Above My Pay Grade

We had our big end of the year field trip today, and despite clear communication that all permission slips were due yesterday I found myself in the main office at 8 AM on the phone with a parent. One hundred people waited on two charter buses as an irate dad informed me that he had sent in the required paper work several weeks ago.

It didn't matter that not only had I personally reminded the student several times that he needed to turn in his permission, nor that I had called the dad the evening before to say that if his son brought in his forms this morning he would still be allowed to go. I explained then exactly what he needed and he assured me that he understood and would do what was necessary. Now he reverted to the story that they had submitted the forms weeks ago along with their payment.

"We only sent the permission slips home last week," I said.

"He has to go! It wouldn't be fair to leave him behind," his dad insisted. "This is not his fault."

"We can't take him without the form," I apologized.

"I sent that form, I know it!" he told me.

We went back and forth a couple of times until finally I said, "I can't make exceptions. It's not my rule."

And with those magic words I realized that I needed to hand this phone call off to someone with more authority. "Just a moment," I told him. "I'm going to let you talk to an administrator."

In the end, the administrator let the kid go. She emailed his dad a copy of the slip, he faxed it back, and she emailed it to me at the location of our trip. 

Anyone who knows me, knows that I am no hardass when it comes to deadlines and such. I believe that if something is worth doing, then it's worth doing as long as it's possible.

Even so... this case? Ridiculous.

Got Talent?

Today was our annual school talent show, and as every year I was impressed by the guts that the performers had to get up there and play, sing and/or dance in front of a packed house. Back when I was in school, talent shows had a different flavor. There was a lot of lip-syncing, baton twirling, and cheesy magic.

I remember a couple of years ago being surprised at the number of solo a capella acts in our school show. Several kids just got up there and sang into the mike. It seemed like such a huge risk to take, completely out of the middle school nature, but then someone reminded me that American Idol auditions had that format.

Over the last week or so, Heidi has really gotten into So You Think You Can Dance. This season is still at the try out stage, and I have to admit that they do a good job blending talent and personal backstories to make some pretty good television. I would never watch it on my own, but I don't mind having it on.

And, thanks to that viewing experience, I totally understood where the dance acts today were coming from. In fact it was all I could do to keep from calling out, "And... cue music."

Crunching the Numbers

Teachers always talk about the nature of one group of students compared to another. One year they are sweet, another sharp, still another short and stupid (not really-- but you get the idea). It's not the individuals we are characterizing, but rather how they interact: it's the group dynamic that shapes the collective personality.

This year? The kids on our sixth grade team have been... challenging. Sure, there are a lot of variables, but the exact same teachers teaching the exact same subjects have all come to the consensus that, communally, these kids do less work and get in more trouble than the sixth graders in the two years past.

Well, that's been our impression, but today I was faced with some sobering evidence. As I do each year, I had the students add up the total number of pages they have logged for their independent reading since September. Last year, my students read an average of 10,788 pages per person for a total of over three quarters of a million pages. The figures today were very disappointing. These kids averaged 5,356 pages, less than half of their counterparts.

 Not surprisingly, many weren't too keen on the recommended summer reading list I offered. A lot weren't even willing to commit to choosing their own books to read. "We just want to chill," one student said, "especially after all the crud of school." There were nods of agreement all around.

"That may be," I shrugged, "but you can bet there are some kids who are going to read this summer, and you know what? They are the ones you are going to be competing with to get into college and probably for the jobs you want."

Was it my hopeful imagination or did their eyes grow slightly wider?

"Well... I might read something," the student answered, and fortunately there were several nods from his peers.

The View from Sunday Night

So much accomplished, so much left to do.

Break Point

The end of the school year is that proverbial snowball. It seems to approach at glacial speed until it doesn't, and then? It rockets toward you rolling up everything in its wake. In addition to the skis that always stick out of it in cartoons, you will also find those final assignments that just did not get finished all the way.

My classes spent their last day in the computer lab on Friday, and there were lots of students who had lots to do if they wished to finish all their work. "This is it!" I told them. "No more lab time this year!" Many were actually shocked. I think they believed that the year would go on indefinitely, probably because until last week it felt like it would.

I commiserated with them. "I kind of wish we had a few more days," I said at one point. "Not that I'm not ready for vacation, because I AM!" I added, perhaps a little too quickly.

"Wow," someone said, "You must really need a break!"

They have no idea.

Can't Get No...

Dogs are amazing.

My dog has been whining at the TV cabinet for three days or more. I know from experience that there has to be something she wants but can not get over there, but I can't find a thing. No toys or balls have rolled beyond her reach. Even when I stoop to scan beneath it, I find nothing. Still, she persists.

Say what you will about her exuberance for visitors, but even as she ages, she is a usually contented canine. So when she whines? I want to deliver.

And so there I was on hands and knees with a flashlight examining the darkest reaches of the cupboard's nether region when I spotted a sliver of a liver snack way in the back. How it got there I have no clue, but I know the end of its story. I swept it out, and I think I heard my dog sigh when she ate it, maybe in pleasure, maybe in relief, but definitely in

satisfaction. Hey, hey, hey.

Fathers Day

We had a celebration at school today to honor our retiring principal. It was a warm event and drew many people from near and far who have known her over the last 38 years of her career or even all of her life. Her 99-year-old dad made the trip up from Florida for the occasion. I don't think I've ever met anyone that old, and he was impressive-- very spry and on the ball. His off-the-cuff tribute to his daughter began, "She was an awful child," and rolled with the laughs from there. After seeing him, fifty more years seems totally do-able now.

I also saw a young woman who was in the first sixth grade group I taught. A teacher who is currently a stay-at-home mom, she was there to help out with another end-of-the-year activity. She was finished with her volunteer gig when we saw each other. "Where's Philip?" I asked about her toddler. She was all too happy to make a call to her dad who was babysitting. In no time, I was visiting with the trio in my classroom. It was a funny three generation kind of thing. Philip was adorable, and it was interesting to see Stephanie all grown up and in a totally different role, and Dave, her dad? Exactly the same as I remembered him: an unassuming, corny kind of aw-shucks guy with a lot going on underneath. He was clearly devoted to his children then as he is to his grandson now.

It's been 25 years since I've needed to buy a Fathers Day card, and many times the day passes with only a fleeting thought, and usually I don't really regret that.

Today I did.