Home-School Communication: Can We Talk?

I read an article about a change in the grading system in Memphis Public Schools. Basically, they've decided not to retain any kids in kindergarten through 4th grade, and they're replacing letter grades for the same group with spreadsheets for each student indicating mastery of content knowledge and skills. This checklist will follow the student from grade to grade. In addition, students who are not meeting grade-level benchmarks will receive targeted support.

To me, a teacher, this does not seem like such a radical plan, and to be honest I was a little disappointed that it wasn't more innovative. When I finished the main article, though, my eye fell upon the comments. There were over 300! I skimmed through the first few and then slowed down. I couldn't believe the outpouring of emotion from the citizens of Memphis. This comment sums up the general feeling:

This is absolutely, positively, ridiculously, bar-none the STUPIDEST God blessed thing I have ever heard of.

Let's not worry about fixing the problem, no! Let's just continue to lower standards and worry about children's "self esteem" rather than educating them to be able to function in the real world. We have employers who talk about how this generation of employees have the worst case of "gimme" they have ever seen, and we wonder why?? PATHETIC

I was shocked. Reading through several of the subsequent remarks showed me how little average citizens know about what happens at school and what an overall negative opinion they have of education in Memphis and in the U.S.

Gosh. Maybe I ought to rethink my Back-to-School-Night presentation.

Yay! Meetings

There's nothing like an all day meeting to really get you in the mood for a new school year. It may sound like I'm being sarcastic, but I assure you, I am not. Although I can't say I'm looking forward to those six hours or so tomorrow, I know it will get my head back in the game, and I do love the game.

Clean Start

How are you going to spend your last days of summer? Do you have any special plans? These are the considerate questions of those who know that I am a teacher and that school is starting soon.

As it turns out, I do have something going on these final days of vacation. I plan to wrap up the summer with a colon that is as clean as a whistle. Because of family health history, I have had a colonoscopy every three years for the last twelve, and this is the magic year. Perhaps you have heard from those you know who have had this experience that it's not the procedure, it's the preparation. What they mean is this: twenty invasive minutes is minimal compared to the 36 hours one must spend ensuring that the scope will have a clear view of your lower digestive system. Solid food is prohibited, and laxatives and their consequences are the order of the day.

Each time I have had a different attitude. At first, I just wanted to do it right; I followed the directions exactly and continued through the whole experience with wide eyes. The next couple of times, I was full of ideas and all sorts of creative interpretations of "clear liquid diet," but this time I'm simply resigned to a day and a half of mild discomfort. A couple of hours at the hospital tomorrow, and then me and my clean colon will be on our way home to get ready for the first big meeting of the school year on Thursday. Nice.

Ready to Roll

Probably my most common anxiety dream is that I'm at the airport, ready to go on a trip, and I've forgotten my passport at home. I can't count the variations I've had of this nightmare. I'm forever desperately trying to retrieve my passport and meet my party before the plane departs. There are always parking garages, taxis, escalators, and security people that are either helping me or hindering me, and my father is always there, somewhere, waiting for me to get my shit together and make the flight. I always wake up before the final act, so I never know what happens. Today I got my new passport in the mail. When my old passport expired in January, it was the first time since 1975 that I was without the credentials to leave the country. To be honest, I've only traveled abroad 3-4 times in the last ten years, and all but one of those trips was just across the border to Canada. My life is a lot different now than it was in the days when my family lived overseas and we all had airline passes that allowed us to standby for any open seat on any flight. I do miss the international travel, but on a teacher's salary the cost is prohibitive, and like many people, I get caught up in the details of leaving home-- who will care for my pets, water my plants, teach my students? Even so, I was uneasy without a valid passport, and flipping through the blank pages of my brand new booklet today I felt optimistic, looking forward to all the trips I might take between now and August 18, 2019. I was also glad to be prepared to go almost anywhere, should I have the need or the desire to do so, assuming I remember to bring the darn thing along.

The Ninth Month

The cicadas were screaming tonight as we pedaled the last leg of our bike ride. It was just after sunset, and there was the thinnest claw of a moon in the porcelain berry sky. It reminded me that the lunar month of Ramadan started yesterday, and I thought about how long these end-of-summer days will be for those who fast around here. When we lived in Saudi Arabia, the prevailing culture was Islamic, and so the pace of life there changed to accommodate Ramadan. As with most religious holidays, there are customs and traditions that mark the season, and at its heart, it is meant to be a month of celebration rather than self-deprivation.

Here in the U.S., my sixth grade students who are Muslim are on the cusp when it comes to observing this month of fasting. At their age fasting is not required, but for many of them it is a rite of passage just to attempt to abstain from eating and drinking from daybreak until dusk. Unlike the faithful who live in Islamic countries, these kids try to keep their fast among peers and teachers who may not be aware of, much less understand, their devotion, and so the temptations can be many. On the other hand, I've seen what a positive impact it can have simply to acknowledge Ramadan and encourage any students who are fasting.

Usually, the more significant the situation, the harder it is to be in the minority, and the actions of those in the majority can make all the difference. How we behave as a member of the dominant group is a good measure of any of us.

Splat

Today was the first real rainy day of the summer around here, and so we divided our Saturday between killing time and canning tomatoes. Somehow, the National Geographic Channel ended up on continuous loop in the living room, while thirty pounds of tomatoes were being processed in the kitchen. Turns out The Exploding Whale and that bushel of tomatoes were quite the gory duo-- hematically linked by the sanguine puddles they left dripping at the scene.

Preservation

About twelve years ago, I had a little bit of a health scare. It turned out to be nothing, but for a few weeks I had the chance to do some serious thinking about my own mortality. When it was all over with, I didn't go sky diving or change careers or anything, but for a while I was really glad to be healthy.

Today I sat in a doctor's office with someone I love and heard the worst possible news: ...is back ...aggressive ...hospice ...make you comfortable. I was stunned, but not surprised; it had been a four year battle and clearly something was taking its toll on her. She accepted the information with grace and dignity. We asked a few questions and then headed home.

When I opened the rear hatch of the car to put her walker in, she spied the case of empty mason jars in the back. "Are you going to do some canning?" she asked, and for a moment her voice was a little stronger than before. I told her about my plans to put up tomatoes and peaches, but it was hard to look forward with much enthusiasm.