The Principal's Office

My permanent record is pretty much golden.  Not one trip to the principal's office.  Never.  Not ever.  Not even after I toilet papered the principal's house with my best friend and then ran over his water mainline when he blocked us in the driveway.  I probably would have been expelled, but I didn't get caught.  No one made a peep even after I wrote a personal narrative about my little adventure for Junior year English.  

I had another close call in first grade.  My mother loves to retell this story.  

Michelle came home from school and said she got her name on the board for helping Tony take his boots off.  So, I went up to that school and I asked the teacher what she had done that was just so terrible.  And the teacher said ever so sweetly, "But you see, Tony didn't WANT his boots off!"

My mom just cracks up at that part.  I'm not sure if it's because I was so unhelpfully helpful or because at the tender age of seven, I was already manhandling the would-be-men in my class.  Either way, I missed my ticket to the principal's office due to my teacher's good nature.  In the class of another, I might not have fared so well.

It's a good thing that those permanent record things, aren't that permanent or my adult self would be in a heap of trouble for marring that pristine document.  Today, I got called into the principal's office.  It wasn't pretty.  It certainly wasn't my first time since I started getting called into the principal's office, which was sometime back in 2009(-ish).  (Holla-attcha, Mrs. Trout, and, by the way, FUCK YOU!!!)  

On the bright side, my current principal is NOTHING like Mrs. Trout.  That is because my current principal is a good and decent and rational person with a good heart that cares about children AND her teachers AND staff.  She is the opposite of a two-faced cold-hearted amoral self-serving jackass with whom I am familiar.  My current principal is practically an angel by comparison.  

Angel or not,  new principal knows how to smack down.  She is succinct, to the point, and cuts to the chase.  She mixes in a little Encyclopedia Brown style questioning/concern.... How are you doing?  What's going on with you?  (You know, she's making sure that nobody in family has died and that I'm not recently diagnosed with something awful.  I can respect that... nice move.)  Then, boom, so I notice that you've come to school late the past two mornings. (I've gotten there at 7:18 and 7:19.  The bell rings at 7:20 and that's when we pick up the kids.  We are supposed to be at school by 7:10.)  You know, Michelle, it's very important that you are here on time.  

Blah, blah, blah... some other stuff.....  I won't bore you to death with it all.  Suffice to say, I better not show up late one more day and I better have the kids all set and ready to stick with our plans.  No more cleaning out desks during intervention time.  (I did have to tell her that we were cleaning out desks, because last semester one of the kids had a roach crawl out of their desk and I thought it was necessary to clean them all out, even if it took a little extra time.)  

The good news is that my principal was well within her bounds of reasonableness to talk with me about being late and even to check on whether I was going to be doing intervention.  I think it gave me a moment to let her know that I was recalibrating for the year at the start of the new semester and to hear what was important to her... i.e. timeliness in general and working in small groups for interventions.  This was a good thing for me to focus on for my future.  

As they say, every cloud has a silver lining.  If I have learned anything, that is the God's honest truth.  If you can't see the good out of the bad, then you aren't looking hard enough, and you aren't getting the message.  For all of the dislike that I have for Mrs. Trout (Fuck you, again, you fired up my engines all over again with your latest bullshit stunt - sorry - I have Tourrette's, when I think about that woman sometimes and I just start typing crazy shit) um, back to... for all of the dislike that I have for Mrs. Trout, I credit a lot of my current happiness to her.  

I learned a lot from her. I learned a lot about curriculum and rigor.  I learned about what a good teacher that I am and that I can be better and better all of the time.  I learned that I can learn so much from my peers and specialists. I learned that it is important to always to talk about your strengths and to not be defensive about your weaknesses.  I learned that when it comes to your boss just apologize, agree, change it, and move on.  I learned that there are some people that lie.  I learned that there are some people that cheat.  I learned that there are some people that manipulate and bully.  I learned that I am not one of those people.  Above all, I learned that if you do the right thing, good things will happen for you.  Always.  Every time.  Without fail.  I learned that integrity is the permanent record that only you can see and its the only one that matters.

Dressing the Part...

Tomorrow is Halloween.  One of the greatest day's of the school year.  It is also a day that has been fucked up by religious zealots that don't know how to have a good time.  Oh my gosh, did I just say that? I hope I didn't offend anyone.  Seriously, I hope I didn't, because if there are any religious zealots reading my blog I'm fucked.  Well, they're probably already offended by my excessive use of the word fuck and me being a teacher and all so I'm probably good.

We aren't allowed to freaking say the word "God," but we're expected to instill moral character.  And the zealots think that the first thing the teachers are gonna do on Halloween is dress their kid up like devils and sign them all up for our coven, since we're all practicing Wicca on the side.

I just wanna play dress up and eat candy for no good a reason.  I just want the kids to have fun at school.  I like it when they want to be here.  It makes it better for all of us.  The kids learn more when their play is full and rich and deeply rooted in imagination.   And that is what Halloween is all about, not Satanic ritual.  Well, it's about creative play and large scale commercialization of a national holiday.  Come on people!  Get behind the freakin' economy... buy a costume, eat some candy, and get this recession moving!

Anyhow, principals have found a whole route around the zealots.  They are a pretty imaginative lot themselves.  They call it "The Great Day of Reading" or something similar.  The teachers are allowed to dress up as "storybook characters" and then they read the story that their character is related to to their class.  Some schools make the whole day into a day of reading and have all of the teachers rotate around to different classes and some schools keep it more low key.

My current school is of the low key variety.  No scary costumes allowed for teachers and the kids can only wear cheerful style Halloween shirts with jeans.  I've decided that I am going to be Viola Swamp, the meanest substitute in the whole world!  She is the antagonist in "Miss Nelson is Missing."  I can't wait!!!

It calls to mind a few years ago at Bowie, when Mrs. Trout had a mandatory costume day for all of the teachers.  It was on Halloween.  She sent out an email that said that you had to come to school in costume.  One of the teachers was a religious zealot named Mr. Crouton.  Mr. Crouton had been a 5th grade teacher with me the year before and was new to the profession.  He had a lot of enthusiasm, but he was terrible.  The kids got him down and he kind of gave up.

Not that I blame him.  He was used to a lot of success in his previous occupation and Mrs. Trout was not one for slow learners.  She gave him a lot of credit the prior year that he didn't deserve and it came back to bite him in the ass, when there were more eyes on him and mounting pressure to deliver results that he couldn't possibly produce.  So when he explained to Mrs. Trout that he didn't dress up for Halloween for religious reasons and she retorted that he better get a costume or get a new job in front of other staff members, Mr. Crouton was primed to call the teacher's Union.

And that is just what he did.  He spent the better part of the Great Day of Reading in a Great Day of Covering His Ass.  My hat is off to him, because that Mrs. Trout would have handed his ass to him on a platter if she could have and instead he served her up a shit sandwich.  Mr. Crouton had his duties slowly taken from him piece by piece.  Throughout the year, specialist came to his class to take over and teach his class.  He got paid to virtually do nothing.  Eventually, he got another job in another district for the next year.  I don't know how he faired over there.

Mrs. Trout has the Great Day of Reading a few days before Halloween now.  It avoids a bunch of pitfalls.  I guess, Halloween is a scary day at school after all.

Arson...It's Not Just for Grown-ups Anymore

A few years back, I worked at Bowie Elementary (also an alias) in a Houston-area ISD. Bowie was whack. This was primarily because the administration at Bowie hated dealing with the deranged behavior of the students, so instead of the students realizing that they were at school where there were high expectations for behavior and learning they thought that they were in a precursor to prison day camp. All of us teachers were really doubling as prison guards and reading, writing, math, and science were a cute little sideshow until they felt like wrecking some havoc.

I made some great friends, while I worked at Bowie. In fact, it was a great friend that got me the job there in the first place. We still keep in touch and I get to hear about the effed up shit that still goes on there. Not that I am happy about it. It breaks my heart to hear about how these excellent teachers get put through the ringer every fucking day, because the principal doesn't have the guts to lay down the law. You can have your class on lock down, but when your kids act like these kids act and nobody gets your back, you are FUCKED! And that's a fact. Here's an example of what I'm talking about... My best friend calls me yesterday.

I had the best day today.

Really. Why?

Brendan, tried to burn down the school.

What?

Yeah. You heard me. Brendan. Tried. To. Burn. Down. The. School.

So.... what did they do? (I'm referring to the admin, because this is what matters in this situation. I'm always curious how Mrs. Trout handles the behavior issues at Bowie.)

Oh, they let him sit in the office for an hour, cause they had to read "Green Eggs and Ham" for a Great Day of Reading first. Then he was sent to Exile (teacher talk for the extended suspension campus) He's gone!

They let him sit for an hour? He tried to burn down the school. And they didn't attend to him for an hour?

Yeah. I know, 'cause they couldn't read any other time of day.

This is what pisses me off. A child brought a lighter to school and held it to the bathroom wall in front of even younger students. He scared them so badly that they started to cry and reported him to their teachers. He said, "I'm gonna burn the school down and I'm gonna kill Mrs. Wall."

To a kid, an hour seems like forever. And sitting in the office is a consequence of no consequence. And as all that time ticks by, he is thinking that everything is probably okay for him or he's plotting how he's going to try to burn the school down even better next time. As an administrator, you should know that if you don't handle issues like potential arson IMMEDIATELY then you are sending the message that it was NO BIG DEAL!

Even if the kid is sent to Exile, you didn't do a good enough job of sending the message that attempting to burn down the school is a a REALLY BAD CHOICE WITH MAJOR CONSEQUENCES! That when you try to burn down the school, it puts people in so much danger that even the principal stops the very important thing that she is doing to deal with you. This is why Bowie Elementary School and other schools like it suck. A principal without principles leads everyone astray.

Fifth Grade Flashback!

Let's talk about 5th grade!  Not my favorite year of teaching.  I never got to give it another go around, but I'm okay with that.  If I could sum it up in one word, it would be clusterfuck.  That's what makes the 5th grade flashback so much fun!  I can visit it in my mind, but I don't have to live it.

Like the day Elisa snipped off a chunk of my hair in the back and called me a bitch for writing her up.  Then she refused to leave the school and the Assistant Principal had to call the cops to remove her from campus, since we couldn't physically remove her ourselves and her mom was unreachable.  Nevermind that she committed a crime when she cut my hair off.  It's called assault.

The principal assigned her to a day of in-school suspension.  That's typically what students got for coming out of uniform.  This is one of the many reasons why I couldn't stand my administrator from that school.  No consequences of consequence.  I'm all for compassion, but I want the consequences.    

I walked Elisa out of the building myself that day.  I hugged her at the curb and let her cry.  I don't remember if she said she was sorry.  It was a rocky road for me and Elisa from there on out.  I felt sorry for her and I did my best to hold her responsible.  At the end of the school year, she told me that I was the third best teacher that she ever had.  Not too shabby.  Considering.