How I failed at High School and Why It's Been So Long Since I Last Blogged

Well, it has been quite a while since I blogged--over half a year in fact and the reason is that I failed at high school. The high school where I teach--not the one where I studied (and graduated, thank you very much!) I didn't fail in the traditional sense. I failed because first I overestimated some of my colleagues, secondly because I folded my cards rather than play out my hand and thirdly, because I was just had too much going on with my classes and my dance group to expend energy on a fight.

Let me explain. Last January 16th I posted an entry that I was very proud of, which was inspired by an article I had read in the New York Times about students from elite, public high schools that were bored at Ivy League Schools as undergraduates, or who could just coast through because their high school curriculum had been so rigorous and so advanced that college was a time to finally catch an episode of The Family Guy. During their high school careers, they had never had time to see TV. Anyway, I contrasted the experiences of those students with the ones of my students in my regular level Spanish III classes, in a good public high school in Austin, TX. That week I had been forced to teach roman numerals to my students, who could not understand their cultural reading about a pre-colombian culture not because of the Spanish, but because the centuries were expressed as roman numerals. In four classes, I had only one student who knew them. I was also constantly monitoring my English, because my active, everyday vocabulary in English confused too many students. Once I used the word "glee" and I was accused of always using such big words. Thankfully on that one, another student pointed out it was only four letters long.

Anyway, the point was that I was teaching good students (many never take level three of a language and the truly ambitious usually take the honors level) at a good school and these kids were no where near studying nano-physics or whatever it was that the kids in Virginia and New York state featured in the New York Times were up to. Too many of my students weren't getting beyond football games and episodes of My Super Sweet Sixteen. I actually had students who wouldn't take their books home--ever. Something was wrong. But something was equally wrong with the kid at Princeton who was spending his time watching episodes of The Family Guy, because he'd already done papers on everything on his reading list for freshman year.

Both the culture of achievement to the point of insanity (that's why kids are taking Aterol illegally--to keep awake and concentrate and accomplish everything on their parents' and guidance counselor's list to pump up bragging rights for family and school) and the culture that allows bright students from well-off homes to think it is okay not to take books home and get mad if we ask them to participate in class instead of listening to their i-pods.

That's the summary version of the original posting (lost, once I pulled it from my blog, as my hard drive crashed--another story for another day).

The scene:

I was teaching my fifth period class, when another teacher from my department (notice I am careful not to name names), waved me into the hallway. "I'm teaching" I mouthed. She gave me a look like "This is a matter of life and death", so I excused myself from my students and went into the hallway.

"Do you have something about the high school on your blog?", she asked in a concerned whisper.

"What?", I was expecting something like, "There's been a bomb threat." or "Help, can my kids come into your room for the rest of the period--there's an emergency and I have to go." I did not expect a question about my blog. I mean, did anyone even read my blog? And, so what? I'm teaching.

"Teachers are saying you have things about the high school on the blog and if I were you I would take it down right now, " she warned, sounding frantic.

"What? I'm teaching."

"Take it down. Look don't worry. Just take it down. I can't talk now, but I would really take it down."

Okay, yeah, I won't worry.

"Who said what?", I asked, my mind running a million miles an hour in at least as many directions.

"Look, I don't want to say. Don't worry about it. Just, if you can take it down, I would do so...now."

Okay, I am really worried now. I have found schools to be a hotbed of shit and you don't want to be in the shit, because if some sticks to you, you'll smell forever--its like getting on the wrong side of the "it" crowd in seventh grade. And people love a scandal. Had someone hacked into my blog? Had someone said something about students by name? Was there going to be an investigation? Would I end up on the front page of the Metro Section as the latest teacher gone wrong?

Once I got my kids onto their next task, I opened my computer to see my blog. No one had hacked in, but indeed, as I thought about the last entry I had written, I had said some negative things. Thank god I hadn't been focusing on "No Child Left Behind"--that would have made this one look sweet. Well, I figured I better get rid of it (not foreseeing the later meltdown of my hard drive, because I just meant from my blog--if any of you printed out the January 16th post, I'd like a copy). I deleted it.

Now, just the day or two before, another of my department members had written me an evil email about my class management and cc'd my supervising assistant principal, without ever coming into my class or speaking to me. Luckily, I was backed up by the administration, but I thought, "What is going on here? Does someone want me to quit? How many people are involved in this?". Public education will make you paranoid. People talk about "inside the beltway politics", but they need to step inside the school house.

I went to one of the assistant principals who didn't know anything about it. That ap called in another who confirmed that he and yet another had reviewed the blog entry after receiving an anonymous complaint from one of my fellow teachers, who would remain anonymous. Apparently, they'd let it go, because as far as they could see I had only been exercising my freedom of expression, but that if I felt so negatively about the school and thought schools in the North East were so superior, why was I teaching?

Okay, apparently they missed the point that I think both extremes are bad. But okay, I wasn't being fired. Below, you'll find the email of one of my high school friends, who, I was shocked to find out reads my blog. Months ago I asked her if I could use her email and she agreed, but then I didn't blog again. She got the point of the email and lives in one of the uber-districts in Virginia. She has good perspective, so you may want to check it out.

So, I was busy with school, busy with the folklorico program; we were going to competition; we had spring season of shows coming up; I was tired and I stopped blogging. I just couldn't deal with the stress of knowing that someone out there, some cowardly person, who couldn't write a response or even come to me with concerns (if they really had any other than trying to get me into trouble--sounds pretty seventh grade, right?) before running to the administration and then gossiping to at least one other teacher in my department about it (the one who "warned" me) could be waiting to "get me" and use my own words against me. Seventh grade sucked the first time. I was too busy to do seventh grade over again.

Now it is this post that is sounding really negative, but the truth of the matter is that I couldn't and I can't do anything about anyone who is destined to live in the seventh grade forever. And I knew that. I had shared the fact that I blogged in conversation openly while eating lunch with other teachers and it was possible that some of them would actually read it. I mean I write it, so hopefully someone will read it, right? But, I guess I had that little hope still burning in me (because, I promise, I am not really a negative person) that if someone liked something very much or if someone really thought I was off base or even if they thought I was really negative, they would respond to the blog or start a conversation with me. I mean, that's what blogs are, right? A means of communication--a conversation with the World. I guess I am an idealist.

Maybe I should just stick to politics. No one ever gets upset with that.

No, I will continue to write about what I want to write about and I will continue to think about and respond to things I read in the Times, hear on NPR and observe in the World around me. Because I have a freedom of expression. The assistant principal who shall not be named told me so with another assistant principal as a witness!!! So does the teacher trapped in the seventh grade, but if they ever get to high school, they can write me back. We'll talk--we'll do lunch. (okay, that's pushing it).

...Since January, my folklorico group performed well at contest in March, put on a great spring show in April, performed four shows in three venues for Cinco de Mayo and ran an successful concession stand during summer school. I led a group of students to Peru and Bolivia in June (and my folklorico kids managed the concession stand without me physically present!), and we had a fabulous time (I got food poisoning in Peru and went to the hospital, but I am saving that episode for a health care entry). I got back and found the new dance floor that my wonderful principal (so beyond 7th grade) had ordered for my dancers. My husband and I are currently just three weeks away from receiving an exchange student from Brazil, who will go to the same school where I teach--very cool. I have registered for two dance classes that I will take, rather than teach during the month of August--and hopefully beyond. And finally, I am excited about teaching two classes of ESL (English as a Second Language) in addition to Spanish this school year. Can't you tell I am sooooo negative. Not. I am really looking forward to this new year--new classes, new challenges (new material for the blog).

Okay, now you all know the story! I am sorry if I let anyone down. I actually had two different people ask me about my blog this week and it spurred me on! I am grateful, even if you are the only two people out there reading this. Thank you.

Below is what my friend, bless her heart, sent me after the infamous school entry:

Maura,

I read your blog from the 16th about education and feel compelled to write to you. I agree with so much of what you have to say. Living in Fairfax County, land of educational competition, is a rather interesting experience. Although my kids are too young to be directly affected by some of the debates currently going on in the county educational system I have been following them closely. Not only will my kids be affected by the outcome eventually but I will be living in an area populated by graduates of this system. Sometimes I have to wonder at the pressure put on students in this county.

I was reading an article in the Washington Post a few months ago about a new problem facing the summer school program. Apparently increasing numbers of students are taking advantage of classes being offered over the summer not for remediation but in order to skip ahead during the school year. If they take basic biology over the summer they can then take the AP class in the fall and not risk getting a C or B in the class. Some students are so worried about their GPAs that they are taking summer school classes in order to assure that they will be familiar with the material in the fall and will be assured of getting an A in the class. Where does this leave the students who actually need assistance in these subjects? Teachers are having a hard time teaching to all the levels in these summer classes. Often times they find themselves teaching to the brighter/ more talented students and the others are left out. Teachers who were expecting to teach a class aimed at students who needed a little extra assistance/motivation in learning a subject are finding themselves teaching a very mixed group of students. Apparently the brighter students tend to monopolize the teacher's time and attention making it very difficult to reach students who may be difficult to reach to begin with. This could not possibly be what the summer school program was intended for. What happened to going to the beach or the pool over the summer? What happened to the concept of relaxation???

There also has been debate about the Gifted and Talented Centers here in Fairfax. Currently students are placed in the Gifted Program based on test taken in 2nd grade. (Teacher recommendations and parent input are a part of the process as well) Once in the program students, beginning in 3rd grade, are bussed to the nearest GT center where they attend school through 5 or 6th grade with other equally academically talented kids. Where is the diversity in these GT centers? (Racially Fairfax County has plenty of diversity but diversity is about more then race) How does this help kids learn that everyone has different talents, abilities, and interest? Does this contribute to the craziness of high school? Why do kids need to change schools in 3rd grade and then again for middle school? What has happened to the idea of the neighborhood school? There is some talk about getting rid of the GT centers at the elementary levels but opponents point out how much more they are able to offer in terms of special programs and advanced classes. How many advanced classes does a 10 year old need? Why can't the neighborhood school support a GT class for each grade where students are being challenged and taught with other advanced kids but part of a larger school community where there is greater diversity of talent and interest? What happens to the kid who does not do so well academically in 2nd grade but by 4th grade is a whiz? (My understanding is that is very hard to get into the GT program after the placements are done for 3rd grade) And we wonder why our high school kids are stressed.

Many graduates of this school system report of being bored and "over prepared" for college. What is the point of putting kids through "hell" for 4 years of high school so that they can be bored in college? Something is wrong with this picture. Also, not every kid needs to go to an Ivy League College. Who do we think will be our hairdressers, repair people, and car mechanics? There are plenty of fields that do not require an Ivy League education.

I have been trying to understand exactly how the AP system is set up here, but I do know that the high schools are encouraged and rewarded for having a high percentage of students in the AP classes. It is good to challenge students and encourage borderline students to stretch themselves but at what point do we draw the line. I never took one AP class, did very well at a good college, and am happy with my life. Honestly I am glad I have a solid education but some would argue that I am wasting it by staying home taking care of kids. At what point do we need to develop and encourage skills not measured on standardized tests?


I think the question that has not been asked by our society as we think about our educational system is "What does it mean to be well educated and what is the goal of that education?" It is well and good to challenge students to excel at biophysics but do they have the skills they need to be successful in other areas of life??? Until we really figure out what the point of a solid education, beyond having a "good" job, we will continue to miss the boat in creating a system that really meets the needs young people.

Just felt a need to rant and felt you would appreciate it. Hope all is well and talk to you soon!

Chris

But keep your enemies closer

In all the rhetoric coming out of the Bush Administration this week in their attempt to convince Congress and the American people that a military "surge" is the right strategy for "success" in Iraq, did you all notice the list of demands that Condaleeza Rice insisted be met in order for her to meet with her Iranian counterpart? It is, says the Bush Administration, Iran and its described "colony", Syria, that are supplying the insurgents and stoking the fires of the Shiites in Iraq. Either the Iranians basically lay down, roll over and play dead, or we are not going to have anything to do with them. Otherwise, says Rice, we would be like "supplicants".

Of course, we are in this position, because the Bush government has made such a point of not talking to the Iranians through out the deteriorating situation in the Middle East that it may indeed look like only desperation would drive us to the table. But that is just one more blunder to add to the growing Bush blunders in the region. In fact, it was a die-hard Republican, Senator Hagel, not some raging liberal Democrat, who called the administration's handling of the war in Iraq the "nation's biggest blunder since Vietnam". I would argue that this is a bigger blunder, seeing as we had a chance to learn from Vietnam, but didn't. But that's neither here nor there. The issue is, we need to talk to Iran.

We need to talk to Iran. We need to talk to Syria. We need to talk to quite a number of world leaders that we find distasteful, because you know what? They talk to each other. Take for instance the extremist thorn in our side, Hugo Chavez of Venezuela, recently sworn in for his third term as president of one of our principal oil suppliers. This week he announced his plans to nationalize CANTV, the nation's largest telecommunications corporation (of which Verizon has a large interest), as well as Electricidad de Caracas and various energy projects, in which numerous U.S. oil companies have a stake. Sure he called President Bush the devil in a speech at the U.N. Sure he has Fidel Castro on speed dial, but guess who's currently visiting with him? No other than Mahomoud Ahmadinejad, President of Iran.

From Venezuela, the Iranian president is off to meet with some of our other neighbors, in Nicaragua and Ecuador, both of which have recently elected governments not particularly friendly to the United States. And Chavez has his hands in everything. Recently, two dozen uniformed members of Venezuela's military showed up in Bolivia, much to the chagrin of President Morales' opponents, as the Congress was not consulted prior to the arrival. Violence has erupted this week in that country and more unrest is feared, as Morales encourages large numbers of highland peasants to move to the eastern portion of the country diluting opposition support in the area, which is the center of his opposition.

If the situation in the Middle East is critical to our national security, then surely the situation in our own hemisphere is, as well. And now, linked by oil and mutual dislike of the "American Devil", alliances are forming between the two. But we wouldn't want to look like "supplicants". Of course, saving face is more important than developing a relationship that may give us insight into an enemy. At least that is what the Bush administration would have us believe.

We talked to the Soviet Union. We talked to China. We didn't talk to Cuba. The Soviet Union fell apart. China supplies Wal-Mart. Cuba is Cuba. So much for the poor, deprived masses rising up at the first sign of weakness from its aging President. We had no clue what to expect. Castro's been bed-ridden for months and all goes on as usual on the island. We don't know if he is dying. We don't know much of anything. Why? We don't talk to Cuba.

Sun-Tzu, the famous Chinese Military General and author of "The Art of War" is credited with the saying, "Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer". I personally think he had something there. It might be cool to hang out for some fish and chips in a pub with the Brits, but I don't think it is nearly as important as having some tea with Iranians. Cuba is a small island, whose most famous and dangerous export is the cigar. Ever since the Soviet Union pulled the plug on its nuclear missile program there, we haven't had much to fear from the island but for illegal second-hand smoke.

Iran exports, arms, money, terrorists and oil. It also exports dialogue with unfriendly governments in our hemisphere, including one of our biggest sources of, yes, oil. And now, we have Venezuela itself exporting military advisers to additional neighbors. Do you see what I see? Maybe "supplicants" isn't too far from the truth.

Not running away to nowhere

Something crazy happened to me last night. I listened to myself yell at my husband, and it scared me. It was terrifying, because I don't know where the voice came from. I mean, I couldn't hear my voice inside my head and it didn't sound like my usual voice. I know that I was crying, but that was not enough to distort my voice into this screeching, screaming, blood curdling, wounded animal kind of primordial shriek that rushed to the surface from some hidden depth and defended me. I know that this stream of sound, that these words were coming from inside of my body but I heard them as though I was not the one uttering them.

And I say that they defended me, because my I saw my husband recoil from them in a way that he had never recoiled from me. I might have been pathetic and unattractive when I have fallen into a real slobbering, catching my breath, please hear me, because you don't really seem to hear me when I speak to you in a regular way kind of cry, but I never saw him recoil, as though rather than annoyed or angry that he had to deal with me and I couldn't just be agreeable and make his life easy all the time and oh shit, there she goes again--no he looked horrified. He looked like he was looking at something or maybe hearing something, like I was, that meant more business than I had ever meant in my life.

This voice was not sad. It was not hurt. It was not frustrated and tired, though it left me and my body exhausted. This voice was angry. It didn't want understanding or support or love or affection or someone to believe in it and to share its life like what I always seem to end up crying about. The voice that answered my husband's angry "get up" as I sobbed on the floor because my actions, sacrifices, words, love or whatever had not been enough again, told him to, I believe it was something to the effect of "Shut the fuck up." and "Don't ever talk to me like that again when I am upset". But it wasn't hurt and desperate. The voice had authority to it. The voice wasn't going to take it anymore. The voice said "me", but it wasn't a "me" that I recognized.

This "me", this voice, was desperate, but not in a way that I had ever been. This me was not running away to nowhere and finding a way to cope and make due. This me was not running in circles trying to be okay and carry on. This me was a wild animal that had been suddenly wounded, caught off guard, and it was cornered, but it would not lie down and be eaten. It could not crawl off and lick its wounds again. This me lept out of that corner with its claws primed and screamed out a warning so desperately strong that the hunter and the prey switched places. This voice,that came from inside of me, was not someone to be underestimated, pushed around, kept waiting or placated. It was a voice to be feared.

God knows I feared it. And from the look on my husband's face, he feared it. I certainly don't want to become whatever it was. But I would like to harness it, if wild animals can ever be harnessed, and learn its energy and its fight and determination.

I want to write. I want to start my own business. I want to have people read my words and I want them to change and to make the world better. I don't want to terrify anyone, but I want them to know that I have a voice to be heard and to be paid attention to--not because they feel sorry for me, but because I have something valuable to say. And I want to say what I think needs to be said, not what someone thinks is okay for me to say or what is next in the Spanish curriculum for my classroom or what nice girls say. I want to say what I think needs to be said.

That is what this "me" said last night. It said I was hurting, that I didn't want to hurt and that addressing a person in pain with anger was wrong. And it is wrong. But I think now that I don't have to be that person in pain. Now I have that voice that defended me. I have that that voice that sprung into action and protected me.

At that moment I think I split in two. The exhaustion I felt must have come from giving birth to that voice. From deep inside me it burst out and its first birth cries saved me. With God beside me, I won't have to run away to nowhere ever again. I will speak.

Goodbye, Mr. President. You were a good guy.

If there is anything we can take away from the state funeral of President Ford, it is that he was a good guy. He was brave; he was kind; he was sincere, open, self-deprecating but confident. He was what most of us wish our children could grow up to be. He never wanted to be president. He wanted to serve his county. He seemed to have raised his kids the same way he conducted his short, unlikely presidency. He wanted to send children into the world who would leave it better off then it had been before. In unusual and very sincere bi-partisanship, since his death last week, those with whom he had served in Congress, lived in his neighborhood, attended his church, served in his cabinet or played golf agreed he had left the country better off than it had been when he assumed the highest office in the land.

This mid-westerner, who the first President Bush described as walking out of a Norman Rockwell painting, married a strong, independent divorcee, who he loved through thick and thin during their 58 year union. Whether speaking out on her breast cancer or her struggle with addiction to prescription pills, he did not try silence his Betty, but respected her candor. Together they raised four children, at least two of whom stood this weekend by the coffin of their father in the rotunda of the U.S. Capital Building to greet and thank the common citizens who had stood hours in line to pay their last respects to our 38th president.

He pardoned his predecessor, President Nixon, choosing national reconciliation over his own political future. How often do we see these sacrifices today? How often do we see reconciliation today in politics, at all?

As we gear up for our new Congressional term, as Nancy Pelosi and her Democrats take to the floor of the House, let us hope that her Democrats are our Democrats--our servants. Let them serve the whole country. Let them be open and honest. Let them reach out across the aisle and up Pennsylvania Avenue. Let them take some inspiration from this great Republican. Let us all.

Goodbye, Mr. President. You were a good guy. You are a good example. May your lessons be learned well and practiced often. May you look down on us always and be pleased.

Welcome to 2007

Its a new year and that brings the hope and promise of what is to come. I am excited for 2007, as I kicked it off in a very happy, friendly environment with a husband I love and new friends with positive outlooks. In only a few short weeks, the new Congress will kick off a session with our first woman speaker of the house, Nancy Pelosi, a Democrat originally from my home state of Maryland, though she is elected out of a district in California. Maybe her duel coast roots and the democratic (small "d") spirit will start to unite our country rather than divide it into cynical political factions. Internationally, the islamists are on the run in Somalia. We hope it stays that way.

Of course, there is sadness, too, and reason for worry. As it has for too long, Iraq looms large. The new year was marked by the 3000th death of U.S. military personnel in the Iraq war. More than 3700 civilians also died in just the last month of the sectarian conflict. Saddam was finally put to death, but in a most undignified, ruthless and sectarian way, that we must pray does not further escalate the divide between Shiite and Sunni Muslims in that war-torn nation. It was not the most auspicious beginning to "democratic" justice we could have hoped for. But the tyrant is dead and his shadow will hopefully loom less and less large with the passage of time.

I myself greet 2007 with a peaceful, hopeful heart. I will continue to highlight the issues that I feel need our attention and compassion, but I will try to do it always with a spirit of helpfulness and I will count my blessings, showing thanks for all the good, happiness and comfort I have in this world--remembering always, that there but for the grace of God go I.

Happy New Year!