Mr. Principal. Please, for the love of god, give us a break.
No, I'm serious. Here's the thing. We're all doing the best we can. And while I know that you do know this in theory, it certainly doesn't feel like it these days. Your list of demands and "requests" (aka demands coated in a frosting of "please," "thank you," "would you mind...," and "why don't you try...") needs to stop growing, or we are going to lost it.
Yes, I am preparing for the ISAT tests. I am sucking the life out of my students and myself with every test prep packet, but I am following your directions. I'm doing what you ask. And while it's true that there will be no surprises on test day for my kids, there will also likely be no energy left. And it still won't go back in time and force my kids' parents to read to them when they were little. It still won't help my undiagnosed ADD kids with uncooperative parents keep their brains on topic through a 2 hour test. It still won't help my emotionally distressed students with difficult home lives focus on something so meaningless. But I promise, I'm doing my best.
Yes, I will have my kids ready for conferences. It didn't help that you and others in the building decided that conferences day would be a great day to hold a school-wide reading event that involved every teacher preparing published pieces of their students' writing. It wasn't fun staying late at school to laminate book covers and bind books. And while the finished products are amazing, it was a lot of stress during a trying time. Don't worry, I will still make time to rehearse with the students so they are ready to "lead" conferences as you've requested. Don't worry, I will gather my "data" and be prepared to share it. Don't worry. It will all get done. But know that I will need to take class time to get the students ready for conferences. And that means less time for test prep. And literacy. And writing. And everything else you'd like me to squeeze in the day.
Yes, I will have my report cards ready to go in a few weeks. I know it's not you that chooses to make report cards due right before testing and right after conferences. I understand that sometimes you are as powerless as I am. But please listen when I say that I already know comments have to be specific and detailed; there is no need to remind us of that these coming weeks.
Yes, I am filling out RTI. And even though I am wondering why the special services teachers are not helping me more with this, or why I am always the one setting up the meetings on these kids and not the specialists that see them daily for the interventions these meetings evaluate, but I smile and bite my lip and do it anyways because I care about the kids too much to wait for someone else to pick up the ball. Oh and also, THANK YOU for asking me if I'm planning on meeting to finish the RTI form for my student who MOVED to a different school in district. Sure. Why not. I'll take time to continue meeting about him even though he is no longer my student. Add it to the list.
Oh, and Mr. Principal, THANK YOU for adding to all of the stress that you've already created by deciding to email the non-tenured teachers today to just let us know that you will be popping in for an unannounced observation in the next few weeks. Of course, I would be happy to submit detailed lesson plans in every subject to you so you are able to choose a time to observe...Of course, I will be flexible and make sure every subject is stellar so that, since you have decided not to tell us the subject you are observing in advance, I feel confident in every area "just in case." And after the observation, I will be happy to smile and nod as we discuss the 100 other "suggestions" of things I could be making time for in my day. When in reality, we barely have time to teach period with all of the other hoops we are all jumping through.
Mr. Principal, I know you support me. I know you care about me. But please, please, please give us all a break. Acknowledge that we are doing our best. And please don't ask us for anything else right now. Have mercy.
Sincerely,
Miss Teacher
Showing posts with label RTI. Show all posts
Showing posts with label RTI. Show all posts
January 30, 2011
January 3, 2011
Why I cried driving home from school:
I have been meaning to write about this for the past two weeks, but have had a difficult time putting everything I'm thinking and feeling into words...While I'm still not sure I'll be able to find the right words, I figure I better at least give it a try. This post is a little long, but please indulge me--I have a lot to say...
There are many MANY challenging students in every grade at my school. As Mrs. Mentor Teacher says, "it's no picnic" in any of our rooms. This year I have a wonderful class, but since August I have been writing about one student who is particularly challenging, my student who is both prone to emotional outbursts (like calling me racist with no context whatsoever), who occasionally storms out of the room/runs away, and also cannot read (at all). He has been my biggest challenge since August, and taken up SO much of my time, working with him 1 on 1 in the classroom, at lunch, and after school, not to mention the lengthy RTI meetings...
Slightly less challenging, but also difficult at times was another student with whom I got off to a rough start, but later decided he could trust me, after which our relationship significantly improved. I'm talking about the student who decided immediately that he didn't like me because he happened to be the only African American student at his table, who liked to lay pouting on the floor from time to time, and, oh yeah, who brought a bb gun to school. We have had our fair share of moments as well...
All that being said, I grew to LOVE these two students over the past few months. When I realized how much baggage they were carrying and how challenging they had the potential to be, I made it my absolute priority to earn their trust and build a strong relationship with them right off the bat. As the principal with whom I student taught said, above all, teachers need to get their students to like them, because if a student likes you, he'll do ANYTHING for you. I quickly realized how true that was. And as I could see I was beginning to capture their hearts, they were absolutely capturing mine.
Coming back from winter break was like entering a completely different classroom. You see, both of these boys moved over break. In my building, students move constantly. When you think about low-performing schools, not everyone realizes how difficult it is to separate income and ability. Low-income schools by nature tend to have transient populations--families move suddenly as jobs appear and disappear, leases run out, families are forced to move in with other familiy members...the list goes on. This means kids are pulled out of school and plopped somewhere new. Often they miss weeks of school in between. What does this mean? They fall further and further behind, not to mention the added difficulty of starting an intervention program.
I'm used to kids moving. But when I found out that slightly-less-difficult student was moving, it was like a punch in the stomach. What? You're kidding, I told Mr. Principal when he passed on the news. After all our hard work building a relationship, after all the progress we'd made, he was MOVING???
Just as I began to make my peace with that, not three days later when most-challenging-student didn't show up for school on the last day before winter break, the second bomb dropped. After a little detective work and a few calls to Mom, we found out that the family had already moved out of their house, and moved in with family in a neighboring suburb. They are currently not enrolled in any school, and administration is still trying to get in touch with them to figure out whcih school they should be enrolling at.
I literally cried Friday (before break) when I left school, digesting this news. This student has brought me to tears before, and not in the "I hate him so much I could quit" way. More in the, "Your life is so sad and your heart is so good and there is so little I can do to help you" type of way. I came to love this student this year, and grew infinitely as a professional because of him. He is so needy, and has been through so much. Dad's not around, mom has a questionable job that involves working nights, and he's been at school after school after school. He had finally begun making a little growth, and we finally had an RTI program in place with plans to evaluate for an IEP after just a few more weeks of data were collected. We had truly bonded.
And then he moved. What's going to happen to him? I keep wondering. Actually, I'm almost certain I know what's going to happen to him...and that's the scary part. No matter how hard the teachers at his new school will work, he will likely move again, and again. He will fall even further behind, and eventually become so frustrated that he can neither read nor add that he will drop out of school. He will likely join a gang, and then...who knows. It is literally tearing me to pieces. I love this child. I did everything I could for him while he was in my room, and it was nowhere near enough, and nowhere near what he needed. And now he's gone, and I can't do anymore.
And while my classroom was more orderly and quiet today, while no one talked back or needed my constant undivided attention, it felt...empty. The rational part of me says that this will mean I can spend so much more time with my other low learners who got lost in the shuffle before. And that's true. But...somehow that just doesn't make me feel better.
There are many MANY challenging students in every grade at my school. As Mrs. Mentor Teacher says, "it's no picnic" in any of our rooms. This year I have a wonderful class, but since August I have been writing about one student who is particularly challenging, my student who is both prone to emotional outbursts (like calling me racist with no context whatsoever), who occasionally storms out of the room/runs away, and also cannot read (at all). He has been my biggest challenge since August, and taken up SO much of my time, working with him 1 on 1 in the classroom, at lunch, and after school, not to mention the lengthy RTI meetings...
Slightly less challenging, but also difficult at times was another student with whom I got off to a rough start, but later decided he could trust me, after which our relationship significantly improved. I'm talking about the student who decided immediately that he didn't like me because he happened to be the only African American student at his table, who liked to lay pouting on the floor from time to time, and, oh yeah, who brought a bb gun to school. We have had our fair share of moments as well...
All that being said, I grew to LOVE these two students over the past few months. When I realized how much baggage they were carrying and how challenging they had the potential to be, I made it my absolute priority to earn their trust and build a strong relationship with them right off the bat. As the principal with whom I student taught said, above all, teachers need to get their students to like them, because if a student likes you, he'll do ANYTHING for you. I quickly realized how true that was. And as I could see I was beginning to capture their hearts, they were absolutely capturing mine.
Coming back from winter break was like entering a completely different classroom. You see, both of these boys moved over break. In my building, students move constantly. When you think about low-performing schools, not everyone realizes how difficult it is to separate income and ability. Low-income schools by nature tend to have transient populations--families move suddenly as jobs appear and disappear, leases run out, families are forced to move in with other familiy members...the list goes on. This means kids are pulled out of school and plopped somewhere new. Often they miss weeks of school in between. What does this mean? They fall further and further behind, not to mention the added difficulty of starting an intervention program.
I'm used to kids moving. But when I found out that slightly-less-difficult student was moving, it was like a punch in the stomach. What? You're kidding, I told Mr. Principal when he passed on the news. After all our hard work building a relationship, after all the progress we'd made, he was MOVING???
Just as I began to make my peace with that, not three days later when most-challenging-student didn't show up for school on the last day before winter break, the second bomb dropped. After a little detective work and a few calls to Mom, we found out that the family had already moved out of their house, and moved in with family in a neighboring suburb. They are currently not enrolled in any school, and administration is still trying to get in touch with them to figure out whcih school they should be enrolling at.
I literally cried Friday (before break) when I left school, digesting this news. This student has brought me to tears before, and not in the "I hate him so much I could quit" way. More in the, "Your life is so sad and your heart is so good and there is so little I can do to help you" type of way. I came to love this student this year, and grew infinitely as a professional because of him. He is so needy, and has been through so much. Dad's not around, mom has a questionable job that involves working nights, and he's been at school after school after school. He had finally begun making a little growth, and we finally had an RTI program in place with plans to evaluate for an IEP after just a few more weeks of data were collected. We had truly bonded.
And then he moved. What's going to happen to him? I keep wondering. Actually, I'm almost certain I know what's going to happen to him...and that's the scary part. No matter how hard the teachers at his new school will work, he will likely move again, and again. He will fall even further behind, and eventually become so frustrated that he can neither read nor add that he will drop out of school. He will likely join a gang, and then...who knows. It is literally tearing me to pieces. I love this child. I did everything I could for him while he was in my room, and it was nowhere near enough, and nowhere near what he needed. And now he's gone, and I can't do anymore.
And while my classroom was more orderly and quiet today, while no one talked back or needed my constant undivided attention, it felt...empty. The rational part of me says that this will mean I can spend so much more time with my other low learners who got lost in the shuffle before. And that's true. But...somehow that just doesn't make me feel better.
December 1, 2010
Oh hi stress...
I am a little frazzled today...between a hectic day, a bit less patience than usual on my side, a rushed lunch, an assembly at the end of the day that got us back to the room just minutes before the afternoon bell (rushing to get hw passed out, backpacks packed, etc...), staff development after school, and immediately rushing to my autism therapy job, I haven't had a moment to breathe.
Luckily, my after school kiddo's mom had a latte waiting for me when I came over. I swear it saved my life.
Here's what has me stressed out today:
1. Math. My current chapter in the math series is on fractions, but I really dislike the way it is laid out. We do Everyday Mathematics and while there are many positive things about the series, it is WAY too abstract most of the time for my group. I tend to favor simple concepts taught in very basic ways, with real-life connections peppered in when appropriate. Everyday Math attempts to put in WAY too many real-life connections, and tends to confuse the kids more often than not. My team has been talking about meeting to go through the chapter and decide what to teach and what to toss, but the meeting keeps getting postponed because of other pressing issues. Meanwhile, I'm starting the chapter and feeling like I'm treading water. Actually, picture me treading water while at the same time trying to hold the hands of the 20 kids in my math class and keep them afloat too. Needless to say, if someone doesn't throw me a life preserver/jacket/whole freakin raft soon, someone's going down...
2. RTI. I have two kiddos who I am SO concerned about, and I feel like NOTHING is happening with them. Due to a lack of communication, a change in policies regarding RTI, and me just not knowing what I'm supposed to be doing, I feel like these kids are drowning with no help in sight. I get really emotional when it comes to things like this...I love my kids, and it kills me when I just don't know what to do next to help them. Also, it makes me livid when I feel like they are not getting the services they are entitled to because of logistics. I've recontacted the special services teacher and will hopefully be able to set up a meeting within the next couple days to start filling out the brand NEW RTI paperwork...I guess the form I filled out back in AUGUST (that is collecting dust in some system somewhere) wasn't gonna cut it?? There are many things that frustrate me about the education system in America, but nothing makes me as frustrated/upset/outraged/emotional as when I see kids drowning who NEED and DESERVE help, but because of the system it isn't coming to them...watch out, this is one teacher who is ready to jump through some serious hoops...
3. At staff development today, Mister Principal announced that he is being moved to a new building next year. I have to say, I was pretty startled by this news and am really upset. Let me explain:
When I interviewed for my job in April 2009, I bombed both the lesson I was asked to teach and the interview itself. (I guess bombed is a relative term...I am a perfectionist, so it probably wasn't the WORST EVER, but in this competative market, any slip in an interview can be fatal...) I left thinking there was no chance in hell I would be getting that job, especially since in the last week I had been passed up for 2 that had gone flawlessly. Well, I did get the job as you know. Both my teammates who had been at the interview and my principal had seen something in me that they liked, and believed enough in me to hire me in spite of the less than stellar showing at the interview. He actually told me after that he hired me because of the way I talked about loving students, forming relationships, and appreciating diversity--all things that are at the heart of who I am as a teacher. I know that he hired me for me, because he believed in the same things I do in the classroom.
Fast forward--last year was ROUGH. Seriously. Even though things were really tough for me, and I had a tough group of trouble makers, both the principal and the assistant principal really supported me through it all. Now by no means is my principal perfect, and there are things that drive me crazy as I'm sure there are in every school for every teacher. But through it all, I really feel like he cares about me, like he has my back, and like he understands and appreciates both how hard I work and how far I've come. And now, I'll have to get used to someone new? I know this is completely normal and that administration changes happen all the time. But...it's tough as a non-tenured teacher to know that your job is not secure and that this administrator who trusted you enough to take a leap of faith and offer you a job fresh out of college, and THEN to offer it back to you again is not going to be there anymore. I just...idk. I'm not sure what to think, and on top of everything else that was stressing me out today, wondering about my job security was just the cherry on top.
Oh that, and we started pulling out the ISAT review books--hello Coach, Buckle Down, Ladders to Succes, Workouts, and all of the other nonsense practice we get to start shoving down these poor kids' throats...Kill me. Now, please.
I'm sure tomorrow will be calmer...but my alarm will definitely be set for 5am tomorrow. I refuse to have another frantic day!
Luckily, my after school kiddo's mom had a latte waiting for me when I came over. I swear it saved my life.
Here's what has me stressed out today:
1. Math. My current chapter in the math series is on fractions, but I really dislike the way it is laid out. We do Everyday Mathematics and while there are many positive things about the series, it is WAY too abstract most of the time for my group. I tend to favor simple concepts taught in very basic ways, with real-life connections peppered in when appropriate. Everyday Math attempts to put in WAY too many real-life connections, and tends to confuse the kids more often than not. My team has been talking about meeting to go through the chapter and decide what to teach and what to toss, but the meeting keeps getting postponed because of other pressing issues. Meanwhile, I'm starting the chapter and feeling like I'm treading water. Actually, picture me treading water while at the same time trying to hold the hands of the 20 kids in my math class and keep them afloat too. Needless to say, if someone doesn't throw me a life preserver/jacket/whole freakin raft soon, someone's going down...
2. RTI. I have two kiddos who I am SO concerned about, and I feel like NOTHING is happening with them. Due to a lack of communication, a change in policies regarding RTI, and me just not knowing what I'm supposed to be doing, I feel like these kids are drowning with no help in sight. I get really emotional when it comes to things like this...I love my kids, and it kills me when I just don't know what to do next to help them. Also, it makes me livid when I feel like they are not getting the services they are entitled to because of logistics. I've recontacted the special services teacher and will hopefully be able to set up a meeting within the next couple days to start filling out the brand NEW RTI paperwork...I guess the form I filled out back in AUGUST (that is collecting dust in some system somewhere) wasn't gonna cut it?? There are many things that frustrate me about the education system in America, but nothing makes me as frustrated/upset/outraged/emotional as when I see kids drowning who NEED and DESERVE help, but because of the system it isn't coming to them...watch out, this is one teacher who is ready to jump through some serious hoops...
3. At staff development today, Mister Principal announced that he is being moved to a new building next year. I have to say, I was pretty startled by this news and am really upset. Let me explain:
When I interviewed for my job in April 2009, I bombed both the lesson I was asked to teach and the interview itself. (I guess bombed is a relative term...I am a perfectionist, so it probably wasn't the WORST EVER, but in this competative market, any slip in an interview can be fatal...) I left thinking there was no chance in hell I would be getting that job, especially since in the last week I had been passed up for 2 that had gone flawlessly. Well, I did get the job as you know. Both my teammates who had been at the interview and my principal had seen something in me that they liked, and believed enough in me to hire me in spite of the less than stellar showing at the interview. He actually told me after that he hired me because of the way I talked about loving students, forming relationships, and appreciating diversity--all things that are at the heart of who I am as a teacher. I know that he hired me for me, because he believed in the same things I do in the classroom.
Fast forward--last year was ROUGH. Seriously. Even though things were really tough for me, and I had a tough group of trouble makers, both the principal and the assistant principal really supported me through it all. Now by no means is my principal perfect, and there are things that drive me crazy as I'm sure there are in every school for every teacher. But through it all, I really feel like he cares about me, like he has my back, and like he understands and appreciates both how hard I work and how far I've come. And now, I'll have to get used to someone new? I know this is completely normal and that administration changes happen all the time. But...it's tough as a non-tenured teacher to know that your job is not secure and that this administrator who trusted you enough to take a leap of faith and offer you a job fresh out of college, and THEN to offer it back to you again is not going to be there anymore. I just...idk. I'm not sure what to think, and on top of everything else that was stressing me out today, wondering about my job security was just the cherry on top.
Oh that, and we started pulling out the ISAT review books--hello Coach, Buckle Down, Ladders to Succes, Workouts, and all of the other nonsense practice we get to start shoving down these poor kids' throats...Kill me. Now, please.
I'm sure tomorrow will be calmer...but my alarm will definitely be set for 5am tomorrow. I refuse to have another frantic day!
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