"Them versus Us"

Perhaps it's a totally new concept: administrators, teachers, parents, and students all working together, as a team, in our educational system. No "them-versus-us" mentality that does nothing but create opposition, miscommunication, hurt feelings, and even underhandedness, but actual teambuilding with truly *shared* goals.

I had an interview yesterday at a local elementary school. It was a school that I had taken my resume to earlier this summer. I didn't hear back from the principal until a week and a half ago, when a one-line email message popped up in my in-box: "If you're still wanting a position, call my cell this morning" with the principal's phone number as the signature. I called the cell phone, reached the principal's voice mail, and left an affirmative "yes I'm available to interview" message with my phone numbers. I received a response yesterday morning in the wee hours in the form of another one-line email message: "Can you come in for an interview at 3:30 today?" I emailed back that yes, I was looking forward to meeting the principal at three thirty, and I then inquired for which grade or position I was to be interviewing. No response. I downloaded the Texas Education Knowledge and Standards (TEKS) parent handout for grades K-5, thought about how I'd respond to the questions I anticipated being asked, and enjoyed the rest of my morning with my toddler.

I arrived at the school fifteen minutes before my interview, and was pleased to find the neighborhood parents friendly, and the staff helpful. The students were full of energy as they left for the day, and smiles abounded. All GREAT signs! I signed in at the office, and was soon joined in the waiting area by another teacher applicant also there to interview. She had no idea which grade or position was needing to be filled either, but we quickly found some mental direction when the secretary made an announcement over the intercom asking that all third grade teachers report to the principal. I quickly reviewed the TEKS handout for third grade, made sure my information packet and resume were ready to go and crinkle/crease-free, and talked with kindergarten students who were waiting to be picked up at the office. (The students were wearing AWESOME "10th Day of School" crowns, I HAD to admire them!)

The other applicant was taken to be interviewed first by the principal, who had quickly introduced himself to us as the third grade teachers congregated. After twenty minutes, I saw the first applicant quickly leaving the building looking a bit down and unsure of herself. I wondered if she had been overwhelmed by the number of people interviewing her, or was experiencing the "I-should-have-said-this" aftershock that tends to hit people after presenting themselves for consideration to a bunch of strangers. The principal came and escorted me to the interview room, and I was pleased to see four cheerful teachers waiting.

I introduced myself, and the principal asked me to tell the teachers a bit about myself before getting started with the interview questions. No doubt you've noticed, dear readers, that I'm a bit of a rambler, so once I realized I'd gotten off on a tangent, I quickly added humor to the mix, and apologized for getting off-subject. The principal expressed that he was in a hurry and that we'd need to get the questions underway, and asked the teachers to begin the interview. I was prepared to answer questions about my teaching experience, my educational background, teaching philosophy, teaching style, views on curriculum and instruction, and demonstrate familiarity with Texas and District specific issues such as the Texas State Standards, the district's testing policies regarding NCLB, and how I'd work with bi-lingual students and staff. I also figured I'd be asked about my discipline policy and questioned as to how many extra duties I'd be willing to take on.

I was asked to describe my teaching style, to detail how I'd ensure all of my students experienced success, who I thought was responsible for discipline in the school, how I communicate with parents, and how I'd treat my grade-level colleagues. Nothing else, so I worked to infuse my responses with pepperings of the other information I felt was pertinent (that wasn't being asked for), and was comfortable adding humorous examples and positive messages about working with collegial groups and teambuilding. The response from the teachers was shared laughter, nods of what I hoped was approval, and an overall relaxing of tone as the interview progressed. The response from the principal however, was nothing short of.... bristling, to include the folding of his hands, and the crossing of his arms in front of his chest.

To round out my answer to how I'd treat my colleagues, I responded that I would treat my colleagues the way I treat my students, as "whole people." I may need the E.L.L. teacher's help with some of my students, but I'll remember that when working together in my room, or on committees, or after-school projects, we ALL have families to get home to, so it's important to work effectively so that we're not living, eating, breathing and sleeping at school all the time. And hey, even if I don't get to work with everyone on the staff as much as I'd like to, I'm happy to bring cookies to the staff room once a quarter for staff support!

Lots of additional smiles, laughter, nods and "thank goodness'" from the teachers, immediatly followed by the principal indicating the interview was over saying "Well, I just feel I need to close this interview by mentioning the following. This is a DIFFERENT school. Teachers HERE give 150% and that's what makes us effective. You might want to consider that if you are hired to teach here."

Wouldn't you know it, I had a response.

"Thank you Principal ______________, I see exactly where you're coming from. Since I've taught for twelve years, been hired by three school districts, and have received glowing letters of recommendation from each one, it's obvious that I take my job very seriously and I'm good at it. But my own childrens' band concerts, volleyball games, and science fair projects are just as important as my students, so I won't be staying here until nine p.m. each evening. Teachers who sacrifice their marriages and their families to martyr themselves for their students are, in my opinion, living grossly unbalanced lives."

He thanked me for my time, stood up, and walked me to the door, at which point I gave him my resume and information packet. I'm sure they were tossed in the trashcan as soon as I walked out the door.

Something tells me I won't be teaching third grade at that school this year, which is a shame because I rather enjoyed the dynamic I experienced in my short time with the other teachers and I liked the feel of the school environment. But I had done a little homework before the interview, and found out that this was the principal's first year at this particular school, and that the school's science scores fell below the state's average, and that the school, while "academically acceptable" hadn't received public kudos or accolades for a whopping year. None of these details bothered me until experiencing the principal's reaction to my responses during the interview.

First-year principals, like first-year ANYTHINGS, are eager to prove themselves. In today's Blue Ribbon/Gold Star/Sparkley Crown School competition, and with the requirements set by NCLB, I understand that administrators, like teachers and students, are pushed to perform, and pushed to produce the results that have been labeled as "indicators of success." But meeting administrators that desire the banners, the photo ops and the publicity at the cost of the well-being of their teachers bothers me.

I'm qualified. I do a good job. As a rather simplistic job description, I'm paid to require other people to think. But I'm tired of meeting administrators who don't like the fact that I myself have opinions and am willing to share them, especially when I'm asked what they are in an interview. I don't challenge administrator's authority, nor do I disrespect their role, but I'm very clear on what I think that role is: school administrators are employed to make sure I can do MY job effectively for our students. A principal might hire me, but it's his or her job to provide safety plans, collegial group time, and various other resources for any student and/or teacher support that is necessary. Principals are guides, to help me and my colleagues achieve not just OTHER peoples' goals for our school and district, but the goals we set for ourselves and our students. Principals should be advocates not only for students, but for teachers, support staff, and other paraprofessionals whose jobs make student learning possible each day.

This "them versus us" is getting old. Am I really the only person who feels this way?

Redundancies, Waste, and the Ridiculous: Our “New” Standards

I am a fan of efficiency. I appreciate easy systems or routines that can be used regularly with a lot of success. Why? Because I’m a natural clutz. I’m forgetful, I tend to over-schedule myself, and I have a lot of interests. I have friends, I have family, I have colleagues and co-workers. I have students and I have responsibilities as the spouse of a deployed soldier. I have a cat. For these reasons, I like things to not only have a place, but to be IN their place. Keys on the shelf by the door. Space in my closet for a week’s worth of ironed work clothes. A load of laundry put in the washer in the morning and put in the dryer when I get home from work. A chore list for my daughter. A month’s worth of classroom activities marked on a calendar that is sent home in advance so parents can plan their donations of volunteer time and school materials. A binder of all of the materials and information a sub would need if called at the last minute. A “Star Helper of the Day” who can help pass out papers, distribute lunch cards, and cheerfully help with any other tasks that need to take place at school.

At a previous school district, my systems and routines had to be modified in order to accommodate the “systems” already in place at the school where I taught. The best description of the school’s “systems?” There was a form for the form to request the form you needed. No, I’m not kidding. There was the attendance form. The lunch count form. The fire drill form. The nurse form. The materials request form. The Xerox copying form. The laminating form. The consumables form. The furniture form (which was not the same as the inventory list, which was yet another form). The sub request form. The sub evaluation form. The “missing curriculum materials” form. All of the Special Education forms. The report cards, the cum folder forms (in addition to the cum folder itself), the DIBELS forms, the parent volunteer request forms. The teacher evaluation forms, the student assessment forms. Detention forms. Repair forms. Behavior modification forms. The mileage voucher form. The P.T.A. receipt reimbursement form. The permission to breathe form. You get the picture.

Teachers had limits on their Xerox copying. Why? Because all of the forms had depleted the district’s paper budget. No, I’m not kidding.

Here I am again, the outsider looking “in” on another state, on another district. Thankfully, I haven’t seen a fire drill form, and we have a wonderful Print Shop available to copy activities we need that aren’t already provided by consumable materials. I can plan for a month in advance, send in my order, and a week later, voila! Having a calendar’s worth of activities and a month’s worth of lesson plans done ahead of time usually frees me up to do those “other” things, like spend time with my children. Crochet. See a movie. Talk with friends on the phone. Vacuum.

Usually.

With twelve years of experience, I rarely find myself having to recreate the wheel. I can bend, flex, tweak an activity, and get on with enjoying time with my students who are exploring new concepts. Two months into the school year however, and I find myself killing trees left and right. Why? Because three people who never see or work with my students need copies of their DIBELS scores. Because collegial groups need proof that I’m using graphic organizers, math problem solvers, writing models, and walking into my classroom or looking through my lesson plans doesn’t provide the hard evidence they need to show anyone who might look that we are, indeed, doing a good job with our “Quality Performance Accreditation.” So I’m burning copies of plans, burning copies of journal entries, keeping originals of T-charts, Venn diagrams, SQ3R papers (which aren’t even developmentally appropriate for kindergarten), NOT erasing overhead projection sheets of class surveys, saving morning messages on large chart tablet paper, and even taking Polaroid photos of my milk and school lunch/home lunch charts. To prove that I’m doing… what I’m doing. Yes, every other teacher is having to burn these copies, save this “proof” and a ton of other assessments too. Each quarter.

Let’s see… DIBELS (yellow books this year), DIBELS progress monitoring sheets out the wazoo, the “Optional Kindergarten Outcomes Reading Checklist, Forms, A, B, and C” (pink, has a typo, and is NOT “optional”), the Math Outcomes Checklist (white paper, also NOT “optional”), the reading rubric for the report card, the report card (which is for a half day program, not the full day program), all of the Q.P.A. forms listed above, an additional Q.P.A. lesson plan sheet (lilac in color) turned in each week, the S.F.A. reading and writing rubrics (no, they’re not aligned with the report card, and no, they won’t work for the Q.P.A. requirements). My personal teacher evaluation form (there are three or four of them), and a form for my own Professional Development Plan. Forms to fill out each time I attend an inservice for professional development, one for pay and another for credit towards the Professional Development plan. If I attend training or an inservice I might not have listed on the Professional Development Plan, I have to submit an addendum to the plan. Yes, another form. Voucher forms to get paid for teaching the After-School Program. Copies of my mid-quarters and report cards to three different people (in addition to the ones sent home to parents) for Speech and Language, E.L.L. (English Language Learner Program), and any other I.E.P. documentation. Extra copies of documentation for students with I.E.P.’s, and copies of my monthly class summary sheets indicating who needs help with certain skills.

This situation wouldn’t be a problem if I could use some of the same forms for multiple audiences. And no, I can’t. There is no standard bottom line or form that is a general “catch all” that would apply across the board, across the district, or even across the school population. In this age of “standardization,” nothing is standardized. So time is wasted, redundancies abound, and the only personal system I have to fall back on is my “binder system.” I have a binder for my monthly summary sheets. I have a binder for all report cards, DIBELS reports, and mid-quarter assessments. I have a binder for the Q.P.A. documentation. I pull whatever originals need to be copied from each binder, Xerox them, and then put all of the originals back, sorting the copies into their respective piles hoping they all make it to the intended recipients. Will anyone even really read these? Look through them? Or do they judge by the Inch Test: if the stack of papers is close to an inch thick, we “pass?”

I don’t mind assessing. I don’t mind backing up what I say I’m doing in the classroom. But I’m “assessing” for the sake of providing assessment forms to people in offices who will probably never meet my students. I’m burning copies to “prove” I’m doing my job. I’d rather just DO my job than worry about which committee needs what form to prove what is or isn’t going on in my classroom each day. If I’m teaching, I’m too busy for these forms and hoops anyway, right?

To quote a friend and former colleague of mine, “there you go, THINKING again.”


Burn copies for Mrs. X, Mr. Y, and Ms. Z. But don’t use too much paper out of our paper budget. Provide copies to committees A, B, and C, in the building, and to committees Q, R, and S outside of the building, and no, Committee A doesn’t want the same form that Committee Q wants, and don’t even think about using the same info, rubric or assessments for Committees B and R. You have to keep the green forms year-round but please turn them in at the end of each inservice, and remember, if you don’t get the white form to your building representative (who didn’t even attend the inservice), you don’t get paid.

I miss my children. I miss crocheting. I miss sleep.

But most of all, I miss logical efficiency.