When in Rome...

...one has to *learn* what the Romans do!

After this first week at school, I've figured out a few things about myself. Surprising, because I didn't spend the past year actively asking myself questions about teaching, debating how I'd like to spend my free time, or building face-to-face collegial ties. I also didn't anticipate how my unique traveling circumstances (I'm now working with my fifth principal in my fourth school district in my third state since 2003) would affect my mood, my tone, and my attitude when I was once again hired to teach with a school staff that for the most part (other than the new hires that joined me this year) has remained the same for a while now.

My first ten years of teaching were spent in the same school, at the same grade, with roughly the same colleagues. The nurse, lead custodian and music teacher's positions changed (along with a new principal) but the rest of us were a long term team, quirks, beliefs about education and all. Teaching in a small community, any teachers who transferred in were already known to everyone, and those who left visited often. A comfort zone was created by this long term teaching commitment that I have not felt again since leaving Alaska. Comfort zones are more common for those who stay in one place longer than a year.

Easy to understand since I spent one year teaching in New Mexico, one year in Kansas, and took last year off while we were stationed in Texas. I haven't been anywhere long enough to settle into a school's routine, a staff's easy banter in the lounge, a community's familiar scenery. On this latest educational stage, many roles are the same (librarian, kindergarten team, cafeteria staff, administration, special education teachers, custodians etc.) along with some new characters (21st Century Classroom teacher, Educational Dome Theater instructor, Compass Lab facilitator), and the goals we all work toward achieving are student focused and are seemingly educationally sound. Contemplating my new environment, I'm reflecting on my own perceptions, not knowing anyone well enough yet to be able to guess with any certainty what, if anything, is running through their minds as they interact with me.

For someone with over a decade's worth of teaching experience, a person who has taught in very ethnically, religiously, geographically and socio-economically diverse locations, I've been asking what must seem like silly questions this past week, to include "What do the alarms sound like at this school?" My principal was kind enough to let us listen to short bursts of the tornado alarms, but several colleagues have looked at me like I've lost my mind when I've asked for a description of the sounds since, as hearing those alarms and dealing with them is second nature for teachers who have been here longer than a year. Alaskan schools have fire alarms. No tornado alarms. No earthquake alarms, nada. Just fire bells. In the newer schools, there are probably some computerized alarms with flashing strobes, but that's it. In the New Mexico school I worked at, there were no tornado alarms. No door alarms. No intruder-on-campus drills (I'm sure that has changed since). In my previous Kansas school, the fire bell and tornado alarm did not sound the same as they do here. Some of you have sirens, some of you have bells, some of you have "tornado watch" beeps that are different from the "tornado imminent" howls- and at least in this school, you have a new teacher who has not heard them before. Thank you for your patience, new colleagues. Hopefully you feel you have a new partner that wants to be as prepared as possible, so she's asking.

One school had designated door holders during alarms, another stressed that no kindergarten student should hold the doors because they might get trampled, or get scared and be left inside, and another school insisted that all students file through the doors pushing the bar and not looking back, trusting that the next student in line would also be facing forward, arms at the ready to push the door open as s/he walked through in a quick but orderly fashion. Cafeteria routine? In Alaska, my students ate in the classroom. In New Mexico, they ate in the cafeteria which was in an annex building right next to ours. In Kansas School Number One, the gym and cafeteria were the same place. In Alaska, children had two choices, "home lunch" or "school lunch." Same in New Mexico and Kansas School Number One. Here, my students have the following choices: entree one, entree two, peanut butter and jelly sandwich, bagel and yogurt, OR home lunch. Wow. And if you've taught kindergarten before, you know exactly how that routine goes during the first week of school: "I changed my mind, I want something else," or "I thought I had lunch but this whole lunch sack is really filled with SNACK," or "I don't have to do the lunch chart because I'm not hungry." Throw in a few "I brought home lunch but I want pizza now," or "but I drank the three juices Mom gave me and now I want milk" and you can imagine that every so often, too much of a good thing is NOT a good thing.

Routines for duties, who walks whom back, who escorts students to buses, who picks up kids from the day care, who walks, who takes attendance and lunch count (I have an aide this year), who does copies, what hours can we be in the building over the weekend, and is it the class list on yellow, the red or green paddle flags or the class list on a clipboard we use for emergencies at this school? Does the principal want composite data sheets on students' beginning-of-the-year screening assessments, copies of e-mail communication that *might* get tricky depending on how parents interpret them, and lesson plans on a weekly spread page or in daily list format? Do the staff members at this school view kindergarten teachers as teachers or glorified babysitters? Do we sit wherever we want to during staff meetings or do we sit at tables by grade level? How clique-ish are the teachers? I can't tell you how I *wish* I could do a selective brain dump on the routines and need-to-know info I've had to memorize and learn from my previous teaching locations so I can keep this new set straight! Who uses the hallway potties and when since my classroom shares a single seat girls' toilet and a single seat boys' toilet with another entire classroom (talk about bad planning that someone should have caught when looking over the blueprints!), and though handrails are available down ramps we use to get to other parts of the school, why are most teachers encouraging their students NOT to use them while walking? I know, I know. I'll "get it" this year. Time will give me the info.

Unless Uncle Sam decides to move us AGAIN.

We Interrupt Our Regularly Scheduled Blog...

... to bring you a review of my day!

All of today's blogging time was set aside for mother/daughter eye exams, grocery shopping, drug screening/testing for my employment, and a visit to my new school to pick up keys and drop off classroom materials. I think it's time for me to post some drafts in the queue just in case, but until then:

* I still don't care for the blowy-puffy-here's-grit-in-your-eye procedure that optometry techs seem to enjoy watching patients endure at the beginning of an eye exam. What *is* that thing, anyway? Is my eye dusty? Are you testing me on my blink and flinch coordination? Are you checking my mascara's and eyeliner's staying power? My eyes water just thinking about it!

* I've been experiencing some confusing encounters at the grocery store I've been frequenting here since our arrival. It's on post, and each time I've gone, I've been approached by older ladies and gentlemen asking if my kids are "ready for VBS." Huh? Each time their table has been surrounded by other people, so I've only been asked that one question before the greeter has turned his or her attention to someone actually interested enough to stop and look at their display. It wasn't until this morning's trip that I finally saw the table itself- and realized that VBS stands for "Vacation Bible School," not "very big shoes" or "very bratty siblings." Enough with the abbreviations folks. I get it with my husband's military-jargon, I get it with all sorts of edu-speak, and I see it as I try to figure out just what my daughter is asking me for when she text messages me on her phone.

Spell...the...whole...thing...out...please. And if you won't, please just step aside as I maneuver my way through the store with my thrilled-with-the-acoustics-toddler to get a loaf of bread, a container of milk, and a stick of butter.


* Drug screening. Today was the first time *this* kindergarten teacher has had to walk in to a medical facility, surrender her i.d., allow someone else to lock up her purse and do the little aim-for-the-plastic-cup-routine with an audience standing right outside the bathroom door. Oh, and I wasn't allowed to flush the potty afterward either. Yep, everything had to be as...witnessed...as possible. Wow. Just...wow.

* Yes indeedy, I did get the key to my classroom today! Dear Daughter and I were so excited, so pleased, so impressed with what we saw as we walked through the school, peeking into classrooms, lounges, cafeterias, etc... and when we got to see my room, I just about cried. This is the first time I've been given a classroom that is fully supplied. FULLY. I guess I'm no longer at a Title I school, and the difference leaves me in awe, and saddened. Standardization across the nation? Honeys, it isn't happening.

The classroom is beautiful. Most of it is appropriate for kindergarten, though my teacher's desk is fixed to the wall as part of a built-in, and it seems I can't lower it to a better height for use as the reading table. The students' coat cubbies are actually closets with doors (another interesting safety issue) and I have tons of storage for manipulatives, books, etc. I'll be sharing a bookroom and a set of student bathrooms with one of my colleagues by way of two "walk-through" areas.

* I've brought home a school binder that seems to have our policies and procedures explained in it, but getting them committed to memory is becoming more difficult with each new move I make. Every school has its own set of rules, procedures, routines. The first one used clipboards for fire drill and stranger danger drills, the next had little red and green paddles we were to hold up outside during a fire alarm along with scrap pad sign-off sheets that had to be turned in to the office after each drill. The next required a binder or notebook with students' names and contact info, while at this, my newest school, who knows what the variation will be. In the past six years, I have had to follow four different rulebooks on school procedures for fire drills, xerox copying, attendance reporting, lunch requests, stranger danger, parent pick-up, field trip requests, classroom newsletters, professional development, parent teacher conferences, NCLB documentation, lesson plan formats and due dates, social club dues and rules, phone etiquette, lunch time and recess procedures, before and after school bus duty, parking space assignments, computer lab sign up, nurse pass procedures, email and internet do's and don'ts, office errands, teacher lounge clean-up, grade level planning times, preps, and tornado safety practice. Talk about a jumble.

*****

Off to bed (this is a late night posting)- I have a classroom to inventory and set up in the morning!

So I'm a Mom AND a Teacher

We've moved to Texas thanks to Uncle Sam, and our eighth grade daughter's first day of school has made quite an impression on her.

She was picked up late by the bus (the driver of which either drove the route incorrectly or followed a pick-up schedule that was changed by the school without notifying parents), which was completely full, three kids per seat. She got to school and dealt with the inevitable "we're a no-nonsense school" attitude from each of her teachers (this is a middle school that had serious "troubles" three years ago, to include drugs, gang violence, etc)... found out that there are six whopping people in band, and she's one of only two girls in it. When she told her English teacher that no, there were no "Mead Composition notebooks" in stores anywhere (yes, we looked at Target, K-Mart, Walmart, and Office Max on BOTH sides of town) her teacher's response was "well, you will get some." Ah, how pleasant. There were so many ticked off parents at the PX and Target today after school because many of their children brought home additional school supply lists from individual teachers after many of us thought the list we had been given at orientation had been rather.... comprehensive. Our daughter brought home TWO additional supply lists, and then gave me the papers she was dreading, the "these are my rules, don't break 'em 'cause these are the heavy duty consequences" notes from teachers who wanted parent signatures on them. I had to correct the note from the English teacher because the grammar she used fell short of "meeting" MY "standards" (remember folks, I'm a kindergarten teacher).

All this after yesterday's El Paso newspaper crowed on and on about the 35-45% of teacher new hires this year that DO NOT HAVE TEACHING DEGREES. They did the quickie "teacher certification" through an "alternative certification program." So bankers, engineers, etc. are now teaching fourth graders. First graders. Kindergartners. High school kids. And I, as a teacher with a degree in Elementary Education, with twelve years teaching experience, and four state teaching licenses, have not been hired. Because I cost 7,000-10,000$ MORE to hire than these "new alternate certification" teachers do. And the main reason the alternate program teachers WANTED to take "substantial pay cuts" by quitting their original vocations to become teachers? SO THEY'D HAVE SUMMERS OFF.

What teacher told any of them they'd get their summers "off?" My Lord. And I'm guessing you wouldn't let a kindergarten teacher who changed her mind and decided she'd "try her hand at being a surgical doctor" into her own practice after obtaining quickie medical licensure in a year-and-a-half's time!

So our girl questioned us as to why all she and the other students heard today were the lists of punitive actions that would be taken against students for infractions such as: being tardy ONCE, "challenging teachers' authority," and not having the exact notebook paper a teacher requested. Apparently many of the teachers at her school have been told that if they yell and appear serious and hard-assed, they have AUTHORITY and will be given RESPECT. Our daughter is *not* a problem child. She aces all of her classes and is a whiz at math. She enjoys humor, kindness, silliness. In short, she's a young girl. More child than woman. And I guess she's outnumbered. She has always had favorite teachers. Favorite subjects. Favorite pieces of music to play. Hobbies, giggles, and still likes Disney pre-teen shows. Up until this year, she has always ENJOYED school. ENJOYED learning. ENJOYED building relationships with those who have helped her on this trek so far. Now she is under the impression that teachers here don't care, don't want to care, and just expect compliance. I'm hoping this will not be a long year.

All this from the school district that has produced seniors in high school (that I have personally assessed during my brief stint at the learning center) that don't know how the prefixes "uni, bi, and tri" change words. Seriously.

We don't want to be stationed here after the SGM Academy is over. And we will certainly not be retiring here.