NYC PUBLIC SCHOOL BLUE

Goodbye Classroom

2008-07-06T09:39:00.002-04:00

On June 26th, 2008 Mr. Benjamin spent his last day as a teacher in the service of the NYC Department of Education.

He (I) have accepted a position with a non-profit education consulting firm.

Thanks for reading. I will soon post a link to a new blog exploring education policy issues.

entry on the way

2008-01-17T22:21:00.000-05:00

So sorry for the lack of posting.

Terribly busy and living on the edge with 14 hour days. Small schools, large workload.

Will be kicking up some posts this weekend.

chronic teacher fatigue?

2008-01-10T18:38:00.000-05:00

CTF? I doubt the AMA recognizes such a condition, but if they did - I suspect I'm suffering from it.

Perhaps it's just the ELA prep that's getting to me. The simulation exams, the "incorporation" of testing skills in all subjects, the "pumping them up for the exam" hype ... it's all a bit much. The kids are trying their best; that I have to admit. But even they begin to become tired and need an outlet. Unfortunately, that seems to be exactly at the time of my class. So today's chatty class got the consequence for not completing their work. A 30 minute lunch detention. 30 minutes of agony for me. But once you say you're going to do issue a consequence, you have to follow through. Even if that means a loss of one's own lunch.

I'm slipping further and further behind in the curriculum due to this damn test. I can't wait for it to be over.

the quiet time

2008-01-06T18:32:00.000-05:00

It's a slump. A feeling of feeling caught, trapped, and contained in a situation I take responsible for creating. In my other career, we had what was known as the "three year hump" to get through. This is different somehow. It's an issue of really questioning whether I can continue at the pace I've created for myself. I've taken on a lot of roles, wanting to challenge myself. Too many roles, not enough time. For me, that is.

The break made me realize, yet again, how much of my life requires neglecting to see my family. I spent the break almost entirely at my parent's home. Those days made me recognize how many times I've spent cutting conversations short on the phone in order to to run down the stairs of the subway to attend yet another meeting of some sort.

On a good day, I'm home by nine at night and up at three in the morning to attend to the paperwork/lesson plans/newsletters that have to be completed. I'm too tired and drained to attend to these things any longer at night. Too exhausted, unable to concentrate. Family and friends fall by the wayside. A text and/or quick e-mail with my Blackberry have become the norm. My monthly planner has to be with me at all times. I can't even "book" a lunch with friends on the weekend. And when I do, I have to always state something like, "I'm good at X PM, but have to be at XYZ by such and such time." And then I eat and chat, while constantly trying to look at my watch inconspicuously.

Keeping up with this blog is an outlet, so excuse the self-pity that this post contains. I'm just running on empty, and taking a close examination of what I can do to get past this hurdle. Some how, some way. There is always an answer. I just can't seem to find it. Not without giving up things that mean something to me. But I guess that is the answer, isn't it?

the tag

2007-12-20T19:25:00.000-05:00

Well, 17 (really 15) at Have a Gneiss Day has hit me with a meme, so here goes:

THE RULES:
Link to the person that tagged you and post the rules on your blog.- Share 7 random and or weird things about yourself.- Tag 7 random (or not) people at the end of your post and include links to their blogs.- Let each person know that they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

1. I have a phobia with apples. The sight, the smell, and even a simple discussion about apples can cause me to fly into an anxiety attack. My family has absolutely no idea as to how this phobia developed. I once came home from a business trip to find my roommate baking an apple pie . I didn't return to our apartment for two days.

2. I failed one class in college. Art History 101.

3. I rarely watch television, but I am relatively addicted to Project Runway.

4. I feel guilty when I'm at a clothing store and examine a sweater or shirt which is perfectly folded. I then try to "refold" the item just as I found it.

5. I attended university in Paris for two years.

6. People tell me that I'm very well organized. They just don't know where I hide my messes.

7. 9/11 took away a career that I loved and believed I could never replace. I was wrong.

why bother with best buy?

2007-12-17T18:12:00.000-05:00

Today, we discovered that yet another computer was stolen from our school over the course of the weekend.

Angry? Yes.
Surprised? Not so much.

how small is too small

2007-12-11T17:40:00.000-05:00

I think that the last couple of posts deserve some clarification.

IS Prep is extremely small, even for a school in its first year of operation. Our register is only in the double digits, and our student to teacher ratio is approximately 7:1. At any given time, one will generally find 2-3 teachers in a classroom. Some are in the classroom for professional observation (our first year teachers observe at least five classes per week), while others are in the classroom for delivery of special services. Coaches are also prominent in the classrooms during the day. Even the guidance counselor pushes in throughout the week to provide character education and conflict resolution strategies.

My position entails working with just about every class, every day.

I guess due to this small community, we're particularly close to our students. My colleagues talk "kid" all of the time.

Which kid isn't turning in homework?
Which kid seems despondent?
What am I going to do about this kid's difficulty grasping a thesis sentence?

It's just the way it is right now. Believe me, I'm not running around the school crying about kids that we lose from time to time. But I do feel the loss, as does the rest of the staff.

NYC brings up an excellent point. Administrators do seek out weaknesses. But I'm fortunate that my principal is far more concerned with the teachers that seem (or are) disconnected from our students. Will IS Prep make it as as an effective school? I think so. The real issue we face as a school is managing the stress that comes with the multiple responsibilities the staff assumes in addition to teaching.

Is this the right place for me right now? I think so. Am I busting my ass? Oh, yeah! But being part of the development of a new school, and heading the development of a new department of special education, is a challenge I'm comfortable with. Can a school really develop into a "community" of students, parents, and staff? From what I'm discovering, it can. But the one variable you really have to control for is each stakeholder's intent of purpose. You really need to believe that what you're doing is the right thing, for the right purposes, and for the right outcomes.

There was a point to this post. I'm just too damn tired to remember what it was.

and yet another

2007-12-10T18:08:00.000-05:00

Student X has already been transferred to another facility.

Today was the day of gathering records, faxing offices, and fielding those terribly annoying pink message slips that somehow pour into one's mailbox at inconvenient times. I collected Student X's texts and journals from his classrooms, and piled them in my office. I looked at the doodling, studied his unsteady written words, and laughed at a terrible drawing he made of me with my "not happy" face on. I let the guidance counselor handle much of the faxing.

The sloths are preparing for an "end of unit" exam, and one of the sloths was particularly disruptive. I looked at her and asked why she was having a major malfunction. She then informed me that she, too, was leaving the school for a private school. She's a bright girl, but the family is having big problems (shelter, and all the instability that brings). So her acceptance to a boarding school is a positive development.

I was sitting in the middle of a meeting in the principal's office when she came to say goodbye at dismissal. She seemed happy. Optimistic. As we all stood up from the conference table to wish her well, I gave her a hug and told her, "You did well in my class, kid. I'm gonna miss you."

She replied, "I know."

"You know that you did well? Or that I'm going to miss you?"

"Both," she said smiling.

The meeting reconvened, and one of the staff looked over at me and asked whether I was tearing up.

Obviously, I was. But just for a second.

Sometime a goodbye truly is underscored with optimism and hope. And her departure certainly reinforced my understanding of such.

totally heartbroken

2007-12-08T00:16:00.000-05:00

One of my students was removed from my school. His foster parents said they couldn't handle him any longer.

Yes, he has many conditions that require extensive support.

Today, I was informed that he was placed in a psych program in upstate New York. Now I have to find a way to see him before the holidays. I sold my car when I moved to Manhattan, so it looks as though I'll be asking my parents to use one of their cars next weekend. I likewise hope that my father is available to join me. Perhaps for support; perhaps for the need to validate the one constant I've been so exceptionally fortune to have throughout my life.

I simply can't fathom this child not feeling loved at this time of the year. He needs to know someone gives a damn; that there just might be someone to turn to for the duration.

bullies

2007-12-04T19:36:00.000-05:00

Today, I met with Luke to discuss what provoked his "compass poking" incident.

I'm always so dismayed to discover the level of bullying that children experience, often out of the sight of teachers. And conversely, in the sight of teachers, but too easily dismissed as "horseplay" or "off-task" behavior.

He let it all out. He's outstandingly articulate.

Why are children so cruel to some of their peers?

Why would a child feel intimidated about "working hard and getting good grades" in a school that consistently pushes children to excel?

And really, what the hell do I do about it? How do I help this child? How much damage has already been done? Can it even be repaired? I strongly feel the weight of this problem, and I don't know what to do.

bad sloths

2007-12-03T20:25:00.001-05:00

The sloths were bad today. Very, very bad.

They didn't pay attention, they were defiant, and one was downright insubordinate. This is totally in stark contrast to my other classes. They know I'm serious, and they generally try to rise to the occasion. But the sloths are the lowest tracked students, and learned helplessness seems to be a prevalent theme. So tomorrow I try again.

I've resolved to take a step back from the UFT. Not as chapter leader, but from thinking about UFT policy with any sort of critical thought. It's relatively pointless. Basically, all I can do at my next chapter meeting is simply state that the UFT really hasn't enacted any purposeful course of action to stem the tide of slash-and-burn employee relations with the BOE, and to watch their asses.

I actually met up with my former principal on the train this afternoon. She quickly convinced me that no matter how bad the UFT is, the CSA is even worse. So that's that. I'm limiting my UFT comments to the blogs of the pros.

Certain developments at school now have me standing student arrival and dismissal duty outside indefinitely. In light of this, I went shopping for a new overcoat. 3 stores, 3 hours, and not one overcoat that I liked. I hate shopping to begin with (odd for a gay guy), and tonight's time waster didn't help.

And that's that. Another Monday down.

perhaps this is a medical condition

2007-12-02T17:22:00.000-05:00

I left yet another UFT function after listening to Randi speak. This is the third time that something was said that got my panties in a bunch.

I really don't have a problem with Randi. Some hate her, some love her, and I'm all ... meh. As a delegate for one year, and now a chapter leader, I find myself increasingly intolerant of ambiguity in the UFT's position when it comes to developing issues. In this case, Randi's discussion about Klein's "gotcha" unit, and an ensuing letter from the Chancellor that was supposedly sent to each teacher (did anyone actually get one?), was basically summarized with the conclusion that teachers will just have to live in fear for the next year and a half until this administration is gone.

Listen, I busted my ass this summer training 25 of the most talented, intelligent, and reflective teaching fellows one could hope to have at their school. I have four new teachers in my school this year. I am totally vested in seeing them thrive. Fear isn't a component in the development and growth of an effective teacher. It took me three years to fully appreciate the passion I have for teaching. If "fear" was an overriding concern of mine on a daily basis, I'd be back being a lawyer.

I guess my point is this. The UFT has got to take a true stand on many of the issues confronting our probationary and tenured teachers. This latest reorganization will certainly destroy many beginning and long-term careers, as principals strain to assume total responsibility and accountability of schools that the DOE has abandoned in a state of persistent failure.

So stating that my colleagues and myself have to endure another year and a half of fear is beyond my comprehension. It is not acceptable. Fight the fight, Randi, or please step aside.

- NO "Teacher Performance Unit"
- DEMAND a return to confidential new teacher mentoring
- MONITOR each and every "U" and "D" rating, not just end of the year performance reviews
- NO to merit pay in all of its forms
- NO to "Green Dot" watered-down charter school teacher contracts
- NO to "fair funding" nonsense that threatens our most veteran and effective teachers
- NO to the continuing isolation of our parents and ineptness of the Parent Engagement Office
- NO to the abhorrent, inhumane, unethical and unending testing of our students

week in review

2007-12-01T18:14:00.000-05:00

1. A parent of one of my students was summoned to the school to address a behavioral incident. The student (I'll call him "Luke") is a big (okay, seriously overweight), articulate, and endearing child. In advisory, I sometimes deviate from planned discussion issues to exploring the issue of bullying. Luke offered a number of anecdotes about being bullied, which certainly raised a red flag with me. So I've been keeping an eye on him, both in school and on the courtyard.

The other day I see Luke in our pseudo "all teacher" office. He's sitting there, not looking particularly concerned, and I simply assume that he's waiting for a note to the nurse or something similar. As it turns out, Luke is sitting in our office because he "stabbed" another student with the end of a compass. The student he hit (Alex) is all of 4'5" and weighs about 75 pounds. Alex is precocious, highly verbal, and off the charts in the "cute" division.

When I asked what happened, Luke told me that he asked Alex to stop talking during class. He then warned Alex that he would get him with the compass if he didn't shut his yap during "independent" practice. Apparently, Alex didn't listen, and the threat was enacted. No physical injury resulted, but still. So there's Luke, and as he tells me the story I must have let out a little smirk. As much as I love Alex and his insatiable inquisitiveness, he tends to get on one's nerves by the end of the day. The inner-adolescent in me smirked at the thought of him getting an unexpected jab in the arm. I know, I'm a terrible person for that one.

Anyhow, Alex and Luke's families were called in. IS Prep is not a place you want to get into trouble. We're consistently strict. At the conclusion of the meeting, I ran into Luke's mom who looked totally distraught (which is a totally normal reaction of a parent leaving an IS Prep intervention meeting). After a few moments discussing the incident, she informs me that Luke looks up to me and speaks of me often (yup, huge ego swell there).

"He says no one understands him but you. Will you, how do you say, 'mentor' him?"

I immediately told her I would. Out came my phone number and e-mail. I told her I would contact her on a weekly basis to discuss his academic and social progress.

We've been discussing the formation of a more formal mentoring program for some of our male students, and I guess this is a perfect start for the program. We have 4 male teachers on staff, all stating that they were definitely "in" on the idea. So I'm now brainstorming how to get this program started.

2. A woman cut me in line at Staples. Actually, she cut about 6 of us in line. I wasn't in a particularly good mood, as it was 8:30PM and I had just left school. When I told her that she jumped the line, she went nuts. She actually started hollering into her cell phone that someone had accused her of cutting the queue (my word, not hers). The Staples' folks were just staring at her, shaking their heads, but doing nothing about it. She then tried to do the "purse, hat, cell phone, and credit card juggle" while attempting to pay, and the phone fell from her ear to the counter and totally broke. People on the line started laughing at her. I sheepishly admit I did as well. Again, I am a terrible person.

3. My homework submission rate has hit an all-time low this week. This is likely caused by "end of the month" projects that are due in just about every subject. I delay my projects until mid-month, as the students just get overwhelmed at this time and start hauling in crap. I am not happy about this development, as I issue homework that I think is necessary. There are a couple of avenues I can take to address this problem; I'm just not sure which one.

4. On the flip side, I purchased a timer for my overhead. It's had a big impact. The students actually groan when the timer starts getting low and they're falling behind. I love it! It's pretty hard not to notice that you have three minutes left to complete your work with a six foot projection on the wall. It was on the expensive side (35 bucks or so), but it was money well spent. Classroom productivity has definitely increased.

5. If in need of a plastic surgeon on Staten Island, please visit the homepage of the UFT website. Apparently the membership's dues money can no longer sustain the organization. So when you go to look up your procedural due rights for receiving a "U," you can also consider the impact a nose job may have on your career. Very professional. Kudos to the genius who thought that one up. Why, why, why did I assume the chapter leader position? I am just so thankful that my principal is a just administrator who does not want to see any form of divisiveness with his/her staff.

can he hold a piece of chart paper with his stomach?

2007-11-28T19:46:00.000-05:00

During one of my teaching periods today, I noticed that one of my students was fascinated with a small pencil case I keep my dry erase markers and magnets in. They were within easy reach of him.

The magnets I use are the "high" power kind; the ones you have to purchase online.

I went to put up a piece of chart paper on the board, and noticed that one was missing. I concurrently noticed that my student had something in his mouth. I knew immediately what it was.

I must have caught him off guard when I yelled his name.

He swallowed the magnet. Yup. He sure did.

"Did you just swallow the magnet?"

"Oh my god, Mr. Benjamin! You scared me, yo! I swallowed it! I swallowed it!"

I ran over to my clipboard, wrote a slip to the nurse, and sent him to the medical office. Class ended soon after, and I immediately called his mom at work to explain. As I was going through the course of events that transpired, she asked me to hold for a moment. When she came back on the line, she asked me to repeat what happened. I did.

The next thing I knew I heard a crowd of people laughing. She evidently put me on speaker phone to allow her coworkers to hear me explain what happened. Honestly, I was rather mortified. Granted, the child is 11. But still, I felt terribly about what happened.

She was hysterically laughing. The nurse then called, and she once again put me on hold. She came back on the line and thanked me for calling her. At this point, she was almost in tears with laughter. She told me that she would immediately call his doctor, and not to worry.

Strange day. This was a first for me.

candles, rain, and the sloth class...

2007-11-26T19:03:00.000-05:00

First, the "vigil." Again, I think it should be called what it is. A protest. The Teacher Performance Unit is not something one should have a "vigil" for. It should be a damn protest, with lots of shouting, picketing, and an immense crowd of very displeased educators. This "unit" is simply the support division to ensure that principals that may have even the most arbitrary reasons for disliking an educator to build the case to dismiss him or her. Probationary or tenured, all NYC teachers should be very, very concerned about this development. I felt so silly asking my teachers to come to a "vigil." (The real "vigils" should be held in front of the rubber rooms where our colleagues are sitting for inordinately long periods of time, often without knowing the charges brought against them.)

I am the first one to agree that teachers lacking in instructional efficacy need support. They certainly do not need the "unit" overseeing this. That, dear readers, is a set-up for dismissal. So why are we carrying candles and humming union tunes. Silly. Where were the signs? Where were the proclamations that Klein and Bloomberg have failed in their moral and fiduciary duties to the students and parents of New York City? The NAEP certainly provides the definitive evidence that our school system is in persistent failure, more so now that Klein continues to lead it. Reorganization after reorganization only acts to further destabilized schools, as school leaders, educators, parents, and students struggle to once again figure out which "person with a new title" is in charge of what. It's frustrating and detracts from the ultimate goal of student achievement.

Second, my schedule is tight and I need at least a moderate amount of time to schedule "school related" events. I schedule myself for a fair amount of professional development, given that the BOE really no longer provides it. I think that this is a normal part of the due diligence one must pay to continue to develop as a teacher. True, before the dismal 37.5 minutes, in-house PD was a total joke. But there are some fantastic PD opportunities out there, whether provided by the UFT or one of the hundreds of cultural institutions that offer development to NYC educators. This is now my third cancellation of a PD event that I wanted to attend, due to the increasing amount of "last minute, must be there" after-school meetings which are egregiously announced the day before they occur. I almost coughed up my lunch when I was told that my presence was expected at a particularly important meeting. Tomorrow. This should come as no surprise to the many parents, teachers, and administrators that flocked to SLT training, only to be read aloud a list of notes.

I have to say that my school is well run and the students are generally particularly well behaved. But one of my classes, whom I've chosen to call the "Defiant Sloths," has pushed my buttons a bit too frequently as of late. So, a letter to the parents of the class is going out tomorrow. With a friendly invitation to come and sit with their child at a time of their choosing. I still find it amazing that I can scare the pants off of three of the other classes I work with (all I have to say is "hush" and these classes go silent), yet the Defiant Sloths are throwing me for a loop.

Ahh. I feel better getting this off my chest.

Not good news...

2007-11-24T08:43:00.000-05:00

This morning I resolved to get a flu shot. In my prior career, I always got a flu shot as I never knew what country I might be in for business. One year, I came down with the flu in Brussels, and spent 3 additional days in a hotel room sick as a dog. I learned my lesson, but since I started teaching, I've fallen behind in my normal flu shot diligence.

So I poked around the city website looking for a clinic. I would go to my doctor, but scheduling just about any procedure with him always conflicts with my schedule (like work, and I don't want to take a day off just to have a 10 second needle to the arm).

What I wasn't pleased to read was this announcement from the NYC Dept. of Health and Mental Hygiene:

http://www.nyc.gov/html/doh/html/pr2007/pr092-07.shtml

Given that I work in this area, I'm concerned about both the community and my students' families.

What really made me tingle with "ughh" was the nice photo of Bloomberg getting his shot, apparently by a visiting nurse at his office. Must be nice. I would get one through the city program, but all of the clinics are only open from 8:30AM - 2:30PM, which obviously conflicts with people that teach.

I find the press release to be particularly disturbing.

auto-response teacher

2007-11-20T22:32:00.000-05:00

I can't believe how many times I repeated this today and tonight at P/T conferences:

"May I look at report card? It helps me to get a better picture of how he/she is doing. Mr./Mrs. Insert Name Here, this school is premised on two goals. First, to see that your child develops into an individual strong in character. Secondly, we are here to prepare your son/daughter academically to get into the best high schools and colleges. This will not happen until your son/daughter begins to take responsibility for his/her learning." "The question is not when, but how? What is your suggestion?"

And every parent said the same thing.

"Well. Uhh. Hmmm."

This led to some exceptionally long discussions, much to the chagrin of the dozen parents standing in line.

I was actually quite pleased with some of the suggestions and the conversations that followed.

It certainly beat the P/T conferences that I was subject to the last three years at IS OZ, which generally started with something to the effect of, "Thanks for coming. We're having another problem with Pauly telling me to suck his d78k every day that I ask him to hang his coat."

parent-teacher

2007-11-19T20:05:00.000-05:00

This is the problem. I don't have a classroom. I share a small office. But in one of the classrooms, I'm viewed as a co-resident with another (new) teacher. This has been an adjustment for me. It's like Oscar and Felix. I'm a nut case when it comes to classroom upkeep. I don't let my students leave the classroom until every bit of paper, pencils, and other forms of classroom refuse are cleaned up.

I go ape sh*t when I find a sunflower seed shell anywhere in the room. That is my pet peeve. I've given up on the gum issue, so long as they don't crack and pop it in their mouth. They know that if I find one piece of gum anywhere under a desk or chair, the gum days are over. I fought the gum battle for three years, and really, it was just a waste of instructional time. So I let it be.

So, tomorrow is parent-teacher conferences at my school. A time when many teachers spend some extra time getting things tidy and organizing papers and projects. I have done all I can to support this new teacher (whom I was responsible for hiring), and spent all of my Teacher's Choice money on classroom supplies. I know what being broke is like during the first few months of teaching, so I'm basically happy to do so.

But this teacher has had a rather difficult time maintaining the classroom. I know that (s)he is definitely lost at sea in many respects. IS Prep is a very intense school to work at. As a new school, people do take on many additional duties. Our classroom instruction is standardized in terms of format, which took me some time to adjust to. But in many respects, it works. Sixth graders leaving their self-contained classrooms seem to do well when instruction is structured similarly amongst teachers. I'm not a huge fan of the workshop model, but the instructional flow that we have adopted stresses independent work over collaborative, with only a small portion of the class engaged in pair and share.

But Oscar left this afternoon immediately following the end of the school day. Normally, I don't have a problem with this. Today, I did. The classroom was a mess, the bulletin boards were not completed, and whole bunch of other matters needed to be attended to ... especially if I'm going to be conducting conferences in the same room. So now it's 8:00 PM, and I'm just getting in to the house.

I know what it is like to be a new teacher, and have vowed to help her/him throughout the year. But sometimes I get the feeling that this profession just isn't cut out for this teacher. You have to have a lot of heart and an abundance of initiative. Honestly, I just don't see it. I'm hoping I'm wrong with these gut feelings. Tomorrow will be a sit down with her/him, both as a friend and lead. I don't know. I'll share what transpires.

(As always, this post has not been edited. Apologies.)

teacher, author, and a whole bunch of nonsense...

2007-11-17T18:26:00.000-05:00

I went to Dan Brown's reading of The Great Expectations School last night at the UFT. It was a disappointment in many ways. Strangely, what ruined the evening was Randi. Late, as usual, she appeared just as Mr. Brown was beginning to take questions. She quite literally hogged the microphone, going on and on about UFT developments and not Mr. Brown's book. I actually felt bad for the man. He just kind of stood there.

What I find so annoying lately about Randi is her continued use of describing standardized tests ( in this case the NAEP and NYS exams) as "not reliable" or "unreliable." Evidently, she doesn't understand the distinction between testing validity and reliability. I may be splitting hairs here, but she keeps faltering with her word choice both in person and in her statements to the press.

On an unrelated note, I received an e-mail this morning from one of my students (yes, through my BOE address) to inform me that he had copied my homework from a friend. He felt badly about it, he wrote, and couldn't sleep last night. He went on to say that he knew there would be consequences and wanted to know what they might be.

My reply:

Tommy (not his real name),

Thank you for telling me. That took a lot of courage.

We all make poor decisions at times. The important thing is to learn from our mistakes. And I think you have. Please write a new essay this weekend. I will accept it without any penalty or demerits.

Sleep well this evening,
Mr. Benjamin

For some reason, his e-mail made my day.

a grunt will do

2007-11-15T21:20:00.000-05:00

I've always had rather good relations with my colleagues. But not so much at IS Prep. At least with one in particular. She's a bully. Period.

For a fair amount of time I've been intimidated by her. We had one fierce blow-up at beginning of the year. I'm not sure what happened after the loud (her) 10 minute spat, but I do know that I wasn't called into the office to explain myself. So that says something.

I just hate working in such a small environment with this feeling of hostility in air. It definitely has not dissipated between us. We try to play nice to one another, but I think we

... this is where I must stop. I feel so inhibited posting this year as the school is small and I really don't want to getting my ass caught, like one other fabulous NYC teacher-blogger that was discovered at his school and had to endure an investigation. So we'll see where I go with this.

OH! Nice CL e-mail today about the new NYC "gotcha" announcement. Now why I don't I find this development to be the least surprising?

Just make a right, follow the hallway, and kidnap a child

2007-11-14T18:49:00.000-05:00

My school has two students currently in a parental fight for custody. One parent actually managed to "kidnap" the child over the summer. The staff knows what's up with these children, and are cautious of who is visiting on our floor (which also houses 2 other schools).

SO WHY ARE THERE NO VISITOR'S PASSES OR LAPEL STICKERS FOR OUTSIDERS TO CARRY.

I found one man in a classroom looking at the bulletin boards. With the door closed. When I asked him where he was intending to go, he mentioned another school on our campus. So I escorted his ass right out of the room and dropped him off with the other school's secretary.

I'm at the point of wanting visitors to wear sandwich-board signs. Tomorrow, this has to be dealt with. I love my school officers (really, they are really kind people) , but this crap has got to end.

On a totally unrelated note, Project Runway starts tonight! Brain candy!

this is autonomy?

2007-11-13T18:09:00.000-05:00

The "empowerment" scheme is a joke, a scam, and a bunch of bullsh&t.

I have spent my afternoon willing my ass to remain seated as I listened to an empowerment network wonk insist that I change the setting of one of my students. Listening to the wonk, it quickly became apparent that the wonk has absolutely no clue about least restrictive environments. I had to listen to phrases like:

"He'll be better if her were in culinary program."
"He can't do the work here! He would be so much better off in a 12:1:1 class."
"He'll never get more than an IEP diploma."

THE KID IS ONLY 11! Let's give him a chance. He's a foster kid. There is potential. He's 11, and she is already talking about him having a "shot" at learning a trade. This is not that type of kid. This kid needs a lot of emotional and educational support. AND HE'S GETTING IT!

He is emotionally and educationally growing in a group of his peers without a disability. Are things modified and adapted? Of course.

Then wonk made some statement that it was probably a concern of mine that if we lose this student, the school would suffer a bit financially. I replied, "This is an issue about a child, not money. We have been making due with what we have, and will continue to do so regardless."

For those of you that aren't aware, not all new schools are busting about with tons of money.

Then wonk went to my school psychologist (without consulting me or asking for my attendance at such meeting, which is really a bit much given that I'm the kid's provider AND the lead teacher). My principal wasn't there, so that made matters more complicated. My principal has no tolerance for nonsense, at least not this kind.

Then wonk went and told me I was wrong on a bunch of different matters (which I'm not). I finally had kids standing outside the office waiting for me to start extended day, which was the perfect way to get out of the situation before I let wonk meet the "you are truly screwing with the wrong person" demeanor I set aside for special situations.

Amazing how one person, who has only visited the school twice before, can cause so much needless trouble. And the school has to pay 28 grand for this kind of support (errr... or should I say control, because that's what it is).

Autonomy? My ass. These empowerment teams are a bunch of bullies trying to justify their jobs and avoid the classroom.

I'm exhausted, pissed, and got so caught up with the wonk, I didn't even eat yet today.

(sorry in advance for any typos)

it's moday, feels like sunday

2007-11-12T07:11:00.000-05:00

Hoorah! I spent another day doing absolutely nothing on Sunday! I ran a couple of errands and that was about it. It's been great to actually have some time to catch up on some blogs that I've neglected for far too long, such as unaccountable talk, NY Teacher, Ms. Frizzle, and some new favorites. I love Pissed Off Mom. Great to hear the insight of someone navigating the NYC system with her children, and the insight she provides.

Today, alas, it is back to work. Although not at school. I was informed in a "very last minute" type of way on Friday that I have three "after school" training sessions for the SLT committee. Not too happy about that one. This also conflicts with an evening PD I already signed up and really wanted to attend. I also have to launch a professional development series for my department, which should be interesting given that all of my department consists of teachers taking grad classes, all on different days. I hate "lunch 'n learn" meetings. That's simply overkill, and no teacher should have to feel pressure to attend a meeting scheduled during a "duty free" period. But with only two PD days this year, I'm left totally confused as to when the BOE thinks PD should be provided.

I would ask my principal for per session compensation for the teachers, but the school is broke by all accounts. I agree with the principal that we don't want to start our second year in a deficit. So I'm going to have to figure something out.

Just a quick note on collaborative (common) planning sessions. It's really hard to prepare for a class when one of the members of your department doesn't do his or her designated lesson. I like that we write lesson plans on a rotating basis. It makes sense, and saves a lot of time. But not if one of your colleagues doesn't do them promptly. This morning, I still don't have a lesson plan for one of my classes tomorrow, although the teacher promised me it would be e-mailed by Sunday. It's Monday, no lesson in e-mail box, and Mr. Benjamin is not happy. I have two of the lowest level classes in the school (yes, tracking is alive and well), and I always have to adapt the lessons and differentiate the instruction and product. I'm going to chill a bit before I e-mail the teacher.

I'm off to the Apple store in Soho to catch a workshop on OS X Leopard. I need to learn things I probably won't use often but make me happy when I do. I actually stood on a huge line to purchase the upgrade on the day of its release. In the rain. It was actually kind of fun, given that I never do that kind of stuff. Got the free t-shirt. Sometimes it's the little things.

three day weekend

2007-11-10T22:06:00.000-05:00

I could not get out of my apartment today. Literally, I was so exhausted from the week that I haven't even picked up the phone. There are some people that you can relate your week to (mainly teacher friends), but for the most part those in my life don't have a clue about what I'm talking about. So I spent a total day NOT on any school work, and just spent the day on the couch reading and napping. An indulgance, for sure.

As for the class that was not behaving in a manner anywhere acceptable at IS Prep (this school is strict, no joking around), and not meeting with them on Friday, I informed them that too much material was left untaught, and that they were required to do a research report. Typed.

I anticipated the majority of the students would try to avoid it, but I was pretty surprised with about a 60% return rate. Some of the students began begging me to grant them a homework pardon with pleas of excuses the ranged from the normal "I left it on my Mom's flashdrive" to the "my printer is dry." I always give kids that approach me with tech excuses the benefit of the doubt, so long if it comes in the next day.

I was wholly impressed with some of the submissions, a few of which had handwritten notes apologizing for their behavior. For those that didn't submit, I tracked them down at the end of their last class of the day to issue letters home. A couple of them absolutely had a screaming melt-down. Parents 0f our school know, for the most part, that we don't kid around. Kids are to be uniform, prepared, and behaved. They have to produce. And they probably get more homework than they would like, but that's the way it is. And parents don't like getting these kinds of letters.

But being so small has its advantage. When we issued our first progress reports, we actually checked the parents' signatures against those on file. About 10% of our sneaky sixth-graders were discovered to have forged the report. And believe me, those parents were furious. And perplexed that the school actually does this.

So off they went with letters in hand. And definitely not happy.

Great to spend a day doing absolutely nothing.

i'm drowning

2007-11-08T20:57:00.000-05:00

Today, I had my first really, really bad class at IS Prep.

I knew it was going to be a rough start with this class when I walked in the room. The prior teacher looked battered as he left the classroom, and the kids were in full blown chaos. Chaos I can handle. I can get the students back in their seats. I can also usually scare the crap enough out of them to get them to hush up. But not today. Yes, they sat. And yes, some of them zipped their mouths.

But a number of them were in all-out bickering mode with one another. This situation, of course, is compounded with the "collaborative grouping" of desks. As CL, I know the rules regarding this. However, this is a new school, and I really want to believe that we can get these kids to swing with the arrangement. On the other hand, two hundred years of educating students in row formation does beg some questions as to validity.

I went postal about 30 minutes into the class. I flipped. I lost it. This I am not proud of. This is not the teacher I am. I worked my ass off last night refining a lesson on Powerpoint for this class, all for naught. And, I only see this class twice a week.

Arghh. I know all teachers have these moments. But I haven't had one in quite a period of time (and that includes my section of emotionally disturbed kids from last year who were totally insane).

I'm working on a plan on how to address this tomorrow. I doubt I'll have one.

NASTY

2007-11-07T20:49:00.000-05:00

This morning on the subway on my way to school, I was sitting across (let me repeat this part - across) the aisle from some man who chose to clip his nails. I have always found this to be a disgusting habit. When I worked with the airlines, it was always a complicated matter onboard. Other passengers would show looks of disgust in first-class as some suit would start clipping away. Even on a transatlantic flight, which was a "first class - six seats - top service" type of flight I took home from Europe after a meeting, there was some gentlemen clipping his nails all the way through the dinner service. Nasty.

This morning, however, the man clipping his nails accomplished something more than my disgust. He actually HIT me with his FINGERNAIL CLIPPING on the forehead. That nasty piece of nail jumped a good three or four feet. And hit my head.

Worse, I was sitting there with my eyes closed nodding in and out. And then it hit. That certainly woke me up.

I yelped. Instead of saying something very New York-ish, like, "You nasty asshole," I let out some lame, "EEEEEEWWWWWWWW." The man apologized pretty quickly, and by that time most of the passengers around us were staring.

When I was standing at the subway door waiting to get off the damn train, the woman standing behind me said something like, "You handled that well. If it were me, I would have stabbed him."

To the ass that stole my classroom computer...

2007-11-07T05:04:00.000-05:00

Dear &^*(&!,

Thanks so much for stealing the classroom computer. It was only a few days old, so at least my students didn't get accustomed to having it. With the huge budget my school has, I expect not to see another for the remainder of the year. I hope you're enjoying what you stole from my students (or whatever you did with it).

There's a special place in the universe for people like you.

Mr. Benjamin
(once again using his personal computer for student use)

time to remember

2007-10-30T20:46:00.000-04:00

Too often, I've been so caught up in the development of the new school that I tend to lose sight of why I'm expending so much energy regarding this endeavor.

Today, we took the school to the zoo. I was hoping to stay back to get some "urgent paperwork" done, but that wasn't to be. So off I went. Reluctantly.

I'm so glad I did. It allowed me some time to bond, play, and goof around with my students. Hands pulling on my sleeve to look at various animals were a powerful reminder of the role we play as teachers. Smiles and jokes reminded me of how wonderful children are; how they can be concurrently cynical and inquisitive all at once as they develop their minds in relation to the larger world they have inherited.

They made me laugh today. They made me think about how I teach, how to motivate learning, how to get them to the next level.

How lucky, I thought, to be a teacher.

(oh, gosh. This was a strange post for me.)

Would love to post

2007-10-29T18:20:00.000-04:00

I am absolutely swamped with paperwork.

Monthly progress reports
9 more IEPs due Wednesday
2 student observations
4 SETSS observations and assessments
Lesson plans (woo hoo! The one thing that I DO like doing)
Homework, Project Grades, Test Grades, Quiz Grades
UFT communications to staff / SBOs to draft

I have gone through 2 ink cartridges in four days.

The paper is swallowing my office alive, and I'm too damn broke to invest in any storage systems. I've tried to get through the paper mess by multiple organization methods (color-coded files, labeled cardboard boxes, and infinite binders). I'm done. I'm fizzling out. I'm exhausted from deadlines. I'm weary of the never ending "data collection" crap overwhelming my school. I dread looking in my school box.

Notice how I haven't even mentioned that almost none of this actually related to the one thing I'm really passionate about? Teaching? Oh, that would be nice, but while I'm teaching, I'm worrying about what meeting I've probably missed, will miss, or about to miss.

I just want my old classroom back with my crazy-ass kids. I miss them so much.

Gotta run. Paperwork to do, don't you know.

WHERE IS THE PAPERWORK REDUCTION INITIATIVE, RANDI?
WHY IS MY SCHOOL PAYING ALMOST $30, 000 to an "empowerment network"? All they seem to do is come in and want MORE paperwork. Bah!

Oh, and my bulletin boards? Yeah, they can only have typed student work. Guess who is typing that stuff? The teachers. So much to do, so little time, so much damn paperwork.

Off for a few days...

2007-10-19T23:51:00.000-04:00

This morning I was greeted with the following coming from one of my students:

"Hey Mr. Benjamin! I though you were here in your office. I could smell you! And, oh! I didn't finish my homework, 'cause I had an important assignment due today."

Hmmm. This is a perplexing question and a perplexing statement.

First, am I perhaps wearing a cologne too strong? I swear I put on a very light scent (Clinique's Happy for men), and not that much.

Secondly, how did my homework become not so important?

I'll be away from home for a few days ... and this I am looking forward to.

short sighted?

2007-10-17T19:19:00.000-04:00

Mr. Benjamin left the Delegate Assembly early this evening. I left before motions were even voted upon.

I am pleased that 25/55 has been approved (pending NYS legislative and executive approval).

I am NOT pleased with the ridiculous agreement that cash incentives (merit pay) be offered to "high needs" schools. Yes, I know the arguments - merit pay will become a reality in some form given the current reauthorization act.

But really, as a "union" that states that it objects to NCLB, all we have done is dangle a carrot in front of the faces of teachers with the bizarre hope that it will increase student scores, decrease school closings, and attract teachers to schools in danger of persistent failure.

Uhhmmm. No.

Teachers are done teaching to the test. The effort, stress, and strain of these ludicrous assessments has taxed the best and brightest teachers and students. And the emotional toll that it has taken on students with disabilities and English language learners is unconscionable. Good lord, how will these schools' faculties behave when these monetary incentives are offered?

I think the ultimate insult came from a "delegate" claiming that those of "us" at the assembly who were opposed to the measure were "short sighted." I let out a "BOO!" I'm not that kind of person at public gatherings to be vocal in an unprofessional manner, but NCLB is a train wreck. And the inability of the educational unions to force meaningful change to NCLB is wholly unforgivable.

Please. Are we a "Union of Professionals?" Or just money-hungry thugs implicitly furthering the damaging effects of unnecessary and excessive testing.

My school closed due to poor performance. No amount of "here's a reward, you're a good doogie" money would have altered its course of persistent failure. It would, however, throw the school's faculty into a monotonous and daily routine of test prep to children. That's NOT teaching.

Moreover, teachers that DO work in difficult schools, yet manage to keep scores high, will never be the beneficiaries of such a reward. Nonsense!

Rant over. Either re-haul NCLB in a manner that is acceptable to education "professionals" (Yes! And with the money to fund it), or stand in opposition to it.

Okay, rant over. Really.

professional development

2007-10-15T21:02:00.000-04:00

This evening I was mandated to attend a PD about how to present a PD.

The irony.

I keep swearing to myself that I will not make people endure ice-breakers or sit through irrelevant nonsense that they can't utilize in their own classroom.

I'm beginning to dread "Chancellor's Day" already.

agitated, actually

2007-10-14T10:10:00.000-04:00

I sat on my ass all day yesterday. Although I did make it to the deli around the corner from my building, with the intention of getting some errands done after, I was pooped. I just came home and plopped on the couch. And when I say came home, that meant pushing my way through a damn conga line of tourists standing in front of my building (that's for another post altogether).

So today's "to do" list isn't looking good.

1. Lesson plans for week, and absentee lesson plans for the office's files.
2. 9 (nine!) IEPs to write and revise. I'm guessing 45 minutes each. That's not good.
3. Make paper-mache globe to serve as a "model" for a class project.
4. Clean apartment.
5. Try to resolve scheduling conflicts on calendar (which my crack-berry keeps informing me of, and I keep ignoring).

I know that I worked hard at I.S. OZ, but working for I.S. Prep is a totally different experience. Before I could dismiss my class, and use my prep to tidy the room, grade, and all that normal kind of stuff a teacher does. Now I'm itinerant. I have no designated classroom. I teach in five different classrooms throughout the course of the week. I wheel my materials around in one of those odd looking "crate on wheels" contraptions. It's teal and blue. It is ugly. And I do not like it. It's jammed with project supplies, files, rulers, textbooks, and various other items. I left my "I can't believe I just spent nine dollars on an egg timer from Target" somewhere, and now I can't find it. I need my egg timer! The stop watch just isn't doing it.

Yes, an egg timer. After three years of teaching in a self-contained classroom of perhaps 8-10 students, I'm now teaching two general education classes. One has 28 students, the other has a bit less. Total pedagogical culture shock. I'm adapting. But I.S. Prep has a certain "style" of lesson presentation, and I really need to stay within my time stipulations. So I guess I'll have to add that to my "to do list:

6. Egg timer

I'm already behind. Gotta jump in the shower and get on with the day. Noooooooo. Must make crazy paper mache globe before shower, given my clumsy factor and the fact that I don't want to be covered in flour for the duration of the day. I'd post pictures of the process, but my digital camera is likewise AWOL.

Mr. Benjamin's BOE Annoyance of the Week:

The disappearance of "regional mentoring." Now individual schools have to re-assume the responsibility.

For a rather interesting article about this, see the article in Education Week:

"New York Shifts Strategy on Mentoring New Teachers" EdWeek.org, October 4, 2007

Kids, Don't sing "Happy Birthday" please

2007-10-12T04:35:00.000-04:00

Somehow, one of my classes learned that it was my birthday.

It was all very cute. When my back was turned, one of the students crossed out the "do now" and wrote "Happy Birthday to Mr. Benjamin." When I started the lesson, I turned to the overhead (no using chalkboards - frowned up) and began to read the "Aim/Objective/Learn this, Damn it!" and the kids broke into an extremely loud rendition of "Happy Birthday." All 28 of them. At the top of their lungs.

Very sweet. Lovely kids, I thought. I was all smiles.

Then they all became very squirmy and chatty (this I don't care for at all). I asked for order, which was generally ignored.

I came to decision this year that I'm not repeating myself more than once (except for the kid with the receptive language problems, which requires a BUNCH of repeating and rephrasing). The new school's culture is strict. There isn't a lot of tolerance for off task behavior.

So I gave them lunch detention because almost none of them completed their independent work. I did feel some pangs of guilt about this (particularly as I don't believe in group detention), but they did managed to produce some excellent work during this time.

I guess the lesson is this: Woe to the child that reminds a (gay) man that he has hit his late thirties.

Didn't take them long to figure this one out...

2007-10-10T05:02:00.000-04:00

(Me, setting up a projector and falling over a bunch of wires)

Student (loudly): "Everyone put your bags under you desk. Mr. Benjamin just gonna step or trip over them!"

Me (amused): "So what your saying is that I'm clumsy?"

Students (many of them in unison): "Yes!"

It's true, too. I am.

Damn them for noticing so early in the year.

Dreaming

2007-10-08T09:16:00.000-04:00

Last night I dreamed that I was back in the courtroom.

I was sitting before the judge with reams of paper and folders. Co-counsel requested a document. I started pouring through the folders, binders, and loose paper all around me. I couldn't find it. I started frantically digging through the mess with the eyes of the judge fixed firmly upon me. I started panicking.

Then I woke up. It was 1:15 AM. I was sweating like a pig.

This, gentle readers, is the cumulative effect of data collection under the new reorganization. Absolutely everything must be documented, sorted, filed, copied, copied again for redundancy, and magically appear at the request of anyone who asks. I am swimming in mounds of paper and "to do" lists requiring that I document even more data for the week. Data, data, data...

I laughed at the latest article in "NY Teacher" which loudly proclaimed, "Let's not make data a four letter word."

Really?

Every time I'm waiting on line at Staples, with paper protectors, binders, and colored files to be purchased, I AM THINKING A FOUR LETTER WORD. And it's not "DATA."

And that's where I'm off to today. To buy more supplies to organize "data" and mull over how far behind I am in my "data" collection. I don't heart Staples anymore. Teacher's Choice? Please. Spent that in August. Wasn't there supposed to be a "paperwork reduction" initiative? So why do I have so much paperwork?

Ah, yes. Must give food to the 80 million dollar data eater. Bah.

I.S. OZ ... The Final Days

2007-10-07T17:39:00.000-04:00

Perhaps I shouldn't have been as surprised as I was when I learned the news.

I was teaching my class when my AP came to my door. One of my students saw him peering in through the window and alerted me with, "Yo! Fat man at door!"

I stepped out into the hallway and my AP whispered in my ear.

"They're shutting us down. We're closing. Phase out. It seems pretty definite."

I was alone that day at the school. My CL was out, and as delegate, I knew that matters were falling quickly into my lap. Of course, the DOE came flying to the school for a briefing of the matter, and I managed to get my UFT DR to assemble a group of union individuals for the official announcement. What was particularly disturbing was that the DOE already had the names of the new schools that would be replacing IS OZ.

And so it goes.

The whole matter was upsetting. True, the school had lost control of the students for far too long. But my classes were beginning to thrive, and my students were excelling at an unprecedented pace. All of the crazy behaviors that many of my students exhibited were finally being quelled through long term interventions and supports. And I must admit that looping with these children was the single greatest gift I had ever been given by the school.

Thus, the lack of posting. Not much to post about. With the exception of one fight chronicled earlier on this blog, I didn't have a single fight break out in my classroom during the year. True, many classes dissolved into "class meetings" where students were made to work out their differences before they became violent. These class meeting took on a life of their own, with hot under the collar teens announcing at the start of class that a "meeting" was needed before someone got a serious beating. But given that this class had a high concentration of emotionally challenged children, I secretly felt that I had at least established a classroom culture premised on resolving problems appropriately and with the assistance of their peers.

I cried in the mens' room at their graduation. A father of one student pulled me aside and stated, "I didn't think she would ever be able to read. I thank you. And God thanks you." And that was it. Tears. Lots. But also a highlight in my teaching career. And an event to mark a new beginning elsewhere.

So this blog is taking a twist. A bit of journey into starting a brand new school. Taking on a new position with a raise, becoming chapter leader, and developing a new department of special education has had its share of challenges. And I've suffered some disheartening defeats along the way.

But all in all, I love my new students. And I am deeply committed to the mission of the school.

So welcome to I.S. Prep. And one particularly stressed out (and frequently pissed-off) teacher.

Exit Teddy

2007-01-21T18:49:00.000-05:00

One of the children in my class, Teddy, has now been officially transferred to another school.

Teddy, a child I firmly believed fell somewhere on the autistic spectrum, had seriously delayed social skills, and although he did fill my blog with numerous entries regarding strange incidents, the truth was that I had been continually advocating for further testing and examination of alternate settings for well over the course of a year and a half.

Teddy was that target of bullying. He was the weakest in the class, and was often subject to degrading and insulting remarks by other students. I would have Teddy arrive to school early to help me set up my classroom for the day, with the hope that I could spare him any early morning quarrels. And I had so, so many meetings with my class about the need to support him and accept his unique behaviors.

And although I knew that I could control some of his social pressures within the confines of my classroom, I was also cognizant of the fact that I couldn't control the interactions he had outside of my classrooom. And apparently, the teasing and humiliation that bullying can bring was just too much.

I really am not at liberty to give many details of what transpired on the days leading up to the the "incident." But some violent behaviors at school and some disturbing writings and drawings found in his notebook (yes, I snooped) indicated that Teddy was well on his way to either hurting himself or others.

The scale tipped one morning in my classroom with a series of incidents. I then called the school's psychologist when Teddy shared with me a piece of paper that he had written.

Teddy left in an ambulance that morning. I walked him to the vehicle with a large number of police and paramedics surrounding us. Teddy froze on the stairwell and wouldn't budge. I asked the paramedic who appeared to be in charge if it would be okay to walk him out alone, just myself, and get him situated in the vehicle. They were kind enough to oblige, and with rain pouring down, Teddy apprehensively stepped into the back of the ambulance. I can't remember exactly what I said to him in the back of the ambulance, but I do remember holding his hand firmly and not wanting to let go.

Teddy was observed at the hospital for a fair amount of time. He is now in an alternate placement and receiving additional services.

I haven't removed his work from my bulletin boards. I don't have an intention of doing so. On the first day of school I made my students create "aspiration" balloons out of construction paper, in which they listed their 3 primary goals for the school year. I posted them, and sometimes kids from the gen ed population come into my classroom and snicker at them. But I like them, and I make my students refer back to them to measure their own progress.

After the E&A exam was completed, and the students began to remove the poster paper covering the walls, one of my students pointed out Teddy's balloon to the rest of the class. They all read it in silence, and a couple of students began to converse about Teddy's whereabouts. When one of my new students asked who Teddy was, one of my students explained to her that he went to the hospital and then transferred schools. When the new student inquired further, another student explained, "You know how words can hurt? Teddy was just hurt too much."

2bizzy2blog

2007-01-18T20:58:00.000-05:00

"Mr. Benjamin, why do girls moan when they're doing it? Mr. X say that do that because it's a lot like eating barbeque - you make noises causes cause it taste so good. But I told him he was full of sh1t, it's because they're unhappy and in pain."

"Oh, uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Robert, well. Robert, have you been watching the Spice channel again?"

That question began a rather convoluted discussion about sexual reproduction between myself and three of my male students.

As I walked to the subway station after work, I realized that this conversation was great blog banter. It also made me realize how utterly neglectful I've been in my postings. A bunch of stuff has happened over the past couple of months which curtailed my postings. In addition to the "dog ain't my homework" and "my mom couldn't help with my blog homework cause she say it too hard for her, too" obligatory excuses ... here's the deal:

1. Mr. Benjamin got into a nasty car accident and totalled his new car.
2. Mr. Benjamin wasn't seriously hurt, but had almost no recollection of the facts that transpired between impact and waking up in my house the next morning with a hospital bracelet on his wrist.
3. Mr. Benjamin then begins to have sudden anxiety attacks while driving cars, discussing cars, and even watching cars drive down the road.
4. Unable to sleep and stiffening up like a board at the mere thought of a car, Mr. Benjamin goes to shrink who prescribes some mild drugs (stingy old hag) which actually worked well (causing her to be immediately risen to the postion of good old hag I'll meet with once a month).
5. Mr. Benjamin then gets a rental car, and then (I swear you not) has another *&^Y%%% acccident within 18 hourd behind the wheel
6. Mr. Benjamin decided to leave the burbs, and found a place for himself in the Village.
7. And ....................... Mr. Benjamin was elected chaper delegate from his school.
8. And........................Finished grad school with a sweet 4.o cummulative GPA.

Now Mr. Bernjamin is bored and wants to meet some other NYC teachers to hang out with on occassion. So if there area any blog meet-ups, drop me a note.

There are a backlog of entries that I need to catch up on. Particularly the events surround U.A. and his subsequent admission to a hopsital for psychitric observation. He's not coming back, and I miss him terribly.

Hope the teaching community is alive well. I shall return shortly.

Teacher Appreciation Day

2006-11-01T19:28:00.000-05:00

Well, not really. But pretty close.

Today I had a meeting at another school for the duration of the morning. And I knew, based on a previous illness, that my class of bad-asses would take full advantage of my absence to cause as much chaos as possible. Now, don't think that I'm delusional. I know that my control of some of these kids is always in a precarious state. But for the most part, the kids do what I ask (albeit reluctantly and with much huffing and puffing).

So today, when two assistant principals, one security officer, and a substitute teacher each attempted to block my path to my classroom in order to tell me about the ordeals that they went through during my absence, I felt some sort of perverse sense of pride and acknowledgment. Something I don't feel all that often in the day to day context of job.

rhymes with tock

2006-10-30T20:42:00.000-05:00

I kid you not.

Me: Looking at the chart, what was the percentage of free African-Americans in the United States in 1860?

Teddy, A.U.: Mister, tomorrow can I come dressed like a cooowwkk?

New Loud Kid (angry): Shut the f@ck up, Teddy! Everything is cooowk, cooowk, cooowk. I'm gonna beat your ass if you say that sh%t one more time!

Teddy, A.U. (pointing at New Loud Kid): COOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWKKKK!!!!!!

New Loud Kid (standing up): Mr. Benjamin, make him STOP!

Me (so mature): You make him stop! YOU STARTED IT!

I'm a fabulous teacher. Really.

four letter words ... special ed style

2006-10-26T19:40:00.000-04:00

Being the remarkable special education teacher that I am, I managed to get a few of my former students placed into less restrictive classrooms. For this I have earned the ire of my general education colleagues who fail to view these students as welcome in their classrooms ("Oh my word, Mr. Benjamin. Clive is a real talker!" or "He just keeps getting up and looking out the window. Great at math, but really Mr. Benjamin, he's so hard to keep in his seat!"). The downside to this was a number of open seats in my class, which were quickly filled with three transfer special education students.... all with ADD! Yipppeee!

The new arrivals include:

Big Girl (ADD, Transfer)
Really Nice Kid (ADD, Transfer, New Class Alpha)
New Loud Boy (ADD, Transfer, Instigator)

So, to make a long story somewhat shorter, the class has been full of classroom powerplays to see who is going to assume what role. And for the most part, I've been somewhat successful in keeping these newly acquired roles in check (example, Really Nice Kid knows enough to not be too physically assertive as the new classroom Alpha, and New Loud Boy tries to pass out gum with a modicum of discretion). But with all of the ADD-ness in the classroom, things become a little edgy instructionally, and I'm forced to make the mini-lesson super mini, so as to keep them all in their seats for the requisite time).

Fine... anyhow... here's the latest problem.

New Loud Boy, a serious instigator in the classroom, has recruited Teddy U.A. (Undiagnosed Autist), as his latest source of amusement. Teddy, being rather noncommunicative and socially marginalized, is a quiet kid prone to explosive episodes due to his difficulties with expressive language. Now that the special ed terminology is out of the way, this just boils down to Teddy being totally confused as to how to speak with other kids and making totally baffling statements during instruction, such as the statement he made when I was discussing ocean currents and Teddy screams out ... "Mr. Benjamin... Pirates go, 'ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!'" This, of course, made the class howl, and Teddy took a fair amount of pleasure with their reaction.

So it's pretty easy to see Teddy's mind at work here. Say crazy crap (which isn't really, but for the purposes of the classroom's reaction, it is), get laughs and smiles, get gratification and feelings of collective belonging which act as an effective reinforcer, so say crazy crap again and get reward. Rinse, Lather, Repeat.

New Loud Kid, of course, quickly figures out that you can make Teddy say just about anything if it will get a laugh from the class. Two weeks ago, I was puzzled by Teddy's continual use of the word "pu$$y." He was saying it at all sorts of inappropriate times, and making the class fall apart. As Teddy is a rather large boy with a particularly low voice and impaired articulation, "pu$$y" turns into...

"POOOOOZZZZZZZYYYYY" a la Jaba the Hut.

Now if I was 12 or 13, and realized that I could make the "weird kid" say all sorts of crazy crap, I'm pretty sure that I would. For a 12 or 13 year old, that stuff is just funny. And the class thought it was hysterical, until Teddy would get angry about something or other (always at fifth period, because his fat ass would be hungry because they switched his lunch to sixth period, causing cranky Teddy to flip out at minor classroom injustices) and start calling them "pooooozzzzzzzzyyyy." I pretty much pinpointed New Loud Kid for adding to Teddy's admittedly poor lexicon, and warned the little bastard to cut the crap.

This lasted a couple of weeks, and whenever it happened I would encourage the class to simply ignore it. Unfortunately, New Loud Kid, a typical adolescent, decided that adding another word to Teddy's vocabulary would be great classroom fun, and this week the word began to slowly manifest itself.

For those of you teaching academic int#rvention, there's a new computer based reading program, expensive as all hell, that NYC has been implementing. And I teach it in typical NYC fashion... without any formal training. The program requires that you break a class into groups, and these groups rotate between computer instruction, independent/guided reading, and small group instruction. All of this with one teacher (me!) running it (at least here in OZ). Great program... blah, blah, blah... but a real bitch in practice when you're the only teacher in the room. For example, while teaching small group, howls of impatience and alarm will simultaneously burst forth from students out of all corners.

"Mr. Benjamin, this book is gay! I want another! Mr. Benjamin!!!!!!!!!!!"

"Mr. Benjamin, my computer says it's dumping memory. Is this bad?????? Help!!!!"

"Mr. Benjamin, someone stole my reading log. Wahhh!!!!!!!!!!"

All... at... once. All the time. Yet, it's a rather engaging program, so I muster on as best I can.

But this week, while I was teaching my small group stuff in another corner of the room, I can hear Teddy speaking quite unusually into the headset connected to the computer. He's doing a speaking exercise, in which the computer will display a word such as 'plant," the kid records himself saying the word, and then the kid compares his reading of the word to the actual pronunciation.

So I hear Teddy saying something odd, and go stand behind him.

The word 'crops" displays on his monitor. Teddy holds the microphone to his mouth and instead of saying 'crops' says, "Cooooooooowwwwwwwwwk."

I rip the headset from his noggin and hit the replay button. Sure enough, there's Teddy saying the word 'cock' in his own special way. I also hear New Loud Kid hysterically laughing at this whole mess that Teddy has gotten himself into. I look at New Loud Kid and tell him, "I know what you're doing! Stop it! I'm serious!"

But the seed had been planted, and for the past week everyone in the school has been subjected to Teddy loudly proclaiming...

"COOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWKKKKKKKKKKK!"

The kids thought it hilarious, and some of the staff, as well. I, on the other hand, was appalled when he said it during a fire drill in front of the principal while smiling at her with this big ass grin.

So, basically, I've been trying like hell to get him to stop saying it, and yesterday he actually did. Relief! No more "cooooooowwwwwwwwk!" being yelled incessantly. I won!

Um. No. Today, during a discussion of the importance of Uncle Tom's Cabin during the abolition movement, I thought I heard a low voice whisper, "Say it ... Cock!" I look up from the overhead projector and immediately start telling New Loud Kid, "I know what you're doing it. I know! Stop it! I'm not amused!"

Not a moment later, I hear Teddy scream... at the top of his lungs...

"COOOOOWWWWWKKKK! COWK! COWK! COWK! COWK!"

I put down my marker, and pretty quietly said, "Oh, Jesus. Here we go again."

And New Loud Kid looks at me all horrified and exclaims, "Mr. Benjamin, you shouldn't take the Lord's name in vain."

I kid you not. This boy, who told Teddy to say "pussy" and "cock", was totally serious.

hand me the stun gun, please...

2006-10-25T19:32:00.000-04:00

Yeah. Forget all that "my year is going great and I'm finally a competent teacher" crap.

My kids are horrific.

My teaching skills are evidently nil.

Another f-ing year at I.S. OZ.

Big Girl, a new admit to my class of predominately ED kids, has officially turned into the biggest pain in my ass. More so because she keeps asking me ****everyday*** after a full day of fighting, cutting class, running the hallways, cursing out every administrator, jumping sixth graders in the stairwell, and allowing dozens of eighth grade boys to fondle every part of her body...

"Mr. Benjamin, I've been a good girl today? I'm a good girl, right Mr. Benjamin? Will you call my momma and tell her I've been a good girl?"

And every time she asks ... I bust out laughing at her.

Should have knocked on wood...

2006-10-13T22:15:00.000-04:00

Unfortunately, yesterday marked the first fight to go down in my classroom this year.

Computer printer destroyed, the class pet cage "almost" shattered, and I went tumbling to the floor while attempting to intervene in the whole matter after security failed to arrive after two phone calls (I know, I know... don't break up student fights).

When asked why the altercation began, U.A. simply stated ...

"He was looking at me."

Otherwise, all is well.

Sorry that there isn't anything of real interest to report. So far, my biggest battles have transpired over gum chewing and students not raising their hands before answering.

Speaking of which... any good suggestions on how to handle chronic gum chewing problems? Should I just let it go? Or keep up the fight?

Mr. Benjamin - Version 3.0

2006-10-06T18:30:00.000-04:00

To those of you that have been kind enough to send me e-mails over the course of the summer and beginning of the school year ... thank you.

There was a significant portion of my summer spent considering the transfer to another school, and alternatively, leaving the profession of education altogether. I elected to not accept a position at a much better, succeeding (indeed thriving) middle school in a very attractive area of NYC. The reason for this choice was concrete enough to me, but not to many others... I just had a "feeling." I wanted out, I didn't want to teach, I didn't feel like a teacher. Why impose myself upon a new school, and a new classroom of students, with such serious doubt?

I was informed by my principal at the end of the school year that I would be "looping" with my seventh graders to the eighth grade at I.S. OZ. I was stunned that I would have to return to the same group of students. I was convinced that I was being punished by my prince for my many misdeeds. I had become a vocal opponent of the administration at faculty meetings. I loudly decried the lack of appropriate resources for my students. I had become ... a total pain in the ass. So my punishment was another year of lunacy and violence with the same exact students. When I asked the prince to actually give me her reason for the assignment, I was told that the students had made progress, "relatively", and were finally under control, "relatively."

So with those words I left for my summer vacation and continued with my grad classes. I then went to Alaska, and after drinking an abnormal amount, engaging in much lascivious behavior (cough, cough), and enveloped in some of the most brilliant scenery and wildlife I could ever imagine, I went back to I.S. OZ with a chip on my shoulder. The F@ellows program was inept and a scam, the school hopeless, my teaching abilities abhorrent, my students perverse and beyond intervention.

I only bought enough bulletin board paper to cover the "big" boards that hung in my classroom. I wasn't investing anymore, personally or financially.

And then the first day of school came around, and off to collect my charges I went. I collected their hugs and handshakes with happiness, but all the while doubted their sincerity. I then reviewed the years' procedures and goals, while trying to suppress the doubt I had in myself and their abilities. And then the year began.

And it has been spectacular.

I'm teaching, for the first time in my own estimation, well. Things that were so difficult in the past, such as classroom management and lesson planning, now seem instinctive. Difficult situations have occurred already, but I seem to feel myself more capable and effective in handle them. So I'm cautiously optimistic. And quietly happy that I chose not to throw in the towel too early.

So, now that the sappy crap is out of the way, my favorite part of this week was when my UA (Undiagnosed Autist) exclaimed to another student:

"Motherfuc&er head, get the fu*ck out of my desk!"

And I replied:

"AU! Good for you! Nice way to express that you're unhappy. Once we get the potty-talk out of that sentence, I'll be even happier!"

His reply to me?

"What's that, motherfuc&er head?

Still. It's progress. Not appropriate. But progress.

can you hear me?

2006-05-08T17:06:00.000-04:00

UFT STORY

Honestly, I hate cell phones in school. It took my classes about three months to figure out that I will snatch them away and make them beg for clemency before I return them. I also know that many teachers are afraid to take away a cell phone out of fear of having a physical altercation with a student, and/or the risk you take when you confiscate potentially expensive items. Dealing with cell phone use in the classroom just sucks all around.

Now, I'm not a parent nor a father. But, I do understand the need for these kids to have their phones. If I lived in the area my students live in .... well, suffice it to say my kid would have a cell on him/her at all times and would be talking to Daddy a whole lot as s/he walked to and from school.

I have two kids in my extended-time period who call their mothers at work immediately after the dismissal bell rings to let them know that they are heading home. To me, this seems like responsible parents maintaining appropriate contact with, and oversight of, their children.

Unfortunately, the DOE doesn't seem to agree. So now Randi is off crusading around the issue, Klein is digging in his heels, and the policy war had commenced. What... the ... %^&*... ever.

non-culminating

2006-05-07T16:17:00.000-04:00

Just finished my culminating master's research project. Woohoo! I was excited for about a half minute until I remembered that their is nothing "cumulative" about it. As I started my program midyear, I still have to complete another 5 classes over the summer and fall semesters. Regardless, I'm REALLY happy that 600 pound gorilla is off my back, and I can now see the light at the end of the ed school tunnel.

To make matters even that much better, I also planned out a one week unit regarding plot and folk tales. It's planned for one week, but I can see it easily taking two. I pulled all of the information and 6 variations of the Cinderella tale from the MarcoPolo website, which is now my absolutest, favoritest, bestest teacher website for lesson planning. Many of the lesson plans are easily modifiable for special education students, and the links to primary documents are the bomb. I heart MarcoPolo and their sponsors.

Now I'm weighing the option of having my students make masks resembling the costumes worn by the Patriots during the Boston Tea Party. It requires buckram, paint, scissors, and the students sitting still long enough to make an impression of their face. The scissors and paint portion of the project scare me enough to just say, "Oh, hell no!" But the project is pretty cool, and I'm leaning on the side of going ahead with it.

Now I just have to find "buckram" and some tranquilizers for the boys.

halos for everyone

2006-05-05T21:05:00.000-04:00

Yesterday's extended-time detention (and a loooooong lecture by me) evidently had some effect.

Each and everyone of my students, all known to arrive at school excessively late, were promptly sitting behind their desks when the first period bell rang.

They raised their hands.

They said "thank you" when I handed out pencils and handed me their "collateral" without so much as a peep.

One even asked permission to sharpen his pencil.

When my para walked into the class, and saw the boys seated and working diligently in silence, he looked at me and whispered, "What the f@ck?"

I got to enjoy two whole periods of this. Whoever gave my students temporary labotomies, I thank you.

Do Now, Do Later, Just Hush Your Mouth

2006-05-04T21:32:00.000-04:00

I'm still shaking my head at the insanity that transpired in my room this afternoon with the boys.

In they came in all hyped from lunch, unable to do anything but run about the room, hitting one another, and hurling vulgarities. Although this is typical behavior, I can generally get them settled in after aboutt 30 minutes of nonsense.

Yes. It does take me 30 minutes to settle in this class of ED boys. It's crazy, but that's the way it has been this year. Given that we have a triple period, we do get some work done after a lot of screaming, threats, and pleas for some semblance of order. But after 10 minutes it quickly became apparent that today's behaviors were just that more extreme, unusual, and offensive that my para and I quickly realized that we were dealing with an entirely different type of problem.

Actually, he realized it before me and quickly moved his chair in order to block the door. "Mr. Benjamin, we're gonna have some runners today. I can tell. Gonna block these crazy-ass boys."

Unfortunately, he was all too correct. The boys were totally out of their minds and made every effort to flee the classroom in order to spread their unique madness throughout the school.

A whole bunch of stuff happened after that, but all of the details are now lost to me. I seriously think that I'm beginning to suffer from post-tr@umatic stress disor*er. Unfortunately, the "post" part is still seven or so weeks away.

The day ended with an extended day detention. I held their extended day cutting butts until the last bell rang. Their apologies and testaments to better behavior blissfully ignored.

Gah...

2006-05-02T18:22:00.003-04:00

For a number of reasons, the word "Gah!" has been spilling out of my mouth a lot the last couple of days. This has taken the place of the f-bomb, which I feel is simply inappropriate for a teacher to utter in a middle school (see, I have standards). Gah is now my f-bomb.

Today, I Gah-ed...

The principal when she informed me that I was being assigned my absolute last choice in assignments.

The assistant principal who made a stupid comment in front of one of my students.

That bastard teacher that works across the hall after he made some condescending remark.

A drunk parent on the phone (Gah!)

The aide that lost a book of poetry that I sent down for photocopies. (Gah! Gah!)

And, of course, the letter I found in my mailbox regarding a series of PD sessions... on Saturdays.

But the biggest Gah! was heard when one of my students got up from his desk and punched his fist through a window, causing much blood and a trip to the hospital.

I can handle all of the situations above, with the exception of next year's assignment. That, I believe, resolved any doubts that I had about transferring. Yup, it sure did.

Poem In Your Pocket Day

2006-04-28T18:34:00.000-04:00

Said the little boy, "Sometimes I drop my spoon."
Said the little old man, "I do that too."
The little boy whispered, "I wet my pants."
"I do that too," laughed the the little old man.
Said the little boy, "I often cry."
Th old man nodded, "So do I."
"But worst of all," said the little boy, "it seems
Grown-ups don't pay attention to me."
And he felt the warmth of a wrinkled old hand.
"I know what you mean," said the little old man.

- Shel Silverstein

nine and a half weeks to go

2006-04-23T18:54:00.000-04:00

I'm out of here for a couple of weeks.

Graduate school + IEPs + Interviews + My Students = One Very Stressed Out Yomister

Keep yourself busy. Click on the link to the right and donate to Ms. Frizzle's blogger challenge!

damn paperwork

2006-04-20T16:37:00.000-04:00

Special education and paperwork go hand in hand.

Unless, of course, you work in Fitchburg, Massachusetts where the number of students classified with mental retardation is four times the state average.

Wonder why?

SEE STORY

unfortunately, not a shocker

2006-04-11T17:24:00.000-04:00

During the course of a coverage last week, an eighth grade boy found this in his desk. I showed it to an AP, and after he decided that it would be impossible to track the "owner" down, I put it into my briefcase and promptly forgot about it.

It appears to have been manipulated to be some sort of "shocking" mechanism. Nice, huh?

It's now in the possession of the school.

Gansta Thug Boy gives me a ring

2006-04-09T19:12:00.000-04:00

In order to facilitate parent-teacher communications, I frequently give out my number to parents. Unfortunately, GTB likes to call me for a variety of reasons. Here's this evening's phone call:

"Hello?"

"Hi, who is this?"

"Robert."

"Oh. I need to talk to Mr. Benjamin."

"This is he. Who is this?"

"Oh. Hi, Mr. B. This is Gary. Do we have school tomorrow?"

"Ummm. Yeah."

"You sure? Why we got school?"

"Because we do. Vacation starts on Thursday, Gary."

"Fuck!"

"What did you just say?"

"Yo! I said 'fuck' by mistake, Mr. B! Sorry."

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Oh, shit! Do we have homework?"

"Watch the mouth! Of course you have homework."

"What it be?"

"It would be the assignment that I wrote in the box on the blackboard that says 'Homework'. "

(In all honesty, I couldn't for the life of me remember what the homework was.)

"Oh. So what you doin'?"

(I was actually standing half naked in the bathroom about to take a shower)

"Report cards, Gary."

"Did I pass? You pass me, right?"

"I haven't decided. But the faster we get off the phone, Gary, the better your chances."

"Oh! Then I be hangin' up fast. Later, Mr. B!"

In the background I hear, "Fuck. I got school tomorrow! Shit! And that man always be giving homework! Huh? No. He cool. He just expects too much!"

countdown to break

2006-04-05T17:02:00.000-04:00

It happens to everyone. You work your ass off planning a unit. You smile. You introduce it with enthusiasm. You think you're the shit for being so smart to think up such an ingenious unit. And then it flops, sinks, bombs.

The kids that are supposed to be engaged are throwing pencils at each other, bickering, proclaiming you the devil for subjecting them to such a horrific learning experience.

So you adjust, make corrections, try to reclaim just a tad of enthusiasm for the whole thing. But the kids aren't having it. Too hard, too long, too many drafts. Oh, the incessant whining.

So you stop pleading and start threatening.

Detention everyday until morale improves!

Failing final quarter marks for those bold enough to defy your teacher's wishes!

Parent conferences for the lot of you that are even thinking of sucking in your teeth with that obnoxious "pffft" when I tell you to get back on task!

And then you get in your car. And it hits you. You're being a tool.

So you go home and scale down the unit to something more manageable. Something that won't spark a massive rebellion. Something that doesn't require three rubrics. Yeah, you're losing a lot, but at least you're not losing everything.

And you make a back-up copy of the unit. Because you know inside that with enough tinkering and alteration, there is a good unit in there somewhere.

Just not now.

extended joy

2006-04-03T16:49:00.000-04:00

Three things that are messing with my head:

1. While climbing the stairwell on my way to my classroom, I stumbled upon a large piece of human feces and urine. The feces was, err, definitely human and not from a child. I notified the main office with my best "this isn't my first time coming across this kind of thing" tone of voice, although truthfully, I just wanted to run out of the building in total disgust that I work in such an environment...as a teacher.

2. I'm a wee bit behind in the history curriculum. By about a century or so. Yep.

3. It was strongly suspected that one of my students was carrying a weapon. I notified admin and the child was searched. Nothing was found. Child later boasted in homeroom that he threw the contraband out the window before the search. I'm all "Dang! I just want this little bastard suspended! He's driving me nuts!" when I know I should be more "caring and understanding" (but sometimes that's so hard).

Stossel and the Randi Challenge

2006-04-02T12:34:00.001-04:00

The UFT article is here.

Honestly, with all of the problems confronting our schools and students, I think that the UFT seriously needs to reassess their priorities.

Perhaps like this one, taken from the DOE's Hehir report (independent fact finder on students with disabilities serviced by the NYC DOE):

45% of students with disabilities drop out of NYC public schools.

Of those that remain, a mere 28% receive a Regents or local diploma (the vast majority receiving the local).

The end result? Only 15% of students with disabilities, serviced by the NYC DOE, actually remain in school and graduate with a workforce-appropriate credential.

Randi? Plan on any big protests for this?

humper, part II

2006-03-28T22:13:00.000-05:00

Today, as I was attempting to start a DVD (of the highest educational quality .... yeah, right) for my class, I was unable to locate the remote.

As I wandered around my desk searching for the damn thing, one of my students yelled out, "Yo, Mister! Lenny put the remote down his pants!"

And sure enough, he had.

As I apprehensively approached Lenny, he stood up, did a thrust-n-grind, and then proceeded to try and turn on the DVD player through the fabric of his pants.

Bah.

humper

2006-03-22T17:07:00.000-05:00

Lenny (English Language Learner Lenny) and I have hit a bump in the road. As in there isn't a lot of learning going on. There are a number of possible reasons for this, including:

1. I'm not qualified to teach a child diagnosed with a learning disability (in Spanish) in ESL.

2. The region has not sent a bilingual paraprofessional in almost a month.

3. Lenny is just too damn horny to learn a goddamn thing.

Right now, I'm betting that it's 25% reason #1 and 75% reason #3.

Lenny's emerging sexuality has been hard NOT to notice. He likes to get up in front of the class and do his little "in and out" pelvis thrust dance. He really likes to yell out, "Yo! No one wanna suck my dick? No one?" And, he really likes to hump my desk when my back is turned.

He humped it a lot today. Too many times for me to pretend that I didn't see it. Too many times for me not to address it. Too many times all around.

So as best I could, I sat Lenny down and told him that he would have to "cool it" with the "sexy stuff."

"Why no sexy stuff?"

"Well, it's not good. No, sex is good ... err... love is good, but not on my desk. You know?"

"Whatcha mean, mister?"

"No more hump-hump on the desk, okay?"

"Okay."

"And no more hootchy-cootchy dance, okay?"

"No, I do dance. I like."

"No. No dance. Not good. Girls don't like your dance. Not appropriate in the classroom. Okay?"

"No. I do dance. I like. You give me pen and I stop."

"Oh. Huh. Here you go, sport. It's all yours. I'll give you the pen, and you stop the hootchy-cootchy dance."

"Okay."

"And no more hump-hump on my desk. Okay?"

"Shit! Leggo the pen! I no hump. Okay?"

And with that, Lenny left my class, pen in hand.

As he was about to walk out the door, he stopped, made a couple of pelvic thrusts, laughed wildly, and disappeared.

Ack! There's something about adolescent sexuality that makes me so uneasy.

the problem with paras

2006-03-20T17:02:00.000-05:00

Although the issue is being addressed over on the AFT website (see), I'm having a bit of a problem myself.

My dearly loved classroom para for my class of boys has taken a leave of absence. The boys are a maddening crew, always ready to fight one another at the slightest provocation. They swear like sailors, mercilessly tease one another, and like to do just about anything other than sit in a classroom and work. Currently my roster indicates that I should have a class of 9, but with suspensions and all, I generally have about 7. Due to the school's/region's/ city's policy of placement, my class has two very docile (vulnerable) students mixed in with the rough-housers.

Dear Para, having many years of experience, sheltered the docile boys from the brunt of much of the nonsense. She has excellent one-on-one teaching skills, and could handle the very worst the boys dished out. I've learned a lot from her. What she failed to tell me about was how to handle her replacement.

The sub para is evidently overwhelmed with the boys, and by all accounts, intimidated by them. For a week and a half, I have hinted, nudged, and suggested. I have given detailed histories of each of the students, explained the needs and supports of the students, and have directed her about the routines and procedures of the classroom. Yet ... nothing.

Sub para continually elects to hide in a corner (literally), far away from the students, and will only interact with them when instructed to. Today, when I asked how a particular student was holding up in his other classes, she asked, "which one is that?" Lady, you've been with this class for a week and a half, and you don't know their names? There's only seven of them!

Of course, this all means a bunch of meetings need to be held with sub para, and then a meeting with the AP. She doesn't want to be there. I don't want her to be there. And the boys are losing an important structural support for the duration.

walk the plank

2006-03-19T20:28:00.000-05:00

My pirate name is:

Mad James Read

Every pirate is a little bit crazy. You, though, are more than just a little bit. Even through many pirates have a reputation for not being the brightest souls on earth, you defy the sterotypes. You've got taste and education. Arr!

Get your own pirate name from fidius.org.

help wanted - USVI

2006-03-18T09:31:00.000-05:00

I probably couldn't afford to live on the salary that they're offering, and lawd only knows what the working conditions are like, but they do need special education teachers.

help wanted

And look! They even have recruitment songs!

tunes

overheard in the hallway

2006-03-17T19:23:00.000-05:00

Kid: Yo, Mr. B be mad fast! That man be grabbing away alls your shit! Man got a closet full of shit he grabbed away from kids. Sodas, CD players, basketballs. Oh! Hi, Mr. B!

Yomister's Official Inventory List of Confiscated Property

2 bags of sunflower seeds (since eaten by school rats)
4 bottles of soda
1 Teen People
3 Basketballs
1 Football
5 braids of synthetic hair (now there is a story)
4 CDs of unknown artists
1 Superball
1 Address book (sans entries)
1 Cell Phone (broken)
1/2 eaten package of Starbursts (evidently not a rat's treat of choice)
2 pages ripped out of a Victoria's Secret catalog
1 set of headphones for CD/MP3 player

... and

1 pair of XL boxers (pale blue with white stripes; why the boys were playing around with these is beyond me)

two words

2006-03-14T19:56:00.000-05:00

testing irregularities

that's all I'm saying. Yup.

damn you, Orville

2006-03-13T18:43:00.000-05:00

Last night I awoke with the feeling that barbed wire had been inserted into my intestines. It didn't take too long to figure out that the bag of microwave popcorn I consumed was making a rather unpleasant... uh... exit. Or, conversely, not exiting. To make matters that much more complicated, I also began sneezing. Not a good combination.

At five in the morning, I pretty much figured out that:

Popcorn Problem + Head Cold = Banging a Sick Call.

(I'm a genius like that.)

So after doing the new fangled "sub" internet-thingy to announce my absence, I got an entire morning to just hang around in bed, groan a bit, and have a couple of fantasies about bitch-slapping Orville Redenbacher. I also came to a couple of realizations and resolutions.

1. I have to emotionally step back a bit from my students. I do care about them, but with 3.5 months left in the school year, I also have to drastically reduce my stress level if I'm gonna make it. Honestly, on Friday I thought I might have a heart attack. I'll redirect, encourage, and reprimand as needed, but I'm not chasing them down for missed homework/projects and the myriad of other crap I do on a daily basis. No more battles over soda, food, being late for class, cursing at one another, and so on. A polite "not appropriate, miss" will have to suffice. And a notation in my log. Daddy needs to seriously mellow out. Preferably without the aid of prescription drugs. And, I don't want to find myself waking up in the morning during June grinning at a gin and tonic and declaring, "Yum! Breakfast!" Nope. I sure don't. I save that for July.

2. Graduate school will likewise have to be placed in perspective. I think it's a horrendous program to begin with, so maintaining this 4.0 has gotta come way down on the priority scale. And it's time to make some of these tedious reflections fiction. Some opening sentences may include:

"I kick the children and I believe that this may be inappropriate."

"While the children were finishing their compositions, I ate a pastrami sandwich and drank a beer."

"I convinced my emotionally disabled students that it is okay to pull the fire alarm. It was a beautiful day and I wanted to get some air."

"I ran out of reward stickers, so I gave all my top performers a cigarette. And then I let them smoke during group work. It made me giggle to hear them all cough during accountable talk."

3. Um. And the social life thing? Yup. Gotta get back on top of that.

Thanks, Orville. I needed the day off.

(And thank god I don't have this problem.)

...

2006-03-11T09:33:00.000-05:00

Mom called late Thursday evening to tell me of her night out with the girls. They went to see Brokeback Mountain. This was definitely not an issue I wanted to discuss at the moment.

"What's wrong? Why so quiet?"

And then I explained the series of events that led to the "boohoo-for-me" episode.

This was followed by a prolonged silence. I'm not a crying-type of guy. In fact, I can't even recall the last time I have cried. Middle school, maybe? Twenty plus years ago?

"Why the silence?" I asked.

I held my breath waiting for the response.

"I don't know what to say."

I have never heard my mother say those words... in my entire life.

After a bit more silence, I was basically "told" that I would be joining her for drinks, dinner, and a movie on Friday night. And reluctantly, I complied.

When I arrived at the house, exhausted, I was given a quick "no talking about work" lecture and then we were off for a fantastic dinner followed by seeing Capote. Ah. So nice to finally be distracted from school.

At this point, I'm pretty much fed up with the school and my students. I'm fed up with graduate school and all of their nonsense. I'm finished with the parents. You wanna bitch-n-whine when I call to tell you about the problems your child is experiencing? Fine. Let these problems grow and intensify. In a couple of more years, you'll be lucky to have someone keeping such a close eye on your kid. Stop giving me that odd "who is this little white guy look" when I call you in for a meeting to tell you that your boys is covered in gang colors every morning. Really, what do I know? You want to know about how many young men I watched get sentenced to prison when I practiced law? Or do you want to hear about my student from last year who got his faced slashed from his forehead to his chin as he was walking to school, late, and wearing his fucking colors? But, hey. At least he's not dead. So, all is cool. Right?

But guess what? I am going to keep calling. And sending you notes. And holding your boy for detention (all ten minutes of it, so says the DOE). Because maybe, just maybe, you or your kid will wise the fuck up.

*ending this post abruptly before I implode*

is this worth it?

2006-03-09T16:37:00.000-05:00

Today, after a triple period followed by extended time, I placed my head on my desk ... and cried. Not sobs, just some tears that seemed to well up. A first for me.

The meetings with the parents, the effort expended in attempting to educate students that the school would prefer to ignore, the lack of professional and interpersonal support, the dearth of resources and the hours searching for (and modifying) materials - it all takes its toll eventually.

And today it did.

brawl

2006-03-08T18:17:00.000-05:00

Oh, man.

The boys had a hell of a brawl in my class this afternoon.

Thank god it was after the wonks from the region did a surprise walk through.

I've called all the parents.

Tomorrow. 7:30AM meeting with ALL of parents.

I've already pre-arranged suspensions for the lot of them.

I shiver just thinking about what their behavior will be like come June.

accomplishment

2006-02-27T20:07:00.000-05:00

Dan entered my classroom this year with only minimal phonemic awareness due to a traum@tic br@in injury.

When we started, he could only recognize the alphabet with approximately 60% accuracy.

Today, Dan read:

mat
hat
fat
bat

These are the first words he's read in three years.

This is the reason why I teach.

welcome back

2006-02-27T16:32:00.000-05:00

Oh, there is nothing harder than getting out of bed after a vacation. Nothing.

Driving to school this morning, I was totally preoccupied in making some adjustments to my lesson plans. One section of my students is well beyond the other, and I'm somewhat losing my mind keeping track of what, and what has not, been covered on any given day. Last Friday, I actually ***retaught** a lesson for almost 15 minutes before one of my kids threw me a clue that I had already covered the material. The rest of the class was delighted with all of my "Wow! You guys are smart!" comments, and were more than happy to let the fiasco continue for as long as possible. The snitch had to endure about a half-dozen pencils thrown at him in retaliation. A practice that I discourage, but found amusing nonetheless.

So as I dragged my ass into my classroom, after electing to give the "fast" class some extra independent reading time, I just about crapped myself when I looked over into a corner of my classroom and found a....

brand...
new...
effing...
desktop!

Where it came from, and why it's in my classroom, remains a mystery.

But I am delighted.

Or was, until Gansta Thug Boy asked me when he would be dismissed.

"Uh. 2:57:30?"

"Dang! I wanna get home and beat my meat, yo!"

"No problem. I'll be happy to call your mother and explain the situation."

"No. No, no, no!!! I be jokin', mister! Please don't call? Please!!!"

mr. b's snarky morning

2006-02-26T12:15:00.000-05:00

When I woke up this morning, I felt like all 21 of my students were sitting at the end of my bed taunting me.

"Wake up, sir. Tomorrow we start again. More whining, more fighting, more swearing! Oh, yes. And the complaining. We plan to complain from the start of the day to the bitter end. Work? No work from us, sir. However, we will complain when you try to make us do some. Get out of bed. Today is your last day of vacation. Get ready, sir. Rise and shine! School starts tomorrow!"

Bah.

recruitment

2006-02-23T17:27:00.000-05:00

For someone that teaches at school where the vast majority of teachers have been recruited from other countries, I've always been a bit curious as to where the BOE is looking for their next teachers.

Just for fun I checked out the teachny.com website and came across their latest recruitment tour.

So far:

New York
Texas
Maryland
Delaware
Ohio
North Carolina
Michigan
Florida
Pennsylvania
Georgia
Washington
Oregon
Rhode Island
California
Massachusetts
Puerto Rico
and
Austria

zip it

2006-02-18T16:55:00.000-05:00

Time: Friday, last period.

(Andrew is talking loudly as I'm attempting to start class)

Me: Andrew! Ughhhhh!

Andrew: Chill, yo! I'm closing my pie hole. Happy?

get off my roster

2006-02-18T09:53:00.000-05:00

As mentioned in a prior post, two new students were placed on my class roster. One of the students, Cory, assaulted a teacher last year and went to a suspension center for a year. The other student, Keevan, has been bouncing in and out of suspension, and was re-evaluated for a more restrictive setting. Both boys were scheduled to start my class at the same time.

Cory and I spent less than 20 minutes together. He appeared at my morning homeroom and that was about it. Keevan appeared in my room with his mother, but was soon paged over the P.A. to return to the main office. Both students are once again in a suspension center. Why?

Because before morning homeroom began, the boys jumped another student walking to school. They beat this student (special ed) with a metal pipe. For a dollar. Cory even wore a ski mask to hide his identity. His planning was for naught, as a school safety officer (on his way to work) observed Cory running from the scene.

On Friday, as I was pulling together all of my paperwork to bring home during the break, I noticed that Cory's IEP is due in two weeks. Ugh!

After meeting with my A.P., the school psychologist, and a bunch of other administrators, and adamantly arguing that I will not write an IEP for a student I don't know, I'm still stuck. This is bullshit. I know nothing of this child's academic abilities or performance. And it appears that the more that I argue that I won't write this IEP, the greater the likelihood that I'll get an official reprimand for insubordination (as stated by one administrator).

Fine. I'll write the dumb thing. But every page will state: TEACHER OF RECORD HAS NO INSTRUCTIONAL HISTORY WITH CHILD AND CANNOT MAKE ANY STATEMENTS AS TO CHILD'S PAST, PRESENT, OR ANTICIPATED ABILITIES OR BEHAVIORS. A REVIEW OF THE DOCUMENTS PROVIDED TO TEACHER OF RECORD INDICATE ...

And I will not revise it, reprimand or not.

pimp daddy

2006-02-14T17:58:00.000-05:00

This morning during first period, I made the keen observation that a disproportionate number of students were wearing red today. And carrying gifts. And unusually giddy. And yet somehow, for some reason, I was so thoroughly self-absorbed in my normal morning thoughts that I somehow neglected to tie these blatant clues to the fact that today was Valentine's Day.

As I awaited the first period siren to ring (as my school elected to install a "bell" system that rivals the local fire station's and is audible within a two block proximity to the school), there was a knock on my classroom door. After barking at the boys to stay in their goddamn seats, I answered the door to find not one, not two, but four female students awaiting me.

In unison they loudly yelled, "Happy Valentine's Day, Mr. B!"

And then immediately ran down the hallway, giggles in tow.

Mr. B was later informed that he is "officially" the "bomb" of the special education sixth grade girls, and that their act of courage at my door had been meticulously planned during yesterday's mathematics class. Or so I was told by their math teacher, who was none too pleased that their planning had significantly interfered with said teacher's review of polynomials.

A very sweet portion to an otherwise wholly uneventful (one can read in to that quite literally, dear readers) Valentine's.

no snow day for you

2006-02-13T16:27:00.000-05:00

Oh, well. Although I sat at my computer last night with the child-like hope that there might be a snow day, unfortunately there was not. Part of that hope was a result of my own irritation at having to develop an alternate set of lesson plans, knowing that the majority of my students (who live only blocks from the school) would not be in attendance. I originally had planned to have my little monsters work on a guided composition, but instead developed a lesson identifying elements of fiction and making predictions. Blah.

Altogether, 10 of my 19 students appeared at school at various times, a much higher turnout than I had anticipated.

Toby, a student with rather severe ADHD, once again lost his mind when the 37.5 minutes came about. He elected to spend the time all bundled up in his coat and hood, circle around the classroom, and repeatedly announce that he was far too smart to be held like a "prisoner" at school.

"Okay, listen, sit down and let's do some work."

"Hell, no! Hell, no! I ain't doin' nothin'. Nothin'."

This exchange went on for some time, until I hit my frustration threshold and gave him the pass to the boys' room with the stipulation that he remain in there for a minimum of 25 minutes. Toby found the resolution satisfactory, but did return within 5 minutes a bit calmer and focused, much to my other students' relief.

The tutoring time has definitely lost its novelty factor with the other kids in my group. Considering that I have them for 3 period before tutoring, Mondays are definitely a grind for all of us.

Is anybody doing something really out of the ordinary with their alloted time? If so, I would love to hear about it.

snow

2006-02-12T12:07:00.000-05:00

Dear Glove:

Why must you always feel the need to separate yourself from your partner? Other Glove has gone missing at a most inconvenient time. Please try to remain together at all times, particularly during blizzards.

Given your pedigree (Coach), I would have expected more from you.

Sincerely,

Mr. Boomer

just a thought

2006-02-09T21:32:00.000-05:00

It may have taken 5 months or so to come to this realization...

but I really like my students.

new students

2006-02-08T16:42:00.000-05:00

This morning I was introduced to one of my new students. I've seen him many times before running the hallways or cursing out one of the administrators. So when he entered my (empty) classroom with his mother and guidance counselor, I made every attempt to make him and his mom feel comfortable. Keevan wouldn't look me in the eye. He stood straight with his eyes fixed on the floor. He wouldn't shake my hand, nor would he answer any of my questions.

As I was telling his mother that I would do my best to acclimate him to my classroom, a PA was made requesting that Keevan and his mother return to the main office. And off they went.

I didn't see Keevan after that. Nor did I see my other new student.

Later in the day, when I was at another school for a meeting, the two boys were arrested for jumping another student on their way to school. The victim's mother elected to press charges.

There's so much that bothers me about today. Part of me feels guilty; I was not looking forward to the effort that I would have to expend to try and situate these troubled boys into what is certainly a difficult class. And part of me is simply angry. Angry to have to repeatedly see young male adolescents taken away in handcuffs from a middle school.

Angry that these boys' futures are already so compromised.

The gods must be crazy

2006-02-07T21:17:00.000-05:00

Dear New Student:

Thanks for all of the fun today. And thanks for covering my room in gang graffiti. I had a blast chasing you down in the hallways, and answering the dozen calls from the office imploring me to somehow restrain you within a classroom. Haha! You sure did cause some chaos, didn't ya?

Well, tomorrow is a new day. I wanted to tell you about all the fun were gonna have with your new Behavior Intervention Plan, but you cut school before I had a chance. No worries. Well discuss it tomorrow because I'll be keeping you in my classroom ... ALL DAY. Fun, right? No, you won't be chasing the rest of the class as they transition between classes. You'll be with me. ALL DAY. Even lunch.

What's that? You wanna cut? Or do you want me to get a 1:1 para to tag along next to you for the rest of your middle school days? And man, given that you won't be graduating middle school until the cusp of your 17th birthday, might I give you a piece of advice? Having a 1:1 para sitting next to you in the cafeteria is a sure way to never have a girlfriend. Trust me.

Have a good night's rest. Because tomorrow you'll be working. Hard.

Sincerely,
Mr. B

Extra minutes

2006-02-06T17:16:00.000-05:00

Well, no real problems today with the implementation of the new "tutoring" time. The school scheduled 5 students on my roster (special ed) and I was able to trade a couple of the boys with another special ed teacher who is focusing on mathematics. Unfortunately, 2 of my students (boys) are kind of rough in the disposition area, so that will be a relative challenge in getting them to "work" rather than "complain" for 37.5 minutes.

The administration did hand out some lessons to use, but they were far above the reading abilities of my students and thus worthless.

One of the boys was running around the room flipping out about being held and kept insisting on leaving.

"Will you write me up?"

"Well, I will mark that you weren't here on the scan sheet. But I'm not going to body block you from leaving."

"So, can I leave?"

"No. But I can't stop you and I don't think it's wise if you leave."

And with that ... he was gone.

After the tutoring time, the staff was summoned to the auditorium for a meeting (something which I totally forgot about and made me less than pleased). 40 minutes of, "yadda, yadda, yadda." And that ended my day.

Two new students will be entering my classroom tomorrow, both with significant emotional problems. And both with a history of suspension center sentences for assaulting one or more of their teachers. Honestly, if one of these boys dares to hit me ... I'm out.

A questionable memory...

2006-02-05T19:02:00.000-05:00

Perhaps I'm wrong, but I can somewhat remember the UFT telling the membership that this "tutoring" time would be absent of lesson planning and grades.

Guess what I'm doing?

Lesson planning.

And according to my school, I will also be assigning grades.

Who knew?

*Muttering to myself, "It's for the children! It's for the children!"*

Things I Did and Saw Today...

2006-01-31T17:46:00.000-05:00

Asked by the AP to run up two flights of stairs, on command, in order to corner students suspected of smoking.
Threatened to cut off the hands of one of my students who was digging through my desk without permission. Again.
Informed the class of the death of Coretta Scott King right before I started a mini-lesson on Martin Luther and the Protestant Reformation. This caused profound confusion. "Yo! Reverend King lived in the 1500's?"
Watched a seventh grade girl take a serious slap in the face after she called another girl a "whore." The whack was so loud and hard I yelped, "Daaaammmmmn!"
Pretended that I didn't care in the least when informed that I would be getting a new, highly volatile, and physically violent student in my class next week.
Informed all of my students that I was failing them for the 3rd quarter unless they get their hygiene under control.

Reflecting Deeply on Stupidity

2006-01-30T18:28:00.001-05:00

The madness starts again.

In another post I commented on the (excessive) reflections that I had to write for graduate school last semester. I was hoping that this semester might be a bit lighter in the reflection department.

Alas, my hopes were dashed Thursday night when my (new) professor gave out a syllabus that was strikingly similar to the prior syllabus. In fact, it was the same syllabus, only with some minor changes (you know, like subject title and stuff). Seems as though new professor asked old professor for her syllabus format and liked the reflection business so much that she decided to keep it.

Good god.

"Reflection on your Reflective Journal Entry due **/!!/****"

Great. Reflecting on reflections. Just like 蜡笔小新 commented about.

Student Removal Fun

2006-01-30T17:25:00.000-05:00

Fridays are one of those difficult days for me to settle in one of my classes. They come to me from lunch for three periods of instruction. They all have significant reading delays and impairments, and although I know they like me as a person, they really hate the daily grind of trying to do something they find so difficult to do. The fact that my classroom is not equipped with any reading material nearly at their level compounds the frustration.

Now that the EL% exam is behind us, I've been expanding the activities to more of a high interest/low frustration level. But Fridays have always been a difficult day. They've already been stuck in another teacher's room for three periods, and come lunch time, these kids are cooked (and crazy). So in anticipation of this, I chose an activity that was moderately fun and relaxed.

The problems started when not one student showed up for the class on time. And I'm not talking about 2 or 3 minutes. I'm talking 10-12 minutes. This was a surprise, because the day before I called a parent during our class to inform them that their dear son miraculously appeared at my door 25 minutes after the bell. They were all listening intently, and they know how I feel about the tardy thingy.

Once they do trickle in, I get a bunch of sad ass excuses until one of them spills the beans to tell me that they were on another floor to watch a fight. Charming. As I start to settle them in, one of the boys (who I've had a hell of a time with this year, I must say) strolls in, takes his cell phone out, and plops his ass on top of a desk. Grrrr. I tell this misguided youngster to get his ass off the desk (I used the word "rear"), stash the phone, and to zip his mouth. His response? "I ain't botherin' nobody! Leave me the f*uck alone!"

It's Friday. I'm tired. I'm freaking exhausted. I'm at my boiling point. So I step into the hallway, spot a teacher on "hall patrol", and tell him to get this kid out of my room. I've been down this road with said child before. He will not listen. He will not come around. He has started the battle, and as we both know from experience, the battle will be ugly and prolonged. I just want to get my kids on their way with their project, and I know that I will be unable to do so if struggling with this kid. (BTW. Kid has some serious ODD. Parent never picks up the phone. Administration is at a loss as to what to do with him, as is every other teacher.)

Hall patrol guy tells the kid to put away the phone and grab his stuff. This goes on for quite some time. Kid will not comply. Hall patrol guy starts getting pissed, throws up his hands, and leaves. Great, I think. That helped. After a few more minutes of battling with the kid, I once again find hall patrol guy. "You know, ummmmmm, I still have a problem here? Could you please give me a hand? I do have a whole class of kids to teach?"

Hall patrol guy returns to my classroom and starts with the kid again. The kid has no intention of going anywhere. Hall patrol guy leaves again. Great, I think. But this time, hall patrol guy comes back. With a key! "Take your class to room 432. This child doesn't want to leave? Then you leave." I'm all stunned and crap. I've got a ton of project materials. I'm really not in a position to leave my room. "So you want me to leave the room? And leave the kid here? And march all the students to another room? Seriously?" Hall patrol guy confirms my astonished understanding of the arrangement.

The class is looking at me. The kid is looking at me. And all I want to do is get this class started. "Uh. Okay. Kids, grab your stuff. Everything. Guess were going on a field trip. Line up in the hallway."

The kid sat in my room, alone (but supervised by hall patrol guy), for three periods.

So much for student removal. More like teacher and class removal.

Ugh. Could this school be more screwed up?

Sylvan

2006-01-21T11:40:00.000-05:00

From Stossel's article regarding Sylvan Learning Center:

__________________________________________
Zoned Out of a Good Education
I talked with 18-year-old Dorian Cain in South Carolina, who was still struggling to read a single sentence in a first-grade level book when I met him. Although his public schools had spent nearly $100,000 on him over 12 years, he still couldn't read.

So "20/20" sent Dorian to a private learning center, Sylvan, to see if teachers there could teach Dorian to read when the South Carolina public schools failed to.

Using computers and workbooks, Dorian's reading went up two grade levels -- after just 72 hours of instruction.

His mother, Gena Cain, is thrilled with Dorian's progress but disappointed with his public schools. "With Sylvan, it's a huge improvement. And they're doing what they're supposed to do. They're on point. But I can't say the same for the public schools," she said.
_________________________________________

Hmmm.

Santa came a little late...

2006-01-19T18:09:00.000-05:00

Just when I thought my classes were challenging enough, I get a new student!

Not just any student. An ELL student.

Not having *any* experience in ELL, I'm a bit concerned. The student has been evaluated for services, in Spanish, and he apparently has some significant language processing challenges. Given that I have no Spanish language background, this will be a real test. No doubt he will be the subject of subsequent posts.

But Santa brought me another gift. A 1:1 paraprofessional for the young man. Just what I wanted. That will make it 3 paraprofessionals that I work with in this class alone. 5 altogether. (Yes, I have dreams that one day I will be all alone in a classroom filled with children.)

And to make it all the more special....

English Language Learner Lenny (hereinafter referred to as ELLL) is close relatives with Potty Mouth Girl (PMG). For a young man with language processing issues, he had absolutely no problem blurting this out after I assigned him homework:

"Yo! I wanno no fuc&ing howork! Yo, missa! Wha the fuc& dis sh$t fo, missa?"

Charming.

A Question for the Students

2006-01-19T16:44:00.000-05:00

Now that the EL% exam is behind me, I'm luxuriating in the new found freedom of creating lesson units that may actually spark my students' attention. I sent the kiddos home with a long list of supplies (magazines, newspapers, glue, safety scissors) and began a unit based on advertising. One thing that I've come to discover is that my students are not savvy consumers. They are also not eager writers. So I'm hoping to merge these two concerns and see what comes about.

Today they were asked to write their opinion of the EL% test snafu, and whether the test should be discarded and/or re-administered. I was surprised by their responses.

Of my 19 students, 14 believed that the problem was serious enough that the test should be re- administered. All of the students cited the concern that some students would eat a "1" if they didn't understand the last minute directions.

The remaining students (5) opposed re-administration of the exam. Almost all of them cited that the exam was "too hard" and that it would be unfair to make them sit for it again.

I was pleased with the class discussions about the exam, and their rather mature sensibilities about equity and fairness. In fact, it was the most "mature" class discussion that we have had to date.

It's here!

2006-01-17T17:01:00.000-05:00

Finally!

No more test pr@p! No more test pr@p! No more test pr@p!

Ugh! What a huge consumption of time and effort. I'm elated to be done with it, even though it means that I will have to now focus my attention on the alternate assessment kiddos.

I vowed to myself that I would get to school early this morning to ensure that I had an extra stash of pencils sharpened, mentally map out where I would seat my students, and make a couple of phone calls to students who never show up on time. Unfortunately, the weather conspired against me. It was too dang cold to get out from under the comforter this morning, and I got to school with only a half hour to spare. *sigh*

The plan of action called for both sections of the 7th grade special education classes (that required double time) to be tested in the same room. My room. It shouldn't have been a problem, but then again, I can rarely credit myself with the gift of foresight.

As the classes were combined, I quickly noticed that my dear students were confused as to why they were mingling with one another. Apparently, they believed it was PARTY TIME. A time to greet each other with vulgar salutations, share candy and gum, and hit one another for no apparent reason. I immediately attempted to put an end to the rising madness, but as usual, my students failed to hear me as they have developed a selective hearing loss to the sounds of my voice. *grrrrr*

As I began to yell.... I mean redirect.... them to sit down and shut their pie holes, Potty Mouth Girl was simply too caught up in the joys of socialization and looked me square in the eye and screamed,

"You're pissing me off!"

Coming from Potty Mouth Girl, this was pretty tame. PMG has some serious emotional problems. She is one of my brightest students, but also one of the most troubled. When she is having a "good day," life is sunshine and roses. But on the bad days .... oh. Not wanting to get into a prolonged battle with the young lass minutes before reading the directions, I simply gave her a look. Not just a look ... a menacing, threatening, fear-inspiring stare. She quickly apologized. This apparently caught the students' attention, as they all stopped talking and settled in.

I bring this up for one reason. With PMG, the results could have been much, much different. One of the complexities of dealing with "emotionally disabled" students is that you can never quite rely on any one course of action, nor can you anticipate their reaction. It's often a delicate dance of interactions, sometimes with unintended consequences. With PMG, sometimes she is simply unable to gauge another person's feelings.

I'm just very thankful that today was not a day in which we confronted that problem.

This is weird...

2006-01-16T17:22:00.000-05:00

I just pulled out a stack of papers to grade, only to find this letter of apology.

What on earth is this about?

Stupid in America?

2006-01-16T17:17:00.000-05:00

Well, the buzz will be going on a for a bit. But if you're interested, here's a link to Stossel's article ...

Also...

Sylvan Learning Center can raise a child's reading level by two grade levels in 72 hours? Bleh.

voluntary insanity

2006-01-16T16:59:00.000-05:00

If you have stopped by this blog in the last 72 hours, you may have noticed that I've changed the template at least a dozen times.

All I can say is ..... I HATE EVERY TEMPLATE I'VE TRIED!

I've tried the "official" blogspot templates, designer templates, foreign templates, you name it. Nothing. I'm googled out, and I'm totally tired of playing with code.

Why this has become such an issue for me is a little unclear. No doubt, tomorrow's return to the jail ... ummmm... classroom will put things in perspective.

(To the fine bloggers that I link to, please be assured that I'll be restoring the links once I get over this template obsession.)

Two things have my panties in a twist at the moment...

2006-01-14T16:25:00.000-05:00

1. 20/20's "Stupid in America" report, and

2. the fact that I have not been able to find a blog template that I even remotely like.

A.W.O.L.

2006-01-04T18:52:00.000-05:00

Yikes. I have been away a long time from my blog.

One of the reasons for this, I believe, is due to the overwhelming number of "reflections" I was required to write for grad school this past semester. After I rambled for 2 or 3 pages, I found that I really didn't want to reflect that much more on the blog. I really hope that this semester's classes require just a wee bit less on the reflection business.

Another reason was also that I was entertaining the idea of running away from the D.O.E.. Long story there, but suffice it to say that a number of factors entered into my decision to remain an education laborer for the time being.

Anyway... back to Oz.

G.T.B. has ceased saying, "Shut Up," after just about anything I say. This was accomplished through a strategic series of interventions that included my delaying dismissal, speaking with the physical education teacher, calling his mother, and denying him just about every bribe I use to entice my reluctant pupils. Unfortunately, he seems to have had a Darwinian adaptation to the whole matter, and now drops the f-bomb when asked to do just about anything.

*rolling eyes in frustration*

S.F.H. (Student from Hell) has returned to the sanctuary of my classroom, and although things are still early in the game, his time at the suspension center appears to have had some effect. Apparently, he didn't take to his temporary principal. When he submitted his assignment on similes, he wrote, "The principal at %%% and the principal at *** are like two peas in a pod - they both suck." Apparently he gave this administrator a run for her money as well.

7 months to vacation and counting down each and every day.

shut up

2005-12-09T20:11:00.000-05:00

Why Gansta Thug Boy has started saying "Shut Up" after everything I say is beyond me. He thinks it's funny; I do not. He doesn't say it in a nasty or mean way. But he does say it LOUDLY, which is really getting under my skin. Oh yes, we have had a talk about it. A few, actually. He just breaks out laughing in the middle of the conversation, somewhere around me stating, "You know, I know that you think it's funny, but I'm finding it offensive." And this crack him up, causing him to fall on the floor in a fit of laughter.

*sigh*

Little Guy has likewise started a rather disturbing practice of getting up from his seat, walking to the trash can, and then placing a pencil on his groin and pretending to urinate (with full facial expressions, I might add). At this, I simply yell and threaten to call his mother.

And of all the crappy things I've had to watch since I started this year, the "most crappiest" is having to administer all these practice tests to my students and witness them struggle for 45 minutes to read a single one page passage. Really, it's painful. And I can see the look of frustration come across their faces after working for 2 periods and only answering 8 out of 25 questions.

AND THEN THE BOMB DROPPED

In my mailbox this morning, I received a letter informing me that Student From Hell will be finishing off his suspension and shall be returning to my class 1/3. Oh, man. This kid could piss off the Pope in two seconds. The chances of me making it to June are looking slimmer and slimmer.

snaps and claps

2005-12-02T17:57:00.000-05:00

Snaps and claps? Well, according to the "manual" of my new reading program, snaps and claps are the "signals" I should be giving my students to indicate that I want them to respond. At first I thought it a bit odd, but given how green I am, I decided to give it a go. So as I point to a word on the board, or a word in the book, there I stand clapping and snapping. At first the students thought this was funny. I did, too.

What's not funny is how many times I am prompted in the script to snap and clap. Quite literally, I was prompted to snap/clap approximately 30 times. Mr. B got tired of snapping and clapping. The students' amusement with the snapping and clapping began to wane. My hand began to hurt. My fingers began to go numb, then cramped. So I just started to bang my foot on the floor as a signal. Much easier. Problem solved, or so I thought.

For some reason, I never gave a thought to the kind woman that teaches directly underneath me. So for 5 periods today, I stood and thumped by big ass steel toe boot on the floor innumerable times. Apparently, this was readily audible in said teacher's classroom. Said teacher was understandably not pleased, and sent a student to my room to ask that I cease and desist. I, of course, stopped and then immediately felt a fair amount of guilt. Why, I asked, did she just not call me?

That mystery was soon solved.

Apparently one of my dear students decided that I had called security on him one too many times, so he elected to steal the receiver to the telephone.

How do I know this? The dumb ass left his book bag on his desk during last period, and failed to cinch it closed. And guess what was sticking out of it?

this is why I get nothing accomplished

2005-12-01T18:48:00.000-05:00

First Period:

"Today guys, I want to introduce you to our new reading program. Now, it's going to take a little time to get accustomed to it, so just be sure to pay VERY CLOSE ATTENTION to my directions. Okay? Devon? Devon? Stop making animal noises. Stop. Huh? What's that, Candice? No, no bathroom passes. Why? Well, can you just hold it for 10 minutes and then I'll .... Devon! Get off of the desk! No! No walking on desks during instruction. Okay? Or after instruction. What the ...? No Darrel, I don't want your homework just yet, just hold ... huh? Oh nice, Jenelle! That's what happens when you try to sneak a sip of your grape soda. No, I don't have any wet wipes left. What? Your mom is gonna be mad? Madder than me? I don't think so, why don't you (15th P.A. announcement of the day drowns out my suggestion) .... okay? What did I say? Huh? "

e.d.

2005-11-29T21:33:00.000-05:00

NOT what I wanted to hear today:

"Mr. B, you've got to understand. The child is emotionally disturbed."

So apparently calling me a "p*ssy motherf*cker" is acceptable and will NOT be subject to any disciplinary action.

Honestly.... if I think too much about how utterly flawed the special education system is in NYC, my brain will simply leak out of me ears.

test pr*p

2005-11-27T09:33:00.000-05:00

Although I wish I had been able to totally break myself away from lesson planning during the course of the break, I found myself rather perplexed as to how to approach the formal launch of my EL@ test pr*p unit.

I'm, uh, kind of at a loss as to how to structure the lessons.

Four of my students are alternate assessm@nt, and will not be taking the actual exam. What they will be doing is some horrifically time intensive task (for me), over a course of three trials, which is meant to gauge their oral or written skills. Their trials must be independently verified by another teacher or administrator, with at least two types of evidence submitted (such as written work and audio tapes). Is this sounding complex? Is this sounding like a pain in Mr. B's rear end?

One of the suggested tasks for my alternate assessm@nt students is demonstrating that they can maintain a conversation about a specific topic. Sounds easy. Uh, no. I ran a mini-trial last Friday with one of my students, and this is basically how it sounded on the audio recording:

Me: What did you think of our trip to the Historic Soci*ty yesterday?

Student: (silence)

Me: The Historic Soci*ty! We just went there! Did you find it interesting?

Student: What? Yeah.

Me: What did you think was interesting?

Student: (staring out window, starts spinning globe)

Me: Tom, enough with the globe, okay? Were just going to talk a little bit, okay? You can do that, right? See this tape recorder? I'm recording our conversation, so I need you to pay attention, okay? Uh, is this working? Oh man, this isn't working? Oh, okay, it is working. What were we talking about?

Student: The globe.

Me: You want to talk about the globe?

Student: Yeah.

Me: What interests you about the globe?

Student: Huh? (starts spinning globe)

Me: Okay, Tom! Enough with the globe! Don't make me Super Glue your hands to the desk, okay?

Student: Glue what?

Me: Your hands. Not that I would ever do that, I'm just saying that you gotta work with me here, okay? What do you like about the globe?

Student: I gotta go to the bathroom.

Me: Gotcha.

*end of recording*

So I'm off to find another task for Tom. Holding a conversation is not his best skill.