what the 'real world' looks like for educators. It's not like we work in a world with rainbow ponies that fart glitter and candies out their bottoms. 

What about administrators who deal with budget issues, staffing, evaluations, and student discipline? Does it count as the 'real world' when an administrator works to save a suicidal student's life only to have said student commit suicide? What about guidance counselors? Do they live in a world of pretend? The guidance counselors I know are busy helping students graduate on time, find a career and/or educational path, counsel students who are struggling mentally, emotionally, and/or academically. That's not the 'real world?'

What about teachers? We're not sitting in our rooms playing Solitaire or computer games; we're working with students, counseling them, answering emails and phone calls, setting and maintaining SMART goals, planning, grading, worrying about particular students. Let me say this: until an educational critic has to call Social Services because someone they care about (student) is being abused at home, you cannot tell me I don't work in the 'real world.'

And coaches? I don't think they're dialing their bookies or smoking cigars in their offices. Instead, they are teaching young people the importance of integrity, teamwork, and caring about others. Granted, they do get to wear comfy clothes and sneakers all day, but without our coaches, where would some of our young people find love, acceptance, and others who believe in them?

The fallacy about tying teacher compensation to 'real world' expectations leaves out the human aspect: students are not product nor are they machines. They are unpredictable and volatile. There is no 'bottom dollar' where humans are concerned. 

I'm sure in the real world, bosses don't have to bandage bleeding fingers, or give a damn about someone who's struggling with the work or with their identity. It's easy to eliminate those who don't work as employers want them to (not something teachers can do). 

Granted, I don't make a profit for some corporation, but I do make a difference. And that's real enough for me.

My students are my best defense

My students are my best defense against aging, sickness, and depression. That's a lot of baggage to place at their feet, but it's true.

At conferences last night, I realized--for the first time, really--that I am about the same age as their parents. And yet, I don't think I look as old as their parents (maybe it's my vanity?!). My students keep me feeling young because they share their vernacular with me; I can speak 'teenager.' Just as they spend time trying to outsmart me, I have to spend time keeping up with them, which keeps my brain sharp. I'm around the latest clothing trends, music tastes, and technology. All of which keep me feeling young, and if I feel young, I am young.

Cancer has sucked me dry, but going to school has motivated me to keep a positive attitude, to walk to keep my energy up, and to seek alternative treatments so I can go to school. The kids, overall, have been supportive, kind, and caring. They've made me hats, blankets, given me cards, and showered me with love. The other day, I told them it was their fault I was doing so well; it was because of them (and my family) that I had a reason to get better. It's true. Without them, I would have sat home, feeling sorry for myself. I've also been exposed to all sorts of nasty germs, thanks to them, which has successfully built up  my immune system. I'm a fairly healthy person, thanks to them.

Depression and anxiety are ever-present, and many times caused by my students. I worry about them, I stress over them, and some of them make me anxious. Yet I can be present for them, support them, and shower them with a teacher-love that lets them know they are safe and cared for in my room. I can't control the world around them, but for 90 minutes every other day, they can come to my room and know someone loves and accepts them as they are.

My students are my best defense, and although there are plenty of times I still wonder why I teach, I have teens who lift me up, challenge me, and care about me.

No Fair!

Childhood was a time when I learned the world wasn't fair. I believed in equality for all, and I was good for tattling when I felt injustices took place. Instead of righting injustice, I was the one who was in trouble for being a 'tattletale.'

45 years later, I feel the same way. I've learned not to be a tattletale, but there is still a part of me that wants to right injustice. It's one of the reasons I became a teacher. I saw a tremendous amount of what I considered injustice when I was a student, and I thought I could become a positive influence in the lives of others.

However, with the current state of public education, I'm not sure I can right the injustices anymore. I'm not sure I want to try. Every time I turn around, there is another teacher in trouble, another law passed meant to undermine teachers, another something taken away from teachers just to make our jobs more difficult.

Children are more than test scores, more than the latest greatest technology. Billionaires have decided to do what they think is best for our children, but they are hobbling what we know words. In an effort to make money, corporations are creating charter schools with prescribed curriculum, churning out tens of thousands of students who will not be able to think on their own.

I fear for our education system. And what is happening right now is a far greater injustice than I'll ever  be able to right.

Teaching is a calling...and in need of advocacy

Other than my dolls and my baby brother, my first students were in Special Education. In fourth grade, I was chosen to go to the SpEd building (it was the 1970s, and SpEd was a separate building; a log cabin on the outside, a bright, cheery, busy room on the inside) and work with various students. I liked the kids; they were sweet to me and fun to be around. By sixth grade, my students were kindergartners, and my job was to work with them on the alphabet and reading. I loved their happy smiles and willingness to work with me. Some of my happiest times were in elementary school, teaching younger students.

One of my natural abilities is to help others make sense of what they're reading or help them figure out what and how they want to write. Kids have generally felt comfortable talking with me, sharing their concerns and problems, even looking for advice from me. It's an awesome feeling, knowing I'm making a profound, albeit brief, impact on someone's life, thinking, and skills. Even now, as old as I am, old enough to be the mother of my students, kids seek me out when they need an adult to listen to them and/or give them advice.

What troubles me isn't just the Jeffco School Board majority; what troubles me is the lack of respect given to the education profession by society as a whole. From politicians, to religious leaders, to the average person, people hold education in disdain, and they seem to hate teachers. Sure, there were teachers I didn't like when I was growing up, but I knew they were there to teach, and it was my job to learn. Now, it's like a battle between students, teachers, politicians, school boards, parents, and society in general. Fun phrases like, "Those who can't, teach;" or "I hated my high school;" or "I hated my _______ teacher," make me cringe. Negative run-ins with a few don't mean the entire profession is like that.

My third grade teacher, Mrs. Henderson, really didn't like me. I never knew why. She always seemed mean to me, refusing to call on me in class, not letting me read aloud, not letting me go to the bathroom when I really had to go. I wet myself during the ITBS, and then she was mean to me on the way to the office; I was crying and she was lecturing me about wetting myself. During the year, I caught the flu; after a seven-day absence, I just wanted to get back to school, but when my mother tried to bring me to class, Mrs. Henderson wouldn't let me in the room. She told my mom to bring a doctor's note before I was allowed to come back to school. She was hateful, but should my judgment of ALL teachers rest on my interactions with Mrs. Henderson?

NO! Because I had many other teachers who loved me, respected me, cared about me. Teachers who would stay late each day after school to make sure I understood my math homework for the evening. Teachers who encouraged me to pursue what interested me; teachers who challenged me. Over the course of my 13 years in public school, I can count on one hand the teachers I disliked...Ms. Green who was my math teacher, for example. I'd ask her questions, and she would embarrass me in front of the entire class. Then I'd get teary-eyed, and she'd ridicule me as well. But Mr. Trembath, who seemed really scary, would patiently explain math problems to me until I seemed to get them. Mr. Cisneros, who seemed to hate us all, ruined Old Man and the Sea for me; but Mrs. Samson restored my love of literature. And Mrs. Cormier, she was by far the most wonderful history teacher I ever had.

What all these school reformers seem to ignore is the passion teachers bring to their craft. I am lucky enough to work with tremendously talented teachers, but school reformers, including our school board and superintendent, will never know that. They are too busy persecuting teachers for the ills of society. And because teachers are not good at advocating for themselves, they allow these myths to perpetuate and do nothing to dispel them. Now, however, is the time to advocate for ourselves as we would advocate for our students. We would not allow our students to be bullied by others, but we will allow it for ourselves. Now is the time to stand up, to raise our voices in unison, to let people know we love what we do; we love our students; and we will not let education 'reformers' have their perverse way with us or our kids.