The Ideal School

Wading through the newspaper one night, I came across a back article on The Ideal School, an integrated school started by two moms of children with Downs Syndrome in NYC. They built their enterprise on the proposition that class size mattered and that 25% of their students would have some sort of disability.

Their class size: 16. Ah, intimacy. A chance to be heard and responded to. Differentiated Instruction? Well, of course. The key to anything done well in education is about getting to know your students WELL! If I have the time to hear what's going on inside my kids' heads and to witness the ins and outs of their writing, listening, reading and speaking, I'm sure to hit a home run every darn year.

But, Spot? The doggies out there, just don't want to share their money with the schools and the kids inside them. It's a tough thing to think about. But every time money and education come up in a discussion, money will win every time! Sorry Spot, until they care...deeply, all of our schools are in jeopardy! We need more teachers and more classrooms filled with less students. Think about the impact we could make on those city classrooms if we could take them from 30+ students to just 16?

I just got a new and wonderful student today. She became doggie #24, and she was my priority. But it's going to be a while before I'm able to get to know her really well...and that is just a simple division problem, Spot. There's one of me, and 24 of you...and only a little under 7 hours in a day. Can you do the math and get back to me? I'll be looking forward to it!

The Day the Teacher Ate the Intern

Well, I didn't mean to, honest, Spot! He was just a little bit wet behind the ears, I get that. You know, it's that pardon-the-expression-peach fuzz look that kinda does it to a girl. Here we are, early September, and we're just getting that pack of poochies under control. When...

In comes the intern. Well, it was a very under-confident walk, and that made me nervous. I like the large and in-charge kind of look. Deer-in-the-headlights is what you get sometimes. That's okay. I get it. I was once there. So I went off to my meeting and left Mr. Intern in charge.

When I got back, everything but bottle-launching was going on! I may have lost it, but only a little. After all, you guys knew what you were supposed to do. But what happened next, really put me over the top. "She's a perky one," he said laughing and pointing to a girl in the back of the room. "How do you control her?" Ummmm. Where do I begin? "I look her in the eye, tell her to get back to work, and usually that's that. Period." He looked at me and smiles.

He kinda hung around, so I said, "Bye!" It was a nice voice, really. I turned back to the troops and said, "Okay, pencils down, eyes on me." Anybody who knows me knows I'm not a mean teacher, Spot, right? But, boy am I direct. We have business to do. This is not touchy-feely hour...we need outcomes and inspiration here! After a while, everyone settled back in and brains were back to their normal buzz. I love that buzz. There was talking and chatting, but it was all very appropriate and all very connected to our writing work.

But! Forty-five minutes later, Mr. Intern (aka Mr. Glutton) returned again. "I wanna know what you meant before," he said. This time, I looked him straight in the eye, "You have to say it, mean it, and own it! There's no tip-toeing around here! Today? They became the Alphas...and you, well...you just got a little chewed up, that's all." I patted him on the back, and told him to just keep coming. And later, when everyone was long gone and I turned out the lights, I walked through that doorway and realized something.

It is really in the comings and goings that we get better at teaching, Spot. Looking back and having the courage to return to the scene of the crime, like Mr. Intern did, is the true name of the game. It's the what's up of teaching...what went wrong and how to fix it that really makes the job so very, very satisfying in the end.

Roll of Doggie, Hear My Voice

Governor Patterson says, "I didn't sign up for this." Well, excuse moi? Did anybody? I hate when leadership goes sour like that.

For me, everything relates back to the classroom. There are places where democracy reigns, and then there are places where there's a bottom line...well, most of the time. Seems everyone's got an opinion on everything these days.

In the classroom recently, the poochies have had a bit of a complaint regarding how they're being herded from table to table in the cafeteria. Petitions were being circulated, and the pups were downright 'fired-up!' They even wanted me to sign the petition. Wait. Halt! I told them if they had an opinion on a subject or cared to challenge a rule or initiative, they needed to follow proper procedure. And man, they were on that procedure, voicing their concerns to their student council rep until that poor doggie came to me. He had that Governor Patterson look on his face and was all ready with the I-didn't-sign-up-for-this thingy. I looked him straight in the eye and shook his hand, "Comes with the turf," I said.

Now, I'll be responsible to the astro-turf, the greater powers of these doggies on the outside world, their parents. Because even when we think the buck stops elsewhere, in the classroom, it only comes back to one place. They say it runs downhill too. I didn't sign up for that, I signed up for the academic part--but as with everything in life, if you don't quiet the voices in front of you, they'll wake you up in the middle of the night. So, Gov...just deal with it, there's no whining and no way out here for anyone!

Listen Up!

Okay, Spot, here we go again. Remember Junie...you know, from last year? Charmed me all the way. She'd come in all 'What's happenin', Mrs. Lynch,' telling me all about her trips to church and stuff over the weekend. And now? I've got her male replacement! Her voice was going in my head for 183 days 24/7 last year.

Now...there's Jeeves...well, something like that. Comes in all ready to run to put that nose of his in his book, fixated to the point of tears on his snack every day (the snack he can never, ever seem to find). In the middle of class today, he has no homework for the second time this week.

Do I push it and face the melt down, Spot...or do I back-off and expect the same all year? Well, you know what I did...I pushed it, of course. And the meltdown? Well, I focused on what the Wellness Committee told me to do...I took a long, deep cleansing breath. And walked away. I went on with the lesson...and that stinker, Jeeves? He took out his pencil and proceeded to try to sneak a completion of that assignment in whilst I taught. He thought the homework alert would NOT go home. WRONG! There's no beating the homework police. EVER.

Red Alert! Teacher on Overload!

Oh, Spot! You have no idea what awaits you when you return to the classroom on Wednesday! I have one hundred eighty days to teach you all sorts of things, but you know what ranks highest on the priority list?

You guessed it: Swine Flu! (Didn't we just end the school year talking about this?)

The teachers had their "big talk"/convocation today, and you know...the big story was how to wash those paws of yours! For example, when you lick those paws, do you slide your tongue in between your toes? Do you rub them side to side for a full five minutes? Do you dry them properly on the pre-approved towels? Well, I hope you do...because those swine/H1N1 2009 Fall Flu germs can last from anywhere between two to eight hours! So...that was my inspiration for today. It's gonna get me lickin' and scratchin' and watchin' you for the first signs of any malady whatsoever.

Here are some of the other topics discussed on your behalf today: global awareness, twenty-first century skills, strategic learning, differentiated instruction, positive behavioral systems, teaching core values, how to handle birthdays, how not to handle birthdays, approved snacks, how we're already behind China, but India is right there too, changes in technology that we have to plan for but don't know anything about yet, and changes in how children are raised that we're planning for but don't know anything about yet too. If that wasn't enough, we were able to come back and learn about power schools, global curriculum changes that we probably won't have time to teach and scheduling so that all learners can and will learn well...pretty darn well, we hope! I'm a little confused, Spot, if you can't already tell. But I will have it all together come Wednesday. And you know what, Spot? I will not do to you what was done to me today...because even though everyone was very well-intended and polite, they fried my brain on the very first day! We're gonna move a little more slowly there pup, so don't you worry. SCHOOL IS FUN...and we're gonna have a great time this year!

In Your Face!

Okay, Spot...it's coming, there's no denying that. I am starting to get the nervous-nelly-nightmares, my mind is starting to imagine myself crammed into the classroom with all twenty-four of you.

And today? Well...while you were out jumping in the pool, chasing a toad, and skipping around the neighborhood (doubt that, it was 100 degrees in the shade!), I was in school setting up the classroom.

And guess what! Promise not to tell?

I was excited!! I felt like that little kid that used to play school in the barn across the street. I pulled out the pencils, plastered a few posters up and spruced up the display case outside our room! Am I crazy? Well, of course.

I'm good to go until the masses make their way down the hall and the rumbling feet start to sound on the stairways. It's THEN that I really get the nervous-nellies...cuz then? Then I have to do something with all of you to prevent mass anarchy!!

So, get out there and buy all those shiny new school supplies! And hurry-up and finish your summer book (You ARE reading, right?). And I'll see you front and center in just 13 more days. (AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!) I'll have had a nightmare or two at LEAST before then, I'm sure!

Close Encounters of a Sixth Grade Kind

Okay Spot, I know...it's R & R time. I'm supposed to be completely immersed in my book while sipping on lemon water and thinking about a dip in the ocean. But...then I spy a couple of elevenish/twelvish kids on the beach having a great time with a couple of skim boards along the edge of the surf.

I spot a couple of others digging a pit in the sand. Later, another pair is racing up the dunes toward the icecream man. Clearly, they are lost in the sun and the surf. They've shed the spoils of a school year long gone.

But...I catch myself thinking about the new pups headed my way this fall. And you know, Spot? I even got a little bit goose-bumpy thinking about it! But then...I shake my head side to side real quick--you know the way you do when you're trying to cast a nasty song out of your head? I do this because 1) it's way TOO EARLY. 2) It'll start up my pre-school year night terrors, and 3) I'll be spinning ideas/plans in my head all summer long! (And that's worse than the night terrors!)

So Spot, I bounced up, dropped my book and threw myself in the ocean. The tide was coming back in off the sand bar, so I had quite a workout getting out to the biggest waves. I stood on my tippy toes, jumped the waves and waited. When my dream wave formed, I was ready to ride it all the way to the shore. I paddled hard and rode that bugger all the way in...at the last minute colliding with a boogie board...and a little guy--just about the size of my soon-to-be new sixth graders. He bonked me on the head, but I didn't care. We both rolled up on shore and laughed. "Sorry," he said. "Don't worry about it," I said. I just shook it off and chalked it up. It was a close one...but I'm off the hook and I know that. Summer rules! And for now, I'm staying right where my feet are...planted firmly on a sandy shore! (But Spot? That new pup sure was a cutie pie...so in that, there's hope!)