To the kid who rushed through that standardized reading screener in 16 minutes, beating the rapid question algorithm and scoring in the 6th percentile, and later destroyed his pen, getting ink all over the table and chairs around him, and then cried when I kept him at lunch and asked how I could help him, telling me he didn't have any friends at school:
I hear you.
The group of adults filed in quietly just as my class was getting settled after the bell. I nodded a greeting to the visitors, noting that they were from admin, central office, and the DOJ, there to observe me and my co-teachers as we instructed our class of students, many of whom were ELLs, SWDs, or both.
"Today you all are going to take a test," I informed my students, and as I launched into the description and overview of the standardized assessment I was being required to administer, the observers quickly packed up and slipped out.
"You know September is not a good month to decide when to retire," my friend Mary reminded me this afternoon. We were both weary from a day of forcing squirrely kids to take yet another standardized test, this one new to us, too, so harder to troubleshoot the inevitable technical glitches.
"I know," I agreed.
"We always feel this way in the beginning of the year," she continued, "overwhelmed and cranky."
"I know," I agreed again, and I really did. Just last night I had reread what I wrote here on this blog one year ago:
This is not the time of year for me to make any decisions about my career.One month on, it seems like students should be settling in as systems and procedures become familiar, but that is not what is happening. The kids from 7th grade are still coming back, seeking the comfortable routine we worked for 10 months to establish, and the new sixth graders are still dazed and confused by the expectations their predecessors eventually mastered.But I know the keyword is "eventually". I know that last year at this time I was still working hard and waiting for everything to click, and even feeling a little discouraged that those kids didn't get how great the class could be, if only they gave it a chance. If I think about it, I will recollect what a slog the first unit always is, and I will understand that building community and relationships takes time, especially after the initial excitement of a new school year wears off.And so I must resolve to carry on and make adjustments for the new group when necessary, to be mindful that some of the activities that were awesome last year might not be as good a fit this time around, and to notice the new magic whenever it happens.
Which is exactly how I am feeling today.
"Mahjong?" our dog walker commented when she came by today and spied the zipper tote on our bench. "You are really getting geared up for retirement, aren't you?" She shook her head. "First pickleball, now this!"
"This year really might be it for me," I told her.
She gasped in mock horror and looked at Lucy.
"Enjoy every minute!" I teased her, "Come next September, I might be walking her myself."
"Not you!" she answered. "You are going to be so busy with your mahjong and your pickleball and your bridge club and your bowling and your who-know-what-else. You are going to need a dog walker when you retire more than ever!"
Does anyone else think Ophelia is an amazing name for a slow-moving tropical storm that drowned the areas in its path with several inches of rain?
Does anyone else think two solid weekend days of wet gusts and drenching rain sucks, no matter how awesome the storm's name is?
Yeah, I thought so.
As we were out running a few errands on this blustery first day of fall, it was hardly surprising that we were drawn to the Halloween displays. As expected as our gravitation to those holiday iitems might be? There were a couple of surprises as we browsed the now somewhat seasonal merch.
First, the choices were limited; many of the shelves were well-picked over. Obviously the stuff had been for sale for a while, and business was brisk.
The other unexpected turn of events occured when we rounded the corner to turn down the last aisle. There, twinkling from the shelves in the back of the store, was the first of the Christmas lights and decorations.
And yet... How surprised were we, really?
When she talks about enlightenment, my morning yoga and meditation teacher often says, "You have to go through the goo to get to the ru." She means learning to use the practice to stay centered no matter what life throws at you.
The last couple of days have provided plenty of goo to work through. Starting with several new instructional initiatives by the central ELA office, there has been a lot of work to do after my teaching day is through. My classes are larger this year, and I'm working with 2 new co-teachers who are also new to the building. Our administration has decided to cross-team special education and English language learners, which in my opinion weakens the safety net for some of our students who need the most support. Our counselor is new, and students keep getting added and moved around my classes, upsetting the dynamic I'm trying to build, as well as overloading four of my sections, while making one almost unproductively small.
And finally, in his weekly email to staff, our superintendent off-handedly dropped the news that every single employee will be enrolled in a new insurance plan starting in January 2024. For me, the change is a nuisance, transferring prescriptions and checking to see if my doctors are still in-network, but for Heidi, it is overwhelmingly enormous.
She has been with her HMO for 30 years, and has a health team in place to help her manage her type 1 diabetes. Now, she has to find and put together a new team and also manage the transfer of her prescriptions, insulin pump, continuous glucose monitor, and their supplies by the first of the year. There is no guarantee that her devices will be covered or supported by the new plan.
54% of employees of our school system and their families are in the same boat, including women expecting children, children with chronic health care issues, patients with surgeries scheduled after January 1, and those being treated for both severe and minor health issues. They will lose their doctors, their counselors, and other healthcare professionals.
The change has been in the works since January and was decided in July, and yet staff is just being notified of the done deal now. Now that's some goo.
