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Hifiman
I Know I'm Not Smarter Than a 5th Grader

I'm at a new school and with a new class. I hardly know anyone on campus and I still get lost from time-to-time, but it doesn't matter. I have a great new class that I'm very excited about. It's going to be a big challenge since my class is 100% ELL. But I'll get the hang of it. In the meantime, maybe this will be the first class that will understand my horror stories of having once been their age and having to make tamales at home. Man I hated tamale weekend.

 
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The people we know, but never say hello to
by: Hifiman, 01-30-2010

It's been a full week of rain where I live. We need it so badly here in California that I can't possibly complain, but I'm done with it now. I want to get back outside. I want my daily walks in the park back. It's something I look forward to every day and try as I might, walking on a treadmill in the gym is a poor substitute. I miss the people at the park. I know none of them, but I see many of them nearly every day and even the ones I see just once often do leave a lasting impression on me.

I rarely interact with anyone at the park. I get there and put my earphones on and listen to an NPR podcast or two as I walk. It's a nice park. Something newly created in our neighborhood. It has one continuous trail made of concrete and clay. One end starts near one of the baseball fields and the other end loops around the tennis courts, which are sort of separate from the park since you have to pay to get into that compound. In the middle is very nice playground with several basketball courts on one end. I love everything about the park. It has nice green grass, which is still fairly greenish even though it's winter. All around the perimeter are various plants and trees. In summer they look great, but for winter they have pruned some of them to the point where they look like a clump of twigs sticking out of the ground. It's like the plants are faking their own death so no one bothers them.

I also enjoy the part of the trail that runs parallel to the very long parking lot. I love looking at the cars. As I round the corner near the tennis courts I start to see the Porches, Mercs, and Beemers belonging to the people playing tennis. At the midway point the vehicles change to minivans and SUVs that belong to all the mothers and families there to enjoy the playground with their children. And finally, when I get to the baseball fields the vehicles change yet again to a vast sea of pick-up trucks and SUVs when there's little league games being played. Most of them are backed into the parking spaces and judging by the way most of them sit in their space their drivers shouldn't be trusted to back a vehicle into a space anywhere. I entertain myself by looking the details of each car I pass. Some are dirty. It's okay, we all let our cars get that way from time to time, but you can instantly tell if a person doesn't take care of their car by the condition of the wheels. Are they dirty with brake dust? That's a careless person who just washes the paint. Are the wheels destroyed by scraping too many curbs? Yet another person who doesn't care about their car. What do the tires look like? Are they worn nearly down to the belt at the edge of the tread? I look to see who rotates their tires, who needs an alignment, and who could care less about a matched set of tires on their car. I know it's completely weird, but that's what I do. I'm also looking to see who the poor parkers are. They're the ones with the scratched, dinged, and scraped bumpers. Oh, the horrors.

Besides the scenery, the cars, and the podcasts it's the people I see that keep me entertained. There are people like me who are way out of shape and there to do a little walking. There's a few runners too, but I don't like those showoffs. I want to tell them to take their toned bodies and sweat somewhere else amongst their own kind. I see one family of runners out there quite a bit. It's a mother and father with one child in a stroller. They run around and around, each taking turns pushing the child in front. The man always runs without a shirt. The woman always stops when she's hot and sweaty to take hers off too, leaving just a sports bra on. I know that should be the highlight of my day, but it's not. Truth is I spend more time looking at the guy each time he passes. He's got amazing abs. I'm not sure how I feel about that, but I think it's okay. There was no "movement" on my part.

There are lots of mothers with their children on the trail too. Usually the kids are quite young and on bikes. I love this spectacle. There are a few moms I see fairly regularly who have more than one child on bikes. It's comical to watch as the mothers desperately try to keep both children near them and keep them out of the way of others and pick them up when they fall, can't steer around a pole, or just plain lose steam and need a push to keep going. I always think someone needs to stop and give them a shirt or something that says, "Best Mom Ever." I mean that. They are inspirational. I hope their children remember that in the years to come.

The thing that I love most are the really young ones on the bikes or tricycles. They're at that age when they've got that deer caught in the headlights look on their faces. They're at the park, they're on a bike, they know they're supposed to pedal, but they have this sort of worried look on their face like they know they're supposed to be enjoying it or doing something more, but they just don't have a clue as to what it is or how to do it.

One mother in particular always catches my eye. She has a young child in a stroller that she pushes around the park. The mother always has this huge smile on her face as if this is the most joyous part of her day. But let me tell you she has a struggle to make it happen. She drives a big black Ford pick-up that her man has lifted a couple of feet in the air. How do I know this was her man's choice? I don't, but I doubt there are many women out there dumb enough to lift a truck that high. I don't get what guys are thinking when they do this. It's still not a monster truck and it's off-road capabilities have been ruined because its center of gravity is too high. I call them compensation trucks. In any case this woman has to lift her child's car seat waaaay high into the air just to get her in the back seat. That can't be fun. It's also a difficult job getting the stroller into and out of the pick-up bed. Why? If she's going to drive this she should demand it be lowered. At least until the kid is old enough to climb a ladder to get into it on her own.

There's a man I find amusing too. He's about my age, tall, and athletic. He looks like he could be runner, but he chooses to walk too. One look at him and you just know there's something about him that's a bit off. He seems to be one of those guys who marches to a different beat. He rides a funky bike called a "Townie." It's an odd sort of take on a beach cruiser. It's just not my style. The guy is also probably the only man on the planet who wears those new Sketchers shoes with the curved soles. They look so comfortable, but I'm too chicken to be seen in public in them. Lately the guy has taken to walking with brightly colored aluminum poles that look like the kind people use to ski with. He has one in each hand and looks as if he's using them to boost his speed each time they touch the ground. Once in a while he will tuck them under his arms and crouch down low when he walks as if he's doing a downhill slalom. I laugh every time I see that. One time I saw him walking with a friend who imitated him in every way. They had the same Townie bikes, similar walking sticks, and the same curvy shoes. I thought it was great he had a friend that looked up to him, but I only saw them together one time. I hope they didn't have a disagreement.

The park's playground fascinates me too. It has this huge play structure that any kid would love to play on. There are endless possibilities for fun and injury with that thing. I know it's another weird side of me, but since becoming an elementary teacher I spend my time imagining all the ways children can get seriously hurt on play structures when I'm on recess duty. I think it comes from all the silliness we must endure on campus to protect students from harming themselves. No running on concrete or the blacktop, no basketball, soccer, or dodgeball without the presence of a teacher. Swings and even tether ball courts have a long list of rules to promote safety, but play structures, well, anything goes on play structures. It amuses me endlessly because kids use it in ways no adult can ever imagine. And most of it can cause injury with a slip or a push. I love watching the kids get creative as they find new ways to play and terrorized each other on this structure, but perhaps the thing that amuses me most about it is the one thing it doesn't have - padding.
The basketball courts are right next to the playground. Each one of them has thick padding wrapped around the poles for each hoop to protect the players who may inadvertently run into it. Yet the poles on the play structure - the ones where the kids are chasing each other around on, are bare metal. Perhaps games of tag are best played on the basketball courts.

I can't wait for the rain to stop. I can't wait to get back to judging people by how long they let the road grime from the rains stay on their cars.

5 Comments

Teaching is easy. You're just doing it wrong.
by: Hifiman, 01-16-2010

My wife's district is just like any other district out there. People at the top come up with some bright ideas to throw money at. It seems like all too often it's done with little thought and no questions asked. Well, at least no questions until the money is spent. As frustrating as it can be I think my wife's district has really come up with a winner. And what makes it so great is that they've come up with a way that makes teaching so easy that truly just about anyone can do it. It should do wonders for their state test scores and their eligibility pool for teaching candidates.

This district likes its walkthroughs. My wife's school had a group of district people doing periodic walkthroughs last year to keep tabs on teaching and make sure teachers implement any tiny silliness this group can think of. The school scored well on last year's state tests so of course this group attributes it all to their implemented silliness. Some might think the school is doing so well that this group's time would be best spent spreading their silliness to other schools throughout the district. No. This group thinks that if they leave this school alone the teachers will be lost without their guidance, so they're back for another year.

Walkthroughs are just something all teachers have to deal with at one time or another. The process can be upsetting, time consuming, and demanding - all for what amounts to little more than a dog and pony show. That's probably because those groups doing the walkthroughs didn't have a sound plan to revolutionize teaching on campus. Those groups didn't insist that every teacher teach the same exact thing, the same exact way, with the same exact materials, to completely different students - at the same exact time. That's it. That's the plan that will ensure students are successful in their academic careers.

In theory I can see how some might delude themselves into thinking this makes sense. They're probably the same people who are about my age who grew up watching Pink Floyd's The Wall. The scene with the children marching in step and with featureless faces perfectly represents children in any classroom. They make look different, come from different backgrounds and cultures, but please, essentially they are all the same inside and out.

The way I understand it, this group feels that the teachers on the grade level should collaborate for every lesson of every day. They should share ideas, come to a consensus of the best ideas for each and every lesson, and then make sure that each teacher has the same exact charts, posters, handouts, etc., for the students' use. This collaborative process should in theory provide the best possible instruction for all students. There's just a few "snags" that seem almost too minor to speak of. But I will.

First off the teachers need time to collaborate. If this is a democratic process in which the team needs to decide how everyone is going to teach every lesson there needs to be quite a big chunk of time throughout the week for this to take place. Not to mention the time it takes for the team to produce the same materials to teach the lessons. The district does provide one minimum day per week, which allows the teachers time to get together for collaboration, but there's two problems. It isn't enough time, and often times the district uses those days to send them out for trainings. This means the teachers are expected to donate time of their own to meet the demands of this group doing the walkthrough.

The other issues are the realities of individual classes. Some are GATE clusters, some are SEI, some higher performing, some lower. It was just a few short years ago that I was in a credential program. Every other word in each class was differentiation. I can remember being told that any good teacher needed to differentiate instruction to meet the needs of the students. They were wrong. I tried it. I spent hours and hours each week fine tuning my lessons so that I could meet the needs of my students to either challenge them or allow them to feel successful. I became resentful of how much time it took, but all the while I felt it was necessary to be a good teacher. I'm sickened by the number of hours I wasted doing all that. But as sick as I am at the thought of that, I'm even more upset by the attitude of my wife and her fellow teachers. They aren't embracing this great opportunity this group has given them. They just don't see things my way even when I've imagined some scenarios and described them to my wife. She just doesn't see things my way. It's a shame. I picture her in her class just as the walkthrough group enters the classroom.

Doo, doo, do. Doo, doo, do. Doo, doo, do. Wavy lines, wavy lines, wavy lines (ala Wayne's World fade out).

The group walks in and sees all the students silent and sitting upright with their hands clasped on their desk ( Hey, it's my fantasy. It could happen). My wife's classroom has been carefully set up to appear just as every other teacher's classroom on her grade level. Careful measurements have been taken and verified by no less than three contractors that her focus wall is exactly the same as in every other class. By the doorway is a copy of the certificate of conformance signed by all three contractors verifying this. The originals will be kept at city hall.

My wife is at the front of her class reciting the lesson that has been carefully scripted by her team. The group watches her and her students as she presents the lesson. They expect her to be nervous because she knows they are watching her to make sure she is doing everything exactly as every other teacher on her grade level, but she's not even the tiniest bit nervous. This is the easiest teaching she's ever done. As she recites the lesson and comes to the end of the first page of the script she pulls out her Nextel phone and presses the push to talk button. "I'm done with page 1. Copy." In a moment there are a series of beeps and over the phone she hears her coworkers respond one by one, "Done." My wife then says, "Turn to page two in three, two, one...Begin! Over." She then continues with the rest of the lesson in the same fashion.

At one point she hits a snag. One of her students raises a hand and asks a question. My wife is unable to answer his question because doing so would not only throw off her schedule, but it might also lead her to clarifying something that is not scripted and thus means she is no longer compliant with the rest of her team. She can't risk that with this group watching her. Easy fix. My wife pulls out the phone and presses the button. "Wait a minute. Everyone stop. One of my students has a question." With all four teachers on their Nextel phones there is then a five minute discussion as to how best to answer this question. Eventually they have a consensus that will keep everyone in check. From one of the other teachers she hears "Yes, each of us has found one kid in our class who does need to use the restroom too. Let's send them and give them two minutes to be back. Set your watches on my mark....Mark! Send your students to the restroom in three, two, one...Go!" The classrooms sits in silence for two minutes. Upon the students' return there is one more short conversation through the cell phones to synchronize instruction before resuming the day's teaching.

My wife and her team don't see how this benefits them at all, but I think they're just looking at this the wrong way. By following the letter of the walkthrough group's law they no longer have to differentiate instruction. And if they don't have to do that then why do all of them even have to plan. They can pick one team member either by democracy or by force to create the week's lessons and materials and dispense them to all the teachers. For the other three teachers this will completely free up their evenings and weekends. In fact, this is also a great way to get around the budget cuts the districts are facing. Sure they could get rid of useless walkthroughs, but they can't. That would affect people at the district level. No, instead, this district could get rid of three of the teachers on her grade level, keeping only one certified teacher, and then hire three people off the streets with the qualification of having spent time in a school at some point in their lives, to teach the other three class. The one certificated teacher can come up with the lesson plans and the other three just read the script. If there's a problem they have the push to talk feature on their cell phones. No problem.

The general public is right. Teaching is easy - when you have the right plan.

11 Comments

No more roast beast
by: Hifiman, 12-27-2009

I find it funny how my perception and attitude towards Christmas has evolved over the years. As a child I remember each day during the week before Christmas being at least twice as long as any other day during the year. My mind was always full of the wildest Christmas fantasies I could imagine. Starting on Thanksgiving morning and continuing every Sunday until Christmas I would anxiously await the morning paper so I could look at all the sales ads for toys. This was back in the day when Toys R Us actually had toys that appealed to kids, and yes, I was a Toys R Us kid. I spent hours looking at all the pictures and imagining what I would do if I had all the toys. I actually knew what I would do - break them. I just kind of had a knack for that sort of thing. I remember one year my brother showed up at the door with a big gift. I was a HUGE aircraft carrier that you could launch a plane off of on fishing line and then it would turn around and you would guide it back on deck. That was the kind of toy that was beyond my wildest dreams. I knew better than to dream of it because there was no way I was getting that. It was just too cool. I remember excitedly opening it and my brother realized it was made of Styrofoam. He told me it wouldn't last and he would take it back and I could pick out something else. I insisted it was fine and also insisted I could put it together by myself too. I broke the plane putting it together. I never even got to play with it once as it was intended to be played with. I spent years hiding it from everyone so no one would know I broke it.

My parents didn't have much money. I was never going to get but the smallest fraction of all the toys that I imagined, but that was okay. I was always happy with what I received and I don't ever remember being disappointed. Truth be told I think dreaming of toys is more satisfying than the toys themselves. As an adult I still find this to be true for myself.

As a teenager I found Christmas to be more of a nuisance than anything else. Long gone were the days where I eagerly anticipated Christmas morning. Christmas, and the whole holiday season for that matter, was nothing more than aggravation because the world seemed to just stop on the day of the holidays themselves. Everyone I knew was busy having fun with their families and doing their own thing. The streets were empty and nearly every store was closed. This was back before cable TV (at least in my house) so I didn't even have the TV to fall back on. It wasn't until I met my wife that Christmas took on new meaning for me. It was nice to be part of something new, but it was so foreign to me that I felt really uncomfortable being a part of it. It just didn't feel natural.

My wife's family is large. We would gather at her parent's house late morning and begin the hours-long session of opening presents one at a time so everyone could gasp as they saw every new pair of socks, gloves, and other less useful items. My FIL had a video camera that he would bring out and follow everyone around the house with. This was back in the day when video cameras were the size of Beagles and weighed twice as much. Everyone fussed because none of us wanted to be on camera. One of my SILs fussed the most. She really hated the intrusion. My FIL would tape for a while and then want everyone to gather around the TV so we could all see what he taped. Why would we want to do this? We had just lived the experience moments ago and none of us were yet old enough that we felt any risk of soon forgetting those experiences. If all this wasn't bad enough my FIL couldn't hold the camera still to save his life. I'd get motion sickness from the video.

Eventually the whole family would gather around the table and hold hands while a prayer was said. I hated that part. I didn't want to hold hands with anyone. I rarely even want to hold hands with my wife (yes, I know that's bad). It was always my luck to hold hands with either someone every old and frail, or some little kid. During the prayer all I could think about was whether or not a little old lady's hand would break or her skin would come off. If I was holding hand with a kid all I could imagine was all the gross things this kid handled right before coming to the table.

The dinner itself was always much more formal than I was used to. The food offerings were much more plentiful and diverse than anything I had previously experienced. During the meal there would be several references to the "roast beast" we were eating, which was always followed by several chuckles. As I've mentioned before this was always one of the more irritating things about the holiday. Maybe it was amusing once. Possibly it was amusing two holidays in a row because someone here and there might have forgotten it, but after that move on. People have heard it. Get some new material already.

I spent many holidays getting irritated at one thing or another. I can remember telling myself that if I hear the roast beast reference again I might truly lose my cool and have a total hissy fit right in the middle of the table. But I'm trying to turn a corner. I'm trying to be a better person.

This year the gathering was much the same as it had been in all the years past. There were a few changes here and there. This year the opening of gifts was so much less stressful. The part of the family that lives in town had actually opened many gifts at my MIL house on Wednesday during family dinner. We had also done a name drawing to help people save money this year too. The gift-giving session was very quick and stress-free when compared to all the other years. I loved it.

At the dinner meal there was a prayer said by my MIL as we stood around the perimeter of the table. No one was asked to hold hands. We actually stopped doing that years ago, but it's so nice to see no one insisting on bringing that tradition back. Once again we had the roast beef that I look forward to all year. It was particularly good this year in spite of an almost endless debate about the cooking of the roast. My BIL wanted to take it out of the oven while it was at 129 degrees in the center. My SIL (not his wife) said that she wanted it in the oven until it reached 135 degrees. It was funny actually. There were some people siding with my BIL that it was okay to take it out and let it rest, and there were one or two siding with my SIL to keep it in there. I was good. I didn't say a thing, but I wanted to. I really wanted to tell people to shut up and leave it in there because my SIL is a good cook. She makes some really good meals. She knows what she's doing and if she says leave it, leave it. They finally settled on 132 degrees. It was rarer than most would like, but I like rare meat. But the most disappointing thing was that for two years in a row no one called it roast beast and then laugh as if they had said the most amusing thing. I really do hate when it's said, but I've discovered I really do miss it. I have come to enjoy moment when I get to roll my eyes and mutter a sentence or two of something putting down the person who said it - again. I realized that my Christmas tradition is making fun of other people. If it's not said next year I'm very fearful that I will be the one to call it roast beast and then laugh as if I've said something very witty. I desperately hope it doesn't come to that.

After the meal people were sitting in various areas around the house just hanging out and talking. My BIL received a new camera from his wife for Christmas. She actually gave it to him well before Christmas, enough time for the newness to have been worn off, but no, this guy was taking a hundred pictures every minute. I mean honestly, how many pictures do you need of someone sitting on the sofa? One is okay. Two is fine if you're worried that the first one didn't come out. But after fifty pictures of the same person let's face it, you're just being an ass. After a while he must've figured out he wasn't being intrusive enough and switched it to video mode. It was funny to watch him trying to covertly take the videos, but he was about as subtle as herpes with only half the fun. Eventually he just picked it up and pointed it everywhere to catch people on video. I'm telling you I was there, there were absolutely no conversations taking place that were worthy of being memorialized on video. I spent a lot of time trying to figure out ways I could quickly break his camera.

At one point he still must've thought that some of us still didn't know he had a new camera so he and my SIL were being a bit silly by taking pictures of each other as they sat across from each other. Wonderful. Take all the pictures you want, but turn off the f - ing flash so I'm not blinded every ten seconds while you play!

I spent the rest of the day imagining not only how to break his camera, but break it into small pieces.

After several people left I was thinking it was about time to go, but I didn't make the move. Eventually my BIL said he wanted to hook his camera up to the TV so we could all watch the videos he took earlier. I thought to myself it doesn't seem all the long ago when my SIL hated videos and anything to do with television. She had the tiniest TV that was hidden inside a cabinet so visitors wouldn't suspect she owned one. Now she was encouraging her husband to show us his videos on their plasma TV. That's when I decided it was time to call it day. As I was winding down at home I entertained myself by thinking of not only smashing his camera, but by also imagining how much of it I could shove down his various orrifices. But then I realized I don't want to break his camera. I want him to keep it. I want my SIL and the rest of the family to laugh when she says roast beast too. I guess my favorite holiday tradition is making fun of the family and their quirks. It's all I have since I have no quirks of my own.

3 Comments

'Twas the Day Before Christmas Vacation
by: Hifiman, 12-20-2009

'Twas the day before Christmas vacation, when all through the campus
Not a student was misbehaving, not even that big bully, Augustus;
The benchmark test scores were displayed on the data wall with great care,
In hopes of appeasing the principal should she sneak up and dare;
The children were soon threatened to stay snug in their seats,
While visions of the afternoon’s class party made their hearts skip a beat;
And Mrs. Garcia on her third dose of Haldol, and I on Tylenol,
Had determined that we just would not lose control,
When out on the quad arose such a clatter,
I sprang from hiding behind my desk to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew in a huff,
Tore open the blinds and moved half a year’s worth of stuff.
The sun was blinding and made me remember why I hate the morning
My eyes tried to adjust to glare of the playground glowing,
When, what to my disbelieving eyes should appear,
But an entire class of third graders acting anything but dear,
With a brand new teacher, obviously shaken and without glee,
I knew in a moment that b-!-tch started her class party too early.
More rapid than greyhounds the lot of them came,
One leader amongst them, crazed on sugar, whistled, shouted, and called them by name;
“Now, Tyler! now, Jorge! now, Sally and Sandy!
On Cory, on Cynthia, on, Brandon and Randy!
To the south of the quad! to the end of the hall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!”
As dry leaves that before a hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle the sugar helps them reach to the sky,
So on to the cafeteria in search of juice boxes and cookies they flew,
With scraps of treats from the party, and secret stashes too.
And then with a startle I heard them at the door
Screaming, scratching, and pawing at the floor.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Bursting through the door their leader came in with a bound.
His clothes were in tatters, from his head to his toes,
From many battles for cupcakes with all worthy foes;
A bundle of candy he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes—how vacant they appeared! His dimples a quiver!
His cheeks were puffed full of food, his nose ran like a river!
His dry little mouth was puckered up like he ate something sour,
And he was such a mess and really could use a shower;
The stump of a Red Vine he held tight in his teeth,
And the candy necklace encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a rabid stare and a round little belly,
That shook as he demanded more candy or jelly.
He was chubby and plump, you know, an average American child,
I was scared when I saw him, he was way too wild;
A twitch of his eye and a turn of his head,
Soon let me know I had lots to dread;
He spoke not a word, but ran straight for our treats,
And filled his bag so nice and so neat,
And laying his finger inside his nose,
He pulled out a big booger and flung it as he rose;
He sprang to his group, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim as he ran out the door,
“Merry Christmas to all, let’s go raid room four!”

11 Comments

9 Things To Say During A Fight
by: Hifiman, 12-05-2009

My homepage is Yahoo.com. Every time I open my browser I get the latest news-worthy headlines, the weather forecast, and sometimes a little love advice. It's the love advice that I find the most amusing and worthy of my time to read, not because it's so helpful, but because it's so funny and so often way off the mark.

Some of these "informational" articles are written by women. They aren't the most insightful because they miss the male perspective entirely as they attempt either an educated guess at it or just plain throw anything out there that they think their female audience wants to read. Some of them are written by men, but these too are laughable because these guys are not only writing for women, but they're obviously trying to appeal to prospective dates by showing themselves to be somewhat Oprah-esque enlightened men of the new era. These guys are the worst. They betray men everywhere through misinformation. It's upsetting, but we understand why they do it - to score with women - so we leave them alone. But recently there was one article on Yahoo that really stood out to me. It was one of those articles aimed at helping men and women come together during a fight and understand what motivates the sexes and what each person needs from the other. Sort of a nine-step process. Yeah, that's one take on it. I have another.

You don't have to solve this - it helps me just to talk to you.

Okay, this one is as old as time itself. We all know the drill. Women just want someone to listen to them vent. Men on the other hand see it as a problem to be solved and usually do solve it before the woman gets the first sentence out. We get it. We really do. We just wish that you would get that if our only purpose in this is to listen we really would like it if you waited until the commercial break and then summarize it to give us the highlights. We can't and won't listen during a race, during the creation of one of George's elaborate lies on Seinfeld, or one of those amazing Victoria's Secret commercials where everything is expertly pushed up, pushed out, and on display. So if we don't have to solve it and we just have to listen, can you sum it up in a podcast for later review?

Please try to understand my point of view.

We've tried. Honestly we've tried. The whole reason we're having this argument for the tenth time this year is because we are completely unable to understand each other's point of view. Can't we just agree to disagree?

This is important to me. Please listen.

We already covered this. Apparently our role in this relationship is to listen. Well, to listen to you and to listen to the car to diagnose strange noises. Well, actually, to listen to you, to the car, and to catch mice no matter how many times we tell you we're scared of them too. They're just plain icky. We're here to listen to you. Can you listen to us too when we tell you we already listened to you during step one and two and have nothing new to add?

I can see my part in this.

Great! I couldn't agree more that this is largely your issue. You're the one to blame for this then. Can we move on now?
We're getting off the subject

Of course we're getting off the subject! If you listened to me you would already know that I'm unable to understand your point of view even though we've argued about it four separate times this weekend. Getting off the subject is the only way I'm going to regain some of my sanity and stew about the argument. Everyone needs a good stewing now and again. Everything's been said. Can we get off the subject now?

What are we really fighting about?

Are you kidding me? Who the hell knows what we're really fighting about. All I know is that if I really loved you I would automatically know what it is we're really fighting about. I'm not observant. Most mornings I wonder if I shampooed my hair in the shower I took just five minutes ago. If we don't know what we're really fighting about let's just bookmark this for a later date until someone has some insight they can share.

This isn't just my problem, it's our problem.

No! It's totally your problem. I don't have a problem leaving my clothes all over the floor in every room of the house. You are the one who has a problem with it. All we really want is for you to accept that you are the one with the problems.

Let's take a break for a few minutes.

Oh no you don't. I've seen Friends. Rachel dragged Ross through years of hell over that one. Do we need a break to cool down or is this just so you can collect your thoughts and begin the second attack?

I love you.

I don't get this one. The article says this serves as an immediate reminder of the bonds you share. The term "I love you" shouldn't be thrown around so haphazardly. That cheapens it. It's supposed to be said during sex. If we say we love you does that mean we're done and we can have sex?

It burdens me to think of all the countless relationships that could have been saved with this simple advice.

4 Comments

You never know who's watching you
by: Hifiman, 11-29-2009

I share things about myself here on PT that I would never dream of sharing with those close to me in my personal life. At least not in the detail I go into here. I just cannot allow myself to be completely open with those close to me. Why is that? It's a question that's bothered me for years. I haven't had a clue about it until now.

I have had lots of things at the forefront of my mind and I just couldn't resolve them on my own. First off I was feeling really badly about being out of work. In many ways my far-too-frequent visits to PT have made those feelings much worse at times. It's difficult to read about the trials and tribulations of those of you who still fight the good fight in the classroom and know I have nothing to share. I also have ongoing issues with some of my wife's family that I just can't get past no matter how hard I try. And then most recently it's the issues I have with my brother and that's the one that has been very difficult to resolve my feelings on. I've written about all these issues and several others here on PT over the last several years. In some ways it's been very therapeutic, but it hasn't accomplished what I had hoped. Four weeks ago - with feelings of great defeat - I decided to see a therapist. There, I said it. Something I thought I absolutely would not share here on PT.

The first visit was traumatic. It wasn't just the feeling of defeat weighing me down. I was really worried that the person I went to see would listen to me ramble on about the things I was experiencing, stop me in the middle of it, and then ask me why I was wasting her time with trivial nonsense. Luckily that wasn't the case.

Last week we talked in-depth about my concerns having to do with repeated patterns in my relationships with family that so far have not been repeated with my relationship with my wife and son, but I'm fearful that it will at some point. I have no idea how this creeps up and I have even less understanding of why it repeats and persists.

Eventually we got to talking about my family life growing up. I've written about a lot of that here, but I'm amazed at how much more there is. There are so many things that I can recall when I focus on them, but for the most part I ignore. I've had one of those "fuzzy" moments become a bit clearer recently. I haven't shared it with my therapist yet, but I will when I see her next. It all started with an episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm.

I love this show. I've been recording every episode since they've been replaying it from the beginning on HBO. I can't get enough of it. It's like reliving the Seinfeld days. With Seinfeld I always wished I could be more like Jerry, but no, I am way too close to George for comfort. With Curb Your Enthusiasm I feel at times like I'm watching myself when I see Larry David on the screen. The last episode I watched was called "The Massage," I think. David was getting a massage from a woman who asked him if he wanted her to "finish him off." He said yes, but had no idea what it really meant in that situation. He later finds out that his wife is going to see a psychic that she's seen in the past. He's fearful because the last time she saw this psychic the person said he'd score a hole in one in golf and he did. He was scared the psychic would tell her about this massage. That's when it hit me. I lived that same constant fear throughout my childhood. I just never really thought about it until that episode.

My mom loved psychics. She would see one from time-to-time. I had a cousin who liked them too. This cousin and my mom would often go see one together. I have no idea what she got out of it, but she loved everything to do with the spiritual world. When I was young I would often see her take out a yellow legal pad and a pen and begin writing. Whenever she started she insisted on complete silence. Eventually I learned that this was something called "automatic writing." The idea was that you would hold a pen and a ghost, spirit, or whatever name suits you, would take control of the person's hand and communicate through writing. I was very young. I didn't know any better and I watched her with amusement.

As I got a bit older she started talking about someone named Henry. I never saw Henry, but she knew him quite well. Henry was a spirit that stayed alongside her that she spoke to. Henry knew everything. Well, almost everything. He couldn't tell her about the latest stock to invest in and get rich. He couldn't pick the latest lotto numbers or tell her the winning horse to bet on, but Henry could tell her everything about me. When I was questioned about something I did I was always told to tell her everything or else Henry would. When I went to school I was to do my best because throughout the day Henry would give her updates and she'd be waiting for me if she didn't like what she heard. Having Henry around meant a complete lack of privacy. I always lived in fear of what Henry would tell her. I had to not only try to keep things private from her, but I had to find a way to keep things from Henry as well.

As a kid you don't question the absurdity of things like this. You just accept it. Kids are easy that way. Henry was a great parental assistant. He didn't need any room and board, he didn't earn any wages, and he was tireless in his observation of my day-to-day life. In reality I had as much privacy as probably any other kid. But in my mind privacy wasn't something afforded to me. I didn't break the bonds Henry had placed on me until sometime during my sixteenth year of life. That year my dad had died. I wasn't close to him and he wasn't close to me, but still it's a major event in a young person's life. Not long after he died my mom picked up the familiar pad and pen and began writing. I thought nothing of it. It was just Henry writing away. But no, not this time. When she was done my mom had told me it was my dad writing to her. I remember looking at what was written. I cannot, for the life of me remember what was written or even the tone of the correspondence. But I vividly remembered what was missing. I was about a paragraph in length and there was not one mention of me at all. How could that be?

It was actually a very liberating moment in my life. One of two things happened. Either my father actually did communicate to my mom that day and I was of such insignificance in his life even though I was in the room at the moment that he didn't feel the need to say so much as hello. Or, my mom was locked into some skewed reality within the depths of her mind and in those depths she couldn't find room on the paper for a word or two of encouragement to her son. I instantly chose the latter explanation. It seemed the most logical and with that Henry's grip on my life ceased that very moment.

In the following months I made it clear that I wanted nothing to do with any discussion of Henry and after a short time he was no longer mentioned to me. I don't think I truly thought about him one time until that episode of CYE. It's starting to make sense to me why some aspects of my life I desperately try to keep private from those near me. I'm also starting to understand why I react so negatively when my wife insists on watching shows like The Locator.

In these last few days I've come to realize that there's some part of Henry that has been following me all these many years even though I was not aware of him in the slightest. I know he doesn't exist and never did, but he has a lingering hold on me that I have to break free of.

9 Comments

The Apple Fell Far From the Tree
by: Hifiman, 11-05-2009

My son's report card came in the mail yesterday. They're always addressed to my wife. I was curious, but I never open them. It's not because they're addressed to her. It's because they come in those damn perforated mailings where you have to tear the sides off and then somehow wedge a finger inside the top and slide it across to open it. I'm done risking paper cuts so I leave it for my wife. She opened it when she came home. It was a very nice surprise.

Since leaving elementary our son hasn't had stellar grades. They're not all that bad, but usually one or two leave us asking "What happened?" which is usually followed by "What are you going to do to fix this so it doesn't happen next term?"

His issue has largely been organization. I wish I could help him, but I'm very unorganized. All I can do is tell him to get organized. I can't really offer specific advice. He's also had the occasional comment that the grade suffered because of talking. I have no idea where he gets that.

We've tried to be supportive with his studies. We let him know we have expectations, but I don't think we're putting too much pressure on him. I hope he agrees. Last year was his freshman year. I remember how hard it was for me to make the adjustment. My first semester grades were straight D's. Mostly because some teachers took pity on me and boosted me up from an F. My sophomore year is where I hit my stride. I earned a few C's. I had hoped my son would do the same. When he enrolled in high school he was accepted into the IB program, which doesn't actually start until his junior year for him. I had high hopes, but if he still struggled this year I was likely going to suggest to him that maybe he needed to rethink his goals for his junior year. It's not that I don't believe in him. I do. I just don't want him in a situation that's too demanding. He doesn't need to be a sprinter as long as he makes it to the finish line.

Yesterday his grades were really great. He tells me they are actually better than what is posted because most of his classes are 5pt. classes, but the system calculates them as 4pt. I don't know what's going on and I won't pretend to understand it. I do believe him because what he came up with is more in line with the GPA listed on the report. He calculated what his grades actually are, or will be, and shared that with us. Great, but in all reality I'm very happy with what we saw reported yesterday. We also noticed a lack of comments about talking in class. Very nice. My wife asked him what accounted for the change. She wondered if it had anything to do with him getting his driving license. I got the sense that there was some deal with grades and driving. I don't know. I admit it, most of the time I say yes to things with only one ear open and the other one concentrating on TV. I have no idea about most of the deals being made or upcoming events. Our son said no. He said he's become very interested in attending UCLA (the school his grandmother attended) and knows he needs a high GPA. The kid's self motivated to do this. How did this happen? He couldn't have gotten this from us.

My wife and I didn't know each other during our high school years, but we had the same experiences. We hated high school. We hated the classes. And most of all we were just biding our time until we were free and then we took the shortest path into the workforce. It wasn't until much later in life that we realized we skipped a very important step in our lives and went back to school. It looks like our son will not be following our example. I'm very proud of him and I hope this continues. Still, I admit there were many days where I dreamed of him getting a job at the corner Cold Stone and getting me free ice cream. I guess I'll have to settle on him sending me Cold Stone gift cards from LA.

4 Comments

When will they ever listen?
by: Hifiman, 11-11-2009

Quite a while back I had an unexpected interview at one of the high schools in my old district. I wasn't even prepared in the slightest. I met with the principal and he asked all the usual questions one would expect, but there was one question that stopped me dead in my tracks. "What would your classroom look like?" I can easily answer that for elementary, but high school? The last time I was in a high school classroom was when I was still attending high school. I remember there being four walls and at least one door, some chairs, and a desk for the teacher, but that's it. I had no idea what a present day high school classroom should look like so my answer was pretty much "Uhhhhh....." Fortunately my wife knows someone who teaches high school and helped me set up a opportunity to visit and observe. I did that just a couple of days ago. I smiled the whole time. I just couldn't help it.

I arrived on campus just a bit before the morning bell. The grounds were packed with herds of kids. The main herd was happily grazing out by the cafeteria. Smaller groups had broken off and were lazily meandering about. I found the room I needed and met with the teacher a few moments. He was great. He asked me what I needed from him for my visit. I told him about that question I was asked and my inability to answer it. He took a few moments to show me around his classroom and then took me to see two other classrooms to compare. That was really great. His room looked just fine to me and realistically was right around my limits of Martha Stewartness. The next classroom was really nice too. Lots of posters arranged thematically all around the classroom. A very nice environment. The third classroom was obviously taught by the resident overachiever. I actually don't mean that in a bad way. It's just that I had no idea a high school classroom would look anything like that. It definitely had an elementary feel in that the walls were completely covered in information. If there's an award for classroom decor this example was definitely in the running.

Eventually we made it back to the original classroom and I took a seat off to the side to observe the students come in and begin their day. First off it was a very small class. I kept waiting for the late stragglers to file it, but they never came. Fourteen students was it. They seemed like a really great group and very respectful. On that day they were to start their first experiment. The teacher printed out the instructions for them, plus a log to record the information from their experiments. After a lengthy review of the procedure he asked the students to put on aprons and grab a pair of goggles. It was interesting to watch them do this. The girls grabbed their aprons, put them on, and tied them closed behind their backs. The boys did the same except half of them immediately found a girl to tie their aprons for them. The other half gave it a try first, but then they too sought out a girl to do this for them. One boy opted to do it himself and made a nice knot.

Watching the students do the experiments was entertaining. It was obvious they either didn't listen to or read the instructions before they started or they chose not to follow the instructions at all. The teacher kept stressing the safety points he needed them to follow, but again, they had their own ideas. They weren't defiant, just kids.

Eventually the class was winding down and the students had to clean up. They did a great job putting their goggles away in the cabinet. The girls took off their aprons, quickly folded them and put them back in the box. All of the boys struggled with the folding. One boy was having a tough time getting his to fold neatly. Another boy looked at him and told him it's just like folding a shirt. The one trying to fold the apron told the other boy he didn't know how to fold a shirt. I sympathized. I never figured out how to fold a shirt either. Another boy had a great idea. He told him to just look at the crease marks still on the apron and fold it along those lines. I agree it sounded like a great idea, but obviously that kid has never tried to fold a road map. Oh, and the kid who made a knot with the string of his apron - he found a girl to help him get the knot out. I thought it was all so humorous. Not once did any girl complain and tell a boy to do it himself. They just did it without thinking. I would love to know who these girls are and find them in about ten years to ask the ones who are married how much they still loved doing all the incidentals for their husbands.

The class ended and soon the next one filed it. This time it was no small class. The students never seemed to stop filing in. I didn't stay the whole class period with this group, but my smile never wavered during the time I was there. The teacher was doing a great job of telling them what to expect during class that day as well as touch base with them regarding some work that would be due soon. After going through all this information he was about to begin his lecture when he was stopped by a few raised hands. The questions were all about the information he had just given them in great detail. The students didn't listen and he had to backtrack and go over the information again, but not before the interruption of the pledge and the morning announcements. The students stood up for the pledge and recited it in voices that were barely audible. By this time in their lives they are done with pledge and have little tolerance for it. I hate it too. I'm sorry if that says something bad about me, but honestly I don't like taking time out in the morning for the pledge. When the announcements followed, the students not only tuned it out, but used that time to continue their earlier conversations with each other. I don't doubt many of them will miss some deadline or opportunity because they didn't hear the information in the morning announcements, but I'm right there with them. I dislike the interruptions of morning announcements too.

I quietly left the classroom and went back to my car. On the way home I thought about what I had seen. I understand it was a very brief snippet of two classes on one campus, but it didn't seem all that dissimilar from elementary. Yes, the students can hold their bladders longer. Yes, they are more independent. But just like an elementary class they don't listen to directions, they insist their way is better, and they still leave papers laying everywhere with no names on them.

During the drive home I thought about my future answer to anyone asking me what my secondary classroom might look like. Easy. It's essentially going to look like my fifth grade classroom looked like these last two years, but with a little less Sponge Bob presence.

15 Comments

Living like Seinfeld
by: Hifiman, 10-17-2009

It's starting to cool down as the year draws to an end. This year, like most years, I'm glad to see summer coming to an end. I always enjoy it in the beginning, but eventually the heat wears me down and I'm glad to see it go. This year I have one lasting image of summer. There's an elderly man who lives somewhere in my neighborhood. I don't know where, but I've often seen him out exercising during the heat of late morning. If I had to guess I would say he's around his early seventies. He's quite hunchbacked, wears a heavy bandage around his right knee for support, and has what looks to be an excruciating gait as he does his version of power walking, which is amazingly fast. I'm in awe of this man. Getting around is obviously not easy for him, but he takes his exercise routine seriously. He's out there working up a sweat long after I've decided it's time to stay inside and turn up the A/C. Every time I see him I wonder to myself what motivates him. I like to imagine myself working up the nerve to get out of my car and walk with him for a bit to ask him. I won't. I just don't do that sort of thing. Even worse, I wouldn't be able to keep up with him. The image of this man has almost constantly been on my mind this last weekend when I went on a short road trip with my mother-in-law.

We started out very early Saturday morning. I was really looking forward to this trip. It was a chance to get out of the house, a chance to do one of my favorite things - drive, it was a chance to visit some relatives who are being challenged in life, and it was a great opportunity to spend some time with my mother-in-law. She's the best navigator. No GPS has anything on her. It was a nice drive to Novato to visit my wife's aunt. Her husband died a few years back and we constantly worry about her though she does have plenty of family that live close by.

It was actually a pretty comical first day. I truly felt as if I was living a Seinfeld episode. I expected Novato to be quite cool, but no, it was nearly as hot as home. We went inside her home and found it to be quite hot as well. She kept commenting about the heat and every once in a while she would sort of think out loud as she wondered if she should turn on the A/C. Each time I kept thinking to myself, "Yes, oh God yes, turn it up and smash the thermostat with a hammer so it can't be turned off!" After a while one of her daughters arrived with her family. It was then that I realized what the problem was. She didn't know how to turn on the A/C. I thought that was so damn funny and from that point on I truly felt as if I was living a Seinfeld episode. In fact I remembered when my wife and I were first married we had come to visit. We spent the evening in one of her daughters' rooms, which had a futon. Not a pull out sofa bed, but close enough. I was hoping the same bed was up there in the room waiting for me so I could complain about it and throw my back out just like Elaine, but no, it turns out the room had regular bed. Still, I tried to complain as best I could. Eventually the A/C was turned on by her son-in-law and I caught a glimpse of the thermostat. I believe it was the same model used by the Flintstones.

Our time with her was nice, but a bit unsettling. There's such sadness in her eyes. In years past she had such a liveliness and a great sense of humor. She could make any room light up. That's gone now. She still forces a smile here and there, but it's not the same. It's so sad. I wish she could move on and find that same person within her that I miss so much. I have a need to find a way to fix that, but I know I can't.

After our time with her our next stop was to visit my mother-in-law's brother and his wife in Sacramento. I knew this visit might be rough, but I had high hopes. Within moments of walking in the door I realized this was worse than I had expected. Her brother's wife has a mass slowly growing in her brain. It's assumed it's not cancerous, but she is suffering from dementia, which I assume is a result of the tumor, but I'm told her family has a history of it. I was told her long-term memory was intact and that only her short-term memory was affected. No. She did recognize us, and seemed to know who we were talking about when we mentioned other people in the family, but she didn't really recall any specific things from the past. And yes, her short-term memory was quite short. Her husband seemed just fine at first. He was much thinner that when I had seen him last, but other than that he seemed the same. He even still had that funny twinkle in his eye that always tips you off that he's scheming about something, looking for his next opportunity to make a joke and stir up some trouble. I always thought we would have made a great team in that respect. We just needed time and a plan and we would've wreaked havoc on the family.

I had never been to the house they live in now. It was huge and resided in a very upscale gated community. He gave me a brief tour and asked if I was a much of a drinker. "No, not really." Still, he showed me the bar area. Bottles and bottles of everything one could imagine. He also made sure to point out the top shelf stuff off to the side and made sure I knew I could have whatever I wanted. He told me he couldn't drink any more because of his health. Too bad (well, maybe not). This guy used to travel with a custom case that held a bottle of gin, tonic, glass, etc. Soon afterward we all went out to have lunch. He makes breakfast for the two of them every morning and then they go out to eat lunch and dinner every day. Lunch is at Mimi's Cafe, and dinner is at Denny's. We headed off for Mimi's. He saw my car parked out front and asked what it was. When I told him he then asked if it was a four wheel drive because Nissan was promoting something with four wheel drive. "No, just two wheel drive. Maybe you're talking about their new GT-R."

We had a nice meal at Mimi's. He and his wife share the same salmon meal every day. It's kind of cute. It turns out they are known at this restaurant and have two servers that they prefer to have wait on them. Neither were there that day. He was upset. I'm sure they were too. It was at the end of the meal where we got the sense that something was going on with him as well. He left a HUGE tip even though he didn't like the server. There was some discussion about the tip between him and my MIL, but it was obvious he didn't have quite the grasp on tipping that he did in his younger days. I really, really hope these other waiters he likes don't let him do this. Surely they have to realize something's wrong there.

On the way back home we passed my car again and then had the same conversation verbatim. We went inside their home and got comfortable. It seemed like thirty minutes later we were off to Denny's for dinner. I should be going into more detail here, but for some reason I can't bring myself to do it at this time, but trust me, there were a few more Seinfeld episodes between Jerry and his parents that I was living that day. This time I actually had a pull out sofa bed that I was to be using. Once again I just knew this would make me miserable and be a great addition to the story, but no, it was incredibly comfortable.

After our dinner out we were all relaxing in their home theater watching Two and a Half Men. My MIL hated it of course. I hate the show too, but I always watch it (I can't explain that one). He had a lot of equipment that a son had set up for him. Everything had labels on it. "Don't touch this!" "Keep it set on input 5." "Leave this on!" I just had to laugh. I bet it took his son months to finally figure out everything they were doing wrong to the equipment and make a label for it. I thought of my own MIL with that one.

About every five minutes his wife would ask me the same questions. "What do you usually watch on Monday's?" "Please turn it to whatever you like." "Do you like this show?" It went on and on. She never remembered asking the questions nor my answers. It was very sad though it was very interesting though to think about what was going on in her mind. This is a woman famous for being a great hostess. She went above and beyond to make anyone feel welcome. Somewhere in her brain she was still driven to do that. She still knew the right questions to ask. Later her husband told me that she knew she had lost her memory (It's true. She did mention her memory loss constantly). He also said she wanted to die because of it. That was rough to hear.

That night I had trouble sleeping. I was a nurse for many years. I had been around countless people who were living a life the two of them are now living. I didn't react to it. It was just one of those things some people go through. You do your job, you make a joke or two, and you move on to the next patient. At the end of the day you go home and forget they exist until you see them the next day. But now it was different. These are two incredible people going through the last challenges life has to offer. I finally did go to sleep. When I woke up in the morning and took the sheets off the bed and put the sofa back together I started looking around in the room I was in. It was her brother's office. It's the place where he spends much of his day as he sends out an endless stream of political emails to everyone who will accept them. For the others he sends them by mail. The place was littered with the same labels to remind him which button to press and which to leave alone. I desperately wanted to switch several of them around. In his younger days I know he would have appreciated the prank.

The drive back home seemed somber though maybe it was just me. I thought of my MIL's brother and his wife, I thought of my wife's aunt, and I thought of that unknown man walking around the neighborhood. Life can be cruel and unforgiving. But people still move forward and move on in spite of their struggles. Some redefine themselves, while others wait for life to happen. I think there's a lesson in that. A lesson and strength.

7 Comments

How do you fix the unfixable?
by: Hifiman, 10-06-2009

It's been a frustrating few months. For the most part I'm doing okay with my feelings about being out of work. Some days my outlook is positive, while other days I feel very depressed about my situation. Lately I've been letting the depression take a hold more and more. I just don't know what to do with myself. I don't want to sub. It would just make me feel worse not having my own class. I have been trying to do what I can to get a single subject certification to make myself more marketable, but I'm not sure of the time frame when that will be of benefit to me. I'm at the point where I'm seriously considering looking for work outside of teaching. I don't intend for it to be permanent, but if I luck into something good and stable I may have to reevaluate things. Until I make my next move I have to keep myself from going stir crazy at home. I volunteered to drive my MIL out to the Bay Area this weekend for four days. There are some family members out there that aren't doing well. I love that part of the country. I'm putting my hopes on its power to energize me a bit.

If the job issue wasn't bad enough my thoughts have been consumed with my feelings about myself and the kind of person I am vs. the one I want to be. I really feel alone these days. More than I ever have in my life. I don't like it, but I feel powerless to change it.

I've written about my family issues growing up. It's those problems of childhood that still interfere with my relationships with others. I can see the connections so clearly. I understand they have a far reaching effect on my life, but I can't break them. These days I keep thinking about friends and family. I don't like what that reveals.

As far back as I can remember I've only sought the companionship of one friend. As a child I was quite shy. My parents moved just about every year so that meant a new school every year as well. I hated it. I would keep to myself as I desperately looked for one friend to cling onto. I would find someone and immediately be satisfied. I never bothered to broaden my circle of friends. Eventually my family would move and I would start the process all over again. It wasn't until middle school that I stayed within the same school district long enough to attend just one middle school and one high school. Over time I had a small circle of friends who always hung out together. Still, I wasn't the most social. Too many of the things they did I was not allowed to participate in. By the time I was on my own I had gotten very used to basically staying close to my apt. and doing my own thing. The freedom of adulthood was largely lost on me.

Of those friends I was really only close to two. They were twins. I started to separate from them over the years because that whole group seemed to really only exist to drink. I tried my hardest, but I never developed into much of a drinker so I really didn't have much in common with them. Over time I started to drift apart from my two friends. One had married and started his own family. That's okay, I understood. It took a few years for him to come around again, but we were never really able to reconnect again.

The other brother I saw fairly regularly. I helped him get a job with the company I worked for. We didn't hang out after work, we just caught up on things during work when I visited the facility. At the time he was living with a woman and had a child with her. Every time I saw him I asked him when he would get married. It never seemed to be on his list of priorities. Eventually I left that company and only saw him once in a while when I drove by his house. The last time I stopped to talk with him he was working on his car. Eventually he told me that he had gotten married a few months back. It really shocked me. I wondered why he didn't invite me to the wedding or at least tell me he was going to finally get married. It was then that I realized it was all my fault. There's no way around it. I'm a terrible friend. I started to analyze all the things friends do that I fall short on. The list it too long to mention here, but I'll say it starts with never having remembered when his birthday was and it just gets worse from there. I realized I was a bad friend, but during all those years I was completely oblivious to it even though it was now all so clear.

As an adult I have my wife and son. They are all I need, just like my elementary days. My wife wants to go hang out with people, but I hate hanging out with most people even though they are perfectly fine people that most would enjoy being with. I've become an adult who lives in solitude. I don't like it, but I can't change it. I'm also a person who can't forgive. I still have many issues with some of my wife's family. I try to let things go, but the slightest perceived attack from them inflames old wounds and the fury starts up again. I'm caught in a cycle that seems unlikely to end.

These past few days I've done something that doesn't sit well with me. The big issue between my wife's family and me is that they snooped on me on the internet. I detested that invasion of privacy and what was done with that information that was learned. Well, now I feel as if I've done the same though I'm not sure.

I've had lots of recent issues with my brother. They never seem to end with him, yet I keep going back for more. Recently he told me in a very childlike way that he would not contact me again if that's what I wanted. I told him fine and we hung up. The drama he's put me through has really been eating at me. Breaking off contact with him didn't make it go away either. A while back he told me about something his ex-wife had posted on an off-roading site they both belong to. I knew the site because he used to come over once in a while to use my computer to get on it. In any case his wife had mentioned him (only as her first husband) and referred to him as narcissistic. He was upset by that and called me to ask if I thought he was. It wasn't a conversation I wanted. I chickened out by telling him I didn't know the meaning of the word. Well, a few days ago I decided to go on that website and search for the word narcissistic. I found her post and subsequently found a link in her profile for her family's business. From there I dropped her an email to ask how she was doing. She responded and we had several back and forth emails about my brother. I found the things she told me so fascinating. Especially that she had contacted his 3rd wife previous to her. In one respect it made me feel lots better for feeling the way I feel toward him. So much so that I think I will do just fine by not pursuing any further contact with him. But still, I feel like I've done something wrong by seeking her out. I'll have to come to terms with that. And if that wasn't bad enough it's started a whole new cycle of self-doubt.

My mother, father, the brother I know (but never really knew), and the brother I've never met; we seem to have given new meaning to the term dysfunction. I know how to be a husband to my wife. I know how to be a father to my son, but I have no clue how to be anything to anyone else in any way that really matters. At work I think I'm very personable and likable, but that's limited to the workplace. I get in my car and my contact with others ends. I want to end a cycle that seemingly can't be stopped. I want answers as to why I'm the person I am. I've decided that perhaps the brother I've never met may have those answers. He knows a side to my story that I've only heard secondhand. I know that he lived in Tucson, AZ. My brother's ex-wife gave me his name, but so far I've been unsuccessful. I suppose it's pointless. In reality I'm not sure he will be able to say anything magical that will make all the pieces of the puzzle fit together and make sense, but at least it's something to do to end the boredom in the meantime.

17 Comments

I said what!?
by: Hifiman, 01-24-2010

So a few days ago I ran into a woman I worked with several years ago. She made a point of saying hello to me and I said hello back, but she's one of the last people on the planet I would ever want to see. So now she's in my head and I've got to get her out. So I'll write about it.

I don't remember the date, but it was probably eight to ten years ago. I split my time between two nearby facilities during the week. She worked at the one farthest away. At one point in time someone had the bright idea to bring these two facilities together for one huge staff meeting at the facility nearest my house. It was an uneventful meeting and was quickly over and everyone went home.

The next day I get a call from my boss who told me there was a problem and wanted to make sure I was alone in my office before proceeding. She then told me that someone had filed a sexual harassment complaint against me. I was shocked. She told me who filed it and I was even more confused. It was the woman I recently bumped into and at the time (even more so since) I had very limited contact with her.

So I learn that she complained to the center director of the facility she worked at. I knew the guy quite well. He was probably the most incompetent person on the planet. I knew that because he used to be my boss. In any case this person complained to him and he believed her without doing any investigating on his own (he was not only one of the dumbest people on the planet, he was the laziest too). He then passed the complaint on to my current boss. Essentially this complaint was based on hearsay. This woman had heard from someone else that I (simply meaning my first name, not actually me) had made some sort of statement that this woman must think I'm hot and I probably had a shot at her. I would NEVER say anything like that. It's just not possible for words like that to come out of my mouth, but there was a guy who worked at the facility closest to my house who not only would say that exact thing, his first name is the same as mine.

So essentially I had to do the investigating on this to clear myself since my boss lived and worked out of Arizona, and as I had already mentioned this woman's boss was incompetent. It was the easiest thing to resolve because I drove to that facility and asked the guy if he had said anything along those lines. He said of course he had and luckily shared that with the people who needed to hear it. So I was immediately off the hook, but still extremely pissed.

First, neither the woman or her boss apologized to me. She made an issue out of hearsay and he let her do it without so much as asking a question or two. I was also ticked at the woman who was my boss at the time. I greatly respected her, but she too didn't feel the need to insist someone validate this accusation before bringing it to my attention. I think if any of them had to go home to their spouse and tell that person that they were accused of sexual harassment they would have understood the importance of doing a little fact checking. And the worst part of all this? They guy who did make the comment got a free pass. It's not that I wanted him in trouble. I didn't. He was a friend. That's how I knew him well enough to know that a comment like that was just the thing he would say. No, once they realized it was him everything was just dropped. The woman who was so offended was suddenly no longer offended in the slightest. And since she was no longer offended no one else could be bothered with this any longer.

A while later I saw an SNL skit spoofing sexual harassment in the workplace. They'd show a regular (totally un-hot) guy asking the most mundane question to a woman and getting in trouble for it. Then they'd show a hot guy making the crudest remark to the same woman and her panties practically flew off.

Next time I'm at the store I have to remember, keep my head down.

14 Comments

The Holistic Approach to Education
by: Hifiman, 07-22-2009

School has been on my mind for quite a few days now. I'm still very, very low on the rehire list. I don't think it's looking good. I don't think the district thinks it looks good either. This year they locked me out of my email account within days of school ending. Curiously though they haven't locked me out of Data Director. I know it's too early, but still I keep logging in to see if the state tests scores have been entered yet. They haven't. But it's those scores that keep me thinking about school and my newly chosen profession as a teacher.

I like teaching. I haven't even begun to scratch the surface of becoming a good teacher so I still have lots of goals, lots of things I still want to do in teaching. But honestly, I'm getting weary of this profession. I still don't understand why a profession that is so important is so neglected and it's highly educated faculty seemingly dispensable. The failing American automotive industry seems to get more help and more concern than this nation's schools do. It doesn't make sense to me at all. Still, I do have hopes of sticking it out just a little while longer. I know that at some point I will be working in a new school with a new team of administrators and teachers to get acclimated to. I will need to learn, yet again, a new way of doing things. That's okay. I can do it, but can the school meet me halfway?

I want my new school to be a bit more realistic about education. I'm not just talking state testing and NCLB here. No, that's been discussed to death amongst those of us knowledgeable of its shortcomings, but unable to effect needed and realistic changes. I want to work in a school that truly caters to the children. I want a school that takes a more holistic approach to education.

One of issues that's been discussed a lot lately is the issue of junk food provided to students on campus. We all have our own take on this subject, but I think in theory most of us agree that students should eat a healthier diet. At the very least we shouldn't spoil their appetite with needless empty calories that will only temporarily fill their tummies and potentially keep them from finishing the one-pound bag of Hot Cheetos they bring from home each day. This is an important goal we should all take seriously because the day is not far off when schools will be held accountable for students' weight, health status, and dental visits, along with all their academic endeavors. I welcome the challenge. I know the parents have far too much to think about. Why don't we give them a hand.

As both a teacher and a sub I have had the opportunity to teach on many campuses. They each do things a bit differently, but for the most part they all roughly follow the same guidelines. Fear of litigation thinly disguised as student safety is the highest priority. Students aren't allowed to run on the cement or blacktop. They can't play dodge ball at recess without teacher supervision for fear that someone will get hurt. The same for soccer on a primarily Hispanic campus or basketball on a primarily African American campus. The fear is that someone will scrape a knee and need a Band-Aid.

Also gone are the days of the schoolyard pick by team captains for various games. We have to protect their delicate psyches from being the last one picked. I understand. It's much better to delay that inevitable life experience everyone must go through until they are an adult struggling to deal with it for the first time. Besides, don't adults always handle things better than children? In school we just file that under "SEP," or someone else's problem.

As teachers we always do our best to try and make sure no child is excluded. We are always on the lookout for the outcast or the one who is to shy too participate. We make sure children share even if we have to pry the object out of their hands - even if it takes two of us to do it. This is all fine and it does fit nicely under that umbrella of student health, but I think we can do so much more. Here's a few ideas I'm looking to see implemented by a forward-thinking school.

Testing. The mere whisper of the word strikes fear in the hearts of most students. It's not fair to them. They are too young to deal with such stress. Stress leads to serious health complications like heart disease, high blood pressure, metabolic syndrome, and weight gain, just to name a few. In fact aren't those the same reasons why we have cut out junk food from the schools? Yes, testing in all forms must stop.

The recent swine flu scare also pinpointed another health issue schools are facing. For the first time schools across the country were actually encouraging students to either go home or stay home if they were experiencing any flu-like symptoms. That was a welcomed change of focus from the previous expectations of perfect attendance by any means necessary to keep the maximum amount of money flowing into the districts. In my district it was very nice to see them spend the money to put hand sanitizer dispensers in every class for the students to play with. Just for giggles the custodian mounted mine right on top of one of my bulletin boards. Eh, we weren't really using that spelling list for language arts anyway. In any case, we finally realized that students are full of germs. Who knew? I bet people thought my constant coughing, fevers, and stuffed-up nose was from too much partying on the weekends because I had nothing better to do with my time. No, kids are full of germs. Have you ever seen the way they play with the toilets? No, they need to stay home and keep our schools germ-free.

Scissors are another area of frustration even in fifth grade. Half my class can cut out Mona Lisa's silhouette, while the rest are trying to decide which two fingers to place in the scissors. The previous year's class just thought they were fancy shanks. The point is that this is a skill some don't have. It makes them feel bad and it's stress inducing. It's got to go because I've already pointed out the effects of stress. The same can be said for any art project. Some students create something worthy of the Louvre, while others get upset because I thought their project was a pile of scraps and I threw it away. Nope, too much stress, gotta go.

P.E.? No, some are athletic, some are not. The ones that are athletic are risking injury from over exertion - stress. Not good. The ones who aren't athletic are often just discovering for the first time that there's a left and right side to their body - stress. Not on my watch. Another concern is the physical activity itself. This could unnecessarily cause students to gain a raging appetite and want to eat more. We have to restrict their calories. No, too risky. Let them sit in the classroom. No, wait. In the classroom we usually have poor ventilation. We don't get fresh air circulating. You know now that I think of it there have been studies done for air travel that shows people run a higher risk of illness on long flights because of the lack of proper ventilation. Absolutely not! I will not allow my students to put their health in jeopardy by sitting inside a class all day. I also recall that same study showed that travelers ran the risk of blood clots from lack of circulation from sitting too long. No way! We can't risk that either. Now that I think about it it's obvious that attending school is just too risky to student health. We all just need to stay home.

7 Comments

Why climb Nipple Mtn.? Because it’s there.
by: Hifiman, 08-08-2009

We just returned from a six day road trip with the three of us in my car as we caravanned with two friends. What an experience. In the end I learned to have a new appreciation for geography, street names, and clothing as a requirement. I also learned that I can exist without a TV and video games, but I still don’t know why I’d want to. And I’ve learned that life can be agony without the internet. Luckily our family is still intact after the trip and I think we are still friends with the other two we traveled with, but I did ditch them in Flagstaff this morning.

 Our preparations for the trip went off without a hitch, or so I thought. My wife packed her stuff earlier the previous day. Normally I would have packed at the same time, but I figured there was no need to take care of my stuff before the morning we were set to leave. I don’t take many clothes and it would literally only take me two minutes to pack, maybe another ten seconds if I decided to attempt to fold an item or two. Besides, I wasn’t sure which outfit I wanted to wear for the drive out. Should I wear my comfy off-white shirt that experienced a laundry integration incident many months ago and still looked dull, or my equally well-worn and very faded blue shirt with my denim shorts? So after my shower in the morning I went with the faded blue shirt and shorts. I then packed my side of the suitcase. I made sure to pack lots of underwear. I also packed enough socks too. I then threw caution to the wind and packed a pair of jeans and an extra pair of denim shorts, even though we all knew I was likely to just keep wearing the pair I had on. I was finished packing in record time. I even remembered to pack deodorant and toothbrush. We were set to go by the time our friends arrived.

 Our first stop was in Flagstaff, Arizona. We were going to spend the night there. The wife of the other couple we traveled with had made the arrangements ahead of time and we were booked to stay at one of the two Ramada hotels. Now I’m not faulting the person who made the arrangements. I know she’s a careful shopper and planner and I know she also factored in keeping the expenses low, something I greatly appreciate. But after a few minutes in that hotel I’m convinced that “Ramada” is an Indian term for “Crappy hotel.” There were sections of that hotel that looked like they were ready to come crumbling down, but who knew? The worst part was the beds. Our room had two queen sized beds. Which Queen? I think the beds were sized more for the Queen of the Oompa Loompas than a gravitationally challenged couple. There is just no way that was a true queen. In any case we worked it out. We slept on our sides with either our butts hanging off the side or our arms dangling just off the floor.

 In the morning we woke up and started getting ready to pack up for the second leg of the trip. I took my shower, but before I went in I opened the suitcase to take out a fresh pair of underwear, a new pair of socks, and another shirt. There was just one problem. I didn’t pack any shirts. The only shirt I had was the funky one I was wearing. Normally this wouldn’t be a problem for at least another week, but on this trip this was going to be a bit of a problem. We tried going to Target to see if they had something that would work, but they too think that an XXL shirt is really meant for a slightly metabolically challenged Oompa Loompa, not a lazy Californian who has a love affair with donuts and his couch. Eventually I found something in Albuquerque when we drove through.

 The remainder of the road trip provided me with all sorts of entertainment and enlightenment. I’m not well traveled and just about everything is new to me. First off, Arizona and New Mexico are way nicer to motorists than California. We drove through lots of highway construction along the way. Nearly every time when we reached the end of the road work there was a sign that actually thanked us for the inconvenience. In California we’re only rewarded with yet more potholes to ruin our wheels. I found the road conditions to be much, much better and the drivers were so much nicer. All in all it almost made me forgive the police hiding every hundred yards to catch speeders along the way.

In Albuquerque I didn’t notice until very late that my lane ended and I had to merge to the left. The person who was there obviously didn’t want me to merge and tried to block me, but hey, in CA we deal with this every day and I got my car in there. The amazing thing was that the person behind me didn’t honk, yell, give me the finger, or shoot me. Weird. You know, now that I think about it I can’t recall even one instance of anyone even so much as tailgate me for not driving 110mph at all times. Very weird.

Along the way we stopped in Gallup at a place called Loves, I think. We went in to look around and I was just floored to see a whole aisle devoted to the sale of fireworks. It’s just not done where I live. There are places in surrounding cities that sell the safe and sane kind on the roadside, but I never stop at those. Why bother? We can’t have them where I live, we’ve never been able to have them, and my whole life my mom and the media have told me they are terrible things to be around, don’t even think about touching one. Yet there they were in front of me. They had big, giant boxes of fireworks for sale. For the low, low price of $135 I could buy a whole fireworks show and I too could risk blowing my hands off. I wanted a picture to prove to people what I had seen, but our camera was still in the car.

 We wanted lunch and across the parking lot we saw a convenience store that had a Subway and something called Chester’s Chicken. We went in. Everyone, but my wife and I stayed healthy and ate at Subway. My wife and I ate at Chester’s. We ordered a fried chicken meal with fries and corn on the cob. When the lady handed us our meals we saw this strange cylindrical object covered in crispy chicken crust. They lady saw us looking at it a little too long and told us that it was deep fried corn. You gotta be kidding! Cool. We actually didn’t like it. We each took a bite and gave up on it. You know when you sit there looking at two pieces of fried chicken, a handful of deep fried potato wedges that could choke a horse, and deep fried corn, you start to think that maybe your life had taken a bad turn somewhere and you need to make better choices. I only ate the chicken, but it was the best chicken I ever had.

 By luck the wife of the couple we were going to visit was in a town outside of Albuquerque at the time we were driving through. She waited for us at a gas station and then led us the rest of the hour and a half drive to her house. Along the way she periodically called my wife to point out various areas of interest. At one point she called and told us to look to our left to see Nipple Mountain far off in the distance. It really did look like a huge nipple with a really big areola at the bottom. The weather was a bit warm and I wondered what it looked like in the winter when it was colder. I’m curious though, how did she know I would care about that? I also wanted to look at a map and see if Vagina Gorge was anywhere in the area.

 When we arrived at her house I was a shocked at just how remote they are. They are something like thirty minutes from any mom and pop store or gas, but the view; oh man the view was fantastic. Their whole back yard is massive, and beyond that they are enclosed in the back by a crescent of scenic mountains. Their house is surrounded by fantastic views. I did get a bit excited momentarily when I saw a DirecTV satellite dish bolted to the side of their house. Unfortunately it’s from the past owners and they have no thought of getting TV service for their home. They did have a TV though, but it was just to play DVDs. That black monolith just sat there mocking me, reminding me of what I’ve momentarily lost in my life.

 These people are funny. They don’t care about technology at all. They are the kind of people who in the past have bought electronics for whatever reason, but let it sit in a box for months until someone sets it up for them. When we arrived and had a tour of the house they point out a new computer they bought weeks ago, but had not yet opened. My son and I spent a total of ten minutes setting it up for them. This included breaking down the old computer that didn’t work, dusting off the desk, and setting up the new computer. I should have been overjoyed to have a new computer at my disposal, but I wasn’t. They didn’t have any kind of internet service and I doubt they will ever get one. So this computer also served to remind me of what my life was sorely missing.

 We spent three days at this place. It was a great experience I’ll never forget. Now this doesn’t mean I want this type of life. I don’t, but I can see its merits. For the first time in years I never saw a speck of smog. I had almost forgotten what a clear sky looks like. I’d also forgotten that the air shouldn’t have a distinctive smoky smell to it. Each night we sat out on the rear deck and actually saw stars. I had seen a night sky like this only once in my life and it was many years ago in sixth grade camp. I actually saw shooting stars many times. Our bedroom for me and my wife was a really comfortable pull out couch in a room facing the back yard. The whole wall was basically a window. We went to sleep looking out at those stars and those mountains each night.

 During our stay I was captivated by their children and their two puppies. They have two boys, four and two. These kids each have their own room filled with lots of great toys – untouched toys. Well, nearly untouched. I loved watching these two boys play. They were always outside and always playing with some scrap of nothing. They spent their time running around, climbing a good sized hill off to the side of the house, and digging hole after hole. They paused just long enough to come to the door once in a while to beg for a popsicle or to torment each other to tears. Their life seemed idyllic.

The puppies were similar. They were two female dogs who howled each morning to wake us up and to be let out of their pen outside. Once they were released they too spent much of the day running around far off in the distance. One moment they were playing nicely. The next moment they were growling at each other while having a little spat. Their favorite toys seemed to always be a twig they discovered here and there.

 We spent our time talking, eating, playing horseshoes (I suck at this), and just lounging around soaking it all in. We met some of the coolest people. One couple was about our age – neighbors from down the road. The two of them together make up the local water company. That’s it, just two people. They also do other odd jobs around the community. In fact it seems like everyone has their hand in just about everything. I suppose they have to since they are few and so secluded. I’m not the most social person, but it’s hard to imagine not being social with people like these.

 On Saturday night I was going to miss the NASCAR race, but I planned to sit out in my car and listen to it on satellite radio. That was a different way to experience the race and was largely unsatisfying, but I will admit I was getting very excited when I heard them call the final laps of the race. I couldn’t wait to get home and watch it.

 We also spent a couple of nights lighting fireworks. The same kind of dangerous fireworks I’ve spent my whole life avoiding. I didn’t want my son around them. We kept our distance for a bit, but I admit it, in no time at all me and my son were running around like maniacs looking for just the perfect firework to set off next. It was so addicting and liberating at the same time. Who knows, in the future I might not wait an hour to go in the pool after eating too.

 On the second day there we went sight-seeing in two vehicles. I drove my car and followed our hosts' 4Runner. We visited some ghost town – boring. And then we later bought some sandwiches and drove down to a river to have a picnic lunch. Once we got to the river we drove down a paved road that eventually turned into a dirt one. As we drove by we noticed on car parked there. I saw a woman laying on top of a picnic table relaxing in the shade, but we didn’t stop. We kept driving down the road until it eventually got too rough for my car to handle. Our friend gets out and comes to our car to tell us it looks like I can’t continue further and she asks if we’re okay going back to the picnic tables. Sure, why not? Well, she tells me she’s sure she saw a naked woman laying on a large rock sunbathing. My wife’s comment was that her kids were too young to notice and it would probably make our son’s day (he was riding with them). We turned around to head back. I admit I didn’t care to go slowly to save my car’s suspension. I didn’t want the naked lady to leave before we got back. Unfortunately as we came back to the picnic tables the woman I saw lying on one of the tables gets up (she was dressed just like I saw her on our first pass), goes to the rock, and then we see some old tanned and leathery guy sit up and you could tell he was getting his shorts back on. Why is it that the only naked people out in public are the people who shouldn’t be naked in public? That was a downer.

 One of the most pleasant outcomes of the stay was that my son enjoyed it. I thought he would hate the whole trip. The car ride was what you would expect. He was bored and ignored us. But during our stay in seclusion he was social and didn’t seem to be embarrassed by us. It was so cool having a conversation with him and actually getting eye contact. Best of all he didn’t have his cell phone out and constantly texting because there was no cell service anywhere in the area. I’m actually thinking I might just take the hit in early termination fees and cancel his phone now.

 There was one potentially bad situation brewing throughout the trip from Friday evening on. I was drinking beer and soda all day and my wife was drinking wine coolers and soda all day. Beer makes me horribly gassy. I do my best to relieve pressure in a socially responsible way, but the gas just would go away. Night time was horrible. I don’t want to fart in bed. I’m pretty good at holding it in when I need to, but still, I worried. Then at one point I could tell my wife was in distress about something. She told me she was having issues with gas too. Then it occurred to me that we had a major issue brewing. She was trying to hold it in at night. I was trying to hold it in at night. We were sleeping either butt to butt or front to butt. It was like the cold war all over again. If one of us launched first that meant the other had nothing to lose and would launch the next salvo. Didn’t they call that mutually assured destruction back in the day? I made sure not to make any sudden moves at night. It all ended well with no mishaps.

 Eventually we said our goodbyes and we headed back to Flagstaff to the same Ramada. I was really not looking forward to that hotel again. I was so desperate to limit my time in the room that even though we were extremely tired my wife and I went out to drive around Flagstaff. Along the way we came to a street named Beaver. We both started laughing at that one so I turned down the street to see what’s on beaver. Within a few blocks we came upon South Beaver School and had another round of laughs as we wondered what the school mascot looked like. I mean c'mon, the school's not just named Beaver, it's named South Beaver. We did see a couple of adults in the parking lot and wanted to ask them what the job situation and pay was like, but we chickened out.

In the morning I was relieved to hear that the couple we traveled with wanted to visit an historic home in Flagstaff this morning. This was our perfect excuse to leave really early, not because we didn't want to be with them, we did. It was because I was really anxious to get home and back to my normal life as soon as possible.

 I know I couldn’t live a life out in the middle of nowhere like our friends do. It was nice to experience for a few days, but I’m good for a while. Still, I wonder if there’s any property for sale near Nipple Mountain?

15 Comments

We need adaptive state testing
by: Hifiman, 06-23-2009

It was about a month ago that we completed two weeks worth of state testing. I'm still anxiously awaiting the results, which will not come out until August. I think my students did well, but who knows. They have lots of knowledge in their heads, but it's hard for them to make the connections when they take these tests. But yesterday made me rethink the whole concept of state testing. Maybe the idea of testing isn't the problem. Perhaps it's the way our students are tested.

Our students read an incredibly long passage, attempt to decipher an awkwardly worded question, and then bubble their responses on a scantron form. They were doing that back when I was a kid even before Pop Rocks were invented. It's time for a change. We need a field trip to assess student learning. I truly think this is the only way to really see what they know and what they can do.

For weeks now my students have been eagerly anticipating our trip to a theme park. And you know how it is, they drive you crazy with the constant questions about every single facet of the anticipated fun. A few weeks ago I finally had the permission slips in my hands to hand out to the students. I sort of dreaded it. It's hard to get anything back. I send notes home, but they come back way too late, if at all. I send pictures home and then eventually a reminder to pay for them or return them. Eventually it's a second reminder, then a final reminder, until eventually the next round of school photos are taken and we start the process again.

I've also sent a few permission slips home along the way, but even those never seem to be a priority and when I do get them back I often find they are not completely filled out and I have to start the process again. Well, this time I put it all on them. I handed the students the permission slips for this field trip and I told them I would be happy to collect them, but I will not ask for them. I will check to see what I have the morning of the trip and any student that doesn't have one turned in or has one incomplete will be staying behind. I had every last one turned in within a couple of days. Not one was incomplete. Interesting. Did this mean the actually could take responsibility for something that was important to them?

I'm also tired of having to repeat instructions far too many times throughout the year. No matter how many times I repeat things and then ask if anyone doesn't understand before turning them loose, I always get a few who then don't know where to begin. There have been times throughout the year when I've been really tempted to hand out an assignment and just tell them to do it without explaining anything to them. I'm sure I'll have the usual students figure it out anyway, the others will still just perform an interpretive dance while they sit at their desks and daydream of making cootie catchers. For this field trip I went over a list of things we needed to bring or not bring on the day of the field trip. I was quite surprised to learn that they not only listened, they did what I asked. Why start now?

What happened next is almost to crazy to be believed. I recall that during state testing I tried my hardest to get them to go to the bathroom ahead of time, but no, they didn't need to go until after the second question of the test. At that same time I asked that they work on finishing their breakfast in the class quickly so we could get settled in for the test. Never happened. Well, yesterday the breakfasts were consumed in record time and several students went to the bathroom twice "Just to make sure." Then we lined up to walk to the bus. They needed to be in their usual ABC order. The very same order they've had to be in all year long and have fussed about each and every time. But no, not yesterday. They filed out of the class quickly and proudly set a great example of what a line should look like. It only took 567 tries all year long to finally get it right.

We did have one other problem that really allowed my group to shine. The person who had all of our tickets was a bit tardy in showing up to the buses. We had to wait a bit, which is usually what has destroyed every other attempt at keeping a great line all year long. Nope, not yesterday. Filing onto the bus was also heartwarming. They did it quickly cooperatively and filled it from back to front without much fussing. My students were kind, courteous, and setting an excellent example of teamwork. It was such a nice change from the previous 1,017 injuries and hurt feelings in line all year.

The bus ride to the theme park was, well..., let's not dwell on that. It doesn't fit quite as well as I'd like it to for the purposes of this story.

When we got to the theme park they once again did a miraculous job of forming a line - in ABC order - without asking . They walked harmoniously during the long walk to the entrance and there was not one single complaint of being hit, looked at, spoken to, or farted in front of during the whole time. They stayed as a group when asked and waited for final instructions before starting on the fun.

During the day I kept my eye on lots of groups of students throughout the park. For the first time all year long I did not see or hear of one incident of people not getting along. I was amazed. I wondered why it was that all year long whenever I had them work in groups to complete a project I usually spent more time solving issues between them than actually helping them complete their assignment. I suppose all my hard work finally sunk in at the end of the year and they finally figured out how to get along.

In no time at all my students started to display their academic prowess too. At the end of the year I still have lots of students struggling with time. I can't tell you how many times they want me to tell them the time, or to tell them how many more minutes until lunch, or to go home, etc. Not yesterday. They knew when lunch was even though it was at a different time than our normally scheduled lunch. They knew what time our day was to wrap up at the park AND they were able to calculate just how much time they had left AND (I feel like whispering as I type this) they showed excellent problem solving skills as they calculated which rides to go on to maximize their fun in the allotted time they had left.

I also saw hordes of kids who have struggled with the concept of money all year long suddenly act like accountants as they looked at their funds, set up a budget in their heads, shopped for items within that budget, and still had money left over to buy a third funnel cake. I think I even saw one kid helping the others in his group set up 6 month CDs.

Gathering up the students at the end of the day and the bus ride home was, well..., let's not dwell on that either. It doesn't fit quite as well as I'd like it to for the purposes of this story.

On the ride back I thought this was all really inspiring. I have proof that these kids, when properly motivated, can do more than plot trajectories of french fries at lunch and mine for boogers in class. I saw them doing things on their own that seemed so out of character for them and so unattainable in the classroom. Maybe the states need to work with theme parks hand in hand to assess students' understanding of the standards. I'm thinking along the lines of answering a question or two to get on the Supreme Coaster of Death and Dismemberment. They get it right, they go on the ride. If not, then they'll have to try to pass the test to get on the slightly less scary "Teacups of Vomit." I think we'll all be out of program improvement very quickly.

1 Comments

Time to get my sass on
by: Hifiman, 06-19-2009

For starters, thank you to everyone for the support. I really don't have anyone to vent to about things except my wife. I try not to do that too much because really, how much does she really want to hear - over and over again. I know last year it was so much easier being able to talk about my situation here. Besides, I suppose I have to stop talking about boobs sometime.

REB said "I should get my sass on." I agree. That's what's so frustrating about this situation. I can't be me. I can be 90% me, but I can't be the person I truly am on campus. I so desperately want to tell a few people exactly how I feel about the things they do and say, but I don't because I have a fear of doing anything that will prevent me from getting rehired next year. That's why last year I had the big embarrassing meltdown in the VP's office when I was having issues with the grandmother of one of my students. It was the stress of the class, the stress of the student and grandma, the stress of the RIF, and then hearing admin say that they wanted to do everything they could to appease grandma so she wouldn't file a complaint at the district office. The worry of that psycho grandma and her grandchild saying something that might prevent me from being rehired was just too much for me to bear and I reacted in a way that wasn't characteristic for me.

So now I'm thinking when and where do I get the opportunity to be me in all my splendor? I joke with people on campus just as much as I joke with people on here. Actually, probably lots more. It's just that any time I'm feeling wronged I feel like I have to keep my mouth shut and do my best imitation of the good teammate or the good teacher in the eyes of the parent. I know no matter what I will have to do that to some degree, but it would be nice to be a little more real. It would be nice to let off some steam and not present myself as a doormat.

I still haven't gotten to the issues that really bugged me yesterday. I tried writing about them earlier, but I just wasn't feeling it. Maybe tomorrow.

9 Comments

When will I feel like a real teacher?
by: Hifiman, 06-18-2009

Today was just an awful day for me. Well, most of it was okay, but the parts that went badly have drained all my energy. I'm feeling really low this evening.

School started out well enough, until I went into the lounge and discovered that we would have no reprieve from our normal Monday meetings. That put me in a sour mood. We have just ten days left. What could there possibly be left to talk about? Of course I quickly followed this thought by asking myself if anyone cared about all of the end of the year things we need to get done. Silly question, I know.

The rest of the day went well enough. The kids were getting crazy, but so was I. No, my mood took a serious nose dive at the end of the day. I released my class and walked to the gate for my after school duty. One of the other teachers was already there, the one who very rarely shows up for her duty. Why couldn't she have stayed in her class today? I walk up and she greets me. I greet her back and ask her how she's doing. She says great, but then adds that she'll be doing even better in four more days. I thought to myself that it's really nine more days until all of us are doing much better. It's like she read my mind. She corrected herself by saying we would be doing much better in nine days. She then felt the need to add, "But it's a mixed thing for you. In nine days you'll be on vacation, but you'll also be out of a job." No sh!t Sherlock! Why don't you tell me I'm fat, ugly, and kick me in the nuts too?

I don't get this. Why say something like this to someone? I desperately wanted to tell her what an idiot she was. I wanted to say the most foul things I could think of to let her know once and for all just how stupid some of the things are that she says. Instead, all I say is, "Yes."

Being laid off is upsetting, but even worse is the sense of loneliness that comes with it. I find time and again that people say the most ridiculous things to those of us in this position. Earlier last week someone mentioned that it would be nice for me to collect unemployment and stay home with the family. Are you kidding me? This person is one of the nicest people I know and I respect him a lot, but again, why say that? I want to teach. I want to pay my bills. I don't want to sit home watching daytime TV and collect $450/week. I don't want to be subsidized. Even worse, I don't want to continue feeling like I'm not yet a teacher.

I mentioned this to my wife a few days ago when she went to her school's end of the year party. I didn't want to go. Mostly because I don't do well with crowds, but also, I thought it would be painful to be amongst a group of people celebrating the end of another stressful year and anticipating a new start next year. Many of them will be working a new grade level, working in a new room, and working with a new team. I will be at home collecting a government check. All of this makes me feel like I'm not yet a teacher. Like I don't have a place to call home.

I started my first year of teaching near the end of the first trimester a few years ago. It was a second grade class. For almost the entire year I battled the constant complaints that I wasn't doing things the way their teacher did them. Yeah kids? Gee, I wish there was some way of getting you to understand your former teacher was a disgruntled employee that thought nothing of leaving you for greener pastures in another campus with a higher-end demographic. So all year I felt like a long-term sub. At the end of the year I had to wait to find out if my contract would be renewed. It was. I was slated to teach 5th.

I taught that year of hell and was rewarded at the end by a RIF. In two years I'd taught two grade levels, worked with two different teams, neither of which I wanted to leave. All I knew is that wherever I landed the following year it would definitely be a different campus and I had no idea which grade level.

This year I started a week into the school year. Once again I had to battle with the constant complaints of "That's not the way our teacher does it." Thankfully that didn't continue very long at all. But now here we are at the end of another school year. I know I won't be back on this same campus. I just started to feel like I was really gelling with my team. I have no idea when, if, and where I will be working in the future. If I'm hired next school year I'm looking at working at three different schools in four years of teaching. I don't have a place to call home. It took me two years to know all of the teachers at my old school. This year I only know less than half of the teachers at my present school. Now if I get a job I've got to do the whole thing all over again. I'm getting sick and depressed over this.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that up to this point I've not yet taught a year that wasn't based in some sort of turmoil that honestly, I don't feel anyone should have to endure. I'm tired of feeling like I'm expendable. I don't like feeling like a cast-off. I want to know what it's like to teach a class from the first day of school, until the last. And I want to know what it's like to know that I will be back at that school next year. I don't think that's asking too much.

This whole thing's been a stream of consciousness for me tonight. There's more I want to talk about, but I'll save that for tomorrow.

15 Comments

Teachers need awards too
by: Hifiman, 06-30-2009

This is for you SBC723

I can’t believe I’ve forgotten to acknowledge the teachers for end of the year awards. I’ve met a lot of really great teachers who are completely worthy of an award. I hope they won’t find out this was last minute and think I’ve forgotten them.

Maximizing Instructional Minutes Award.
This award can’t even begin to express how I really feel about your commitment to teaching. All year you have squeezed every possible instructional minute out of the day. It is truly touching the way you can’t seem to let go of your students to release them for recess or to go home on time. I and many other teachers have a great time trying to guess when or if you’ll make it out for duty. Personally I want to thank you for helping me develop even better bladder control. And you are doing wonders for my vocabulary enrichment. Great job!

The Teammate of the Year Award
Too many chefs in the kitchen can ruin the pot. No one seems to know this better than you. We all love the way you’ve chosen to latch onto just one teacher and plan activities just with each other. We appreciate that your distance is encouraging us to do the same. You two seem inseparable, but really, you need to get over your shyness towards each other when you have your spouses with you.

The Assistant to the Administrator Award
I know I speak for all the other teachers when I say you helped make this year what it was. Speaking personally, I can admit that more than once I was doing something different from “The way we do things here.” But what I really liked was the way you took charge and set me straight. Yes, a firm voice and an audience do wonders to make sure I will never allow my class to deviate from the yellow line in the hallways again. I know you are not yet an administrator, but we all look forward to the day when you have your own campus somewhere else in the district to spread your wisdom. Good luck!

The Motivator Award
This has been a tough year for all of us. Everyone’s under scrutiny to make sure our students are performing in the classroom. Sometimes we’ve wondered if we were simply adequate, especially after we reviewed the data for the second benchmark this year. But you always cheered us up. When we were at our lowest you would come along and firmly tell us in a way that all the parents in the parking lot could hear, that your students loved you, that they couldn’t stand to leave your class to go home, and that your whole group was nearly ready to enter MIT. Thank you for making us realize that we just need to try a little harder!

Special Recognition for State Testing Award
State testing. Honestly, what more can be said? Sometimes we feel like we’re fighting a losing battle. Thankfully we have a teacher like you who always produces stellar scores for even the most academically challenged students. I know, sometimes teachers, like chefs, don’t like to share their recipe for success. But really you have to let us in on the secret sometime. I mean you always refuse to have a proctor and you insist that not even an administrator can come into the classroom during testing because that will upset the balance of the classroom environment you’ve worked so hard to maintain. We’re baffled, but we are forever thankful to have you set the standard everyone else is measured by.

The Staff Development Award
We are all so thankful to you. Every Monday we dread the weekly staff meeting. Most of us just want to get through it and move on with our lives, but we can always count on you to remind us just how important they really are. We admit it; we get distracted and tend to lose interest when we are covering the same topic for the tenth time this year. But you always make sure to ask a battery of questions at the very end of the meeting. Those extra fifteen to twenty minutes each week are invaluable to us all. Thank you for caring!

The Public Relations Award
Building a relationship with our students’ parents is often tricky and time consuming. We all really love the way you build personal relationships with parents throughout the year. You seem to have a really tight bond with them and they love you for it. I really wish we had your skill too because all too often we have a slightly different spin on student performance and behavior. We seem to lack your skill in communicating to the parents exactly what they want to hear. You make our jobs interesting by keeping us on our toes. Way to go!

The Mentor Award
This is a very special award given to only a few deserving teachers who go the extra mile to help others, even those who aren’t on their grade level. We’ve all shared countless stories of the many times you seemed to know exactly what everyone else on campus is doing in their classroom. We really appreciate you taking special interest in all of us through your constant critiques. There are too many people who are too quick to lend a helping hand to set us straight. We really appreciate the way you try to make us self-sufficient by pointing things out and letting us figure it all out on our own. You’re a gem!

The Team Player Award
We all really love your class. They are just so much fun, especially in the auditorium for assemblies. We all enjoy fine tuning our behavior management skills to keep your group in check while you sit in the last available chair and relax. You’ve worked hard all day. You deserve it!

Special Recognition for Hard Work all Year
Though not teachers, we would be remiss if we didn’t acknowledge the playground supervisors. Without your hard work our school wouldn’t run like the well oiled machine it is. We appreciate your help with our students. We agree, we should do a better job managing their behavior when we hand them off to you and go clear across campus to the teachers’ lounge for lunch. You need to know that our students really do enjoy having you monitor them. They love hanging around your team as you sit on the benches under the shade and talk about all the important things going on in your life. And please don’t think the students don’t appreciate all the confidence you have in them to do the right thing on the playground and not get into situations where they’ll get hurt. Cheers to you for encouraging their independence!

5 Comments

Don't Forget, Parents Deserve Awards Too
by: Hifiman, 06-25-2009

Lots of things are happening on campus these days. The end of the year is approaching and the kids are very excited about the upcoming barbecue, field trip, and fifth grade promotion ceremony where they will wear a graduation gown. They are getting so lost in the excitement that many of them are barely covering their tracks after getting into situations they know they are going to get in trouble over. Of course this means that report cards are on my mind and will soon be a priority so I can determine who will win awards to shove in the face of those who do not get one. But you know these awards really should not be limited to our students. We have many parents who go the extra mile and they need recognition too. Besides, we really do want to encourage parents to be a part of their child’s education. So I thought of a few awards to recognize their efforts with. I can’t wait to present them, but first I have to finalize the comments.

The Most Supportive Parent of the Year Award
Thank you for taking great interest in your child’s educational experience all year. It’s been inspirational to see how strongly you support your child. All too often I’ve come across other parents who are swayed by eyewitness accounts of their children’s behavior. Not you. No, you trust your child implicitly and believe him even when he’s contradicted by half the school. Thank you for your support!

The Environmentalist Award
The conservation of our environment is something too few people take seriously. All year I’ve been amazed at how well your child has done without ever bringing a pencil or paper to school. With more parents like you we might someday truly have a paperless society. Thank you for your commitment!

Perfect Attendance Award
It’s commendable the way you’ve always made sure your child never missed a day of school all year. I’ve lost count of the number of times your child came to school in obvious distress, but it’s a valuable lesson you are teaching. Too few people understand the importance of commitment. Besides, the other students enjoy sharing your child's misery. Me too!

Most Enthusiastic Parent Conference Participant Award
It’s very hard for many parents to find the time to make it to parent/teacher conferences. Many try, but are very limited in the time they have available. They are content to limit their stay the appointed twenty-minutes. However, you made sure to go the extra mile for your child and stayed long enough to let me know you really, really care. I appreciate your support and I know your child does too! By the way, I do hope your family does all get together for the holidays this year and I hope you able to convince Uncle Joe to enter rehab – again.

Closest Parent/Child Relationship Award
It’s unfortunate, but parents are just so busy that they often have little time to spend with their children. It’s so refreshing to see you making the extra effort to stay connected. I know your child enjoys being pulled out early at least once a week – usually on Friday. She tells me she really enjoys those hair and nail appointments that are almost impossible to get on any other day at any other time. Cherish these days!

Most Focused on Others Award
It takes a village to raise a child and no one seems to know that better than you. There have been times throughout the year that your child has needed your support by phone or in person. However, you always keep me on track by pointing out that the real issues lie with the other children on campus. I thank you for your wonderful insight and I’m sure the other parents are grateful for the help too. Thank you!

The Privacy Award
Let's admit it. Sometimes parents can be a little too involved in their children’s lives. That’s important, but the fine art of allowing a young child to become autonomous is concept that hasn’t quite taken off yet. You are a pioneer. You’ve made yourself unavailable by phone, by mail, and in person. Your child is truly becoming independent and is quickly deciding the limits of his academic involvement. He’s going to make you proud some day!

Most Communicative Award
Some parents are content by sending me a note with their child or perhaps leaving a message for me in office to return a call. But they can never be sure the message will truly get to me in a timely manner. I can’t tell you how refreshing it is to have such a concerned parent that will think nothing of dropping everything to call me in my classroom during a lesson. Now I know, you couldn’t have done it on your own without the help from the office staff, but still, you took the initiative. And I can’t begin to express to you my feelings when you called me at home late at night and kept me on the phone for what seemed like hours. Thank goodness for DVRs! But really, you have to tell me some time how you got my home number in the first place.

The Disciplinarian Award
Teachers accept that students need some extra nudging from home to become good students and citizens. But the reward is when we get to work hand in hand with a parent who is just as concerned. I love the old school approach where you’re not afraid to raise your voice a little and discuss your child's future life expectancy. But what I really love is the way you usually show your softer side and put a new video game system up for bargain in the process. It just goes to show, parents really do know what their child wants.



Truly I can’t wait to give these out and watch the parents faces light up. I hope I remember to bring my camera.

12 Comments

Closing the acheivement gap on my 300th post
by: Hifiman, 05-30-2009

This is my 300th post on my blog. It took a long time to get here. I blame the original thread killer back in its day. I probably put out at least 100 good thoughts out there that I probably would rather have saved for my blog to flesh them out a bit. In any case, I had thrown around a few ideas for this post for a few days now. Nothing really sang to me until today when my wife came home. She was in a foulish mood. Maybe miffed is a better word. I bet you think her class put her in the mood. No, it was her 4,000th meeting this year to "go over the data." Honestly, how many times can you beat a dead horse before calling it quits? When she told me how the meeting played out I couldn't stop laughing.

My wife's school is no different from many other title 1 schools out there. They suffer with state testing because of poor performance from one or two sub groups. It's California so you know one of the sub groups has to the EL students. This group has been their focus - at the expense of the other groups of course. Well, they received some good news recently. There was some sort of problem with the scoring of the state testing last year so the results were corrected. Her school had already done well, but now they had done even better. The district people running the marathon meeting were very happy to tell them that this sub group improved by 5 pts, which I believe is overall for this group, not just with the corrected numbers. There was one footnote to this. The non-minority group decreased by 3 pts. You might think the same thing my wife and her coworkers thought - it's bad news because that particular group lost ground. No,no. You're wrong. This is good news. They were told that this shows they are closing the acheivment gap between these two groups. It's cause to celebrate and they wondered why the teachers weren't clapping. Clapping? Are they for real? A gap was closed with the aid of another group performing lower than the previous year. This is insane.

I don't get it. After I stopped laughing I had to pause to think just how sad this is. We all know this is what education has been reduced to. If this was a movie it would be panned by the critics as being a poorly constructed farce. But Hollywood is where this belongs because no matter how I've warped this into some silliness on my blog the reality is that the real world has outdone me.

I've written many times about this subject on my blog. Two entries stand out in my mind. In one entry I described a scenario in which we implement new school uniforms according to test scores. Far below basic students will wear red shirts, below basics wear orange, basics wear yellow, proficients wear light green, and advanced students wear dark green. Additionally, since we have dehumanized them into simple data there's no reason to call them by their names. Instead, a typical first name might be "Basic" and the last name might be "279" to reflect last year's state test score. It just seems simpler since that's all we do in just about every staff meeting anyway.

The other post that comes to mind is the one where I describe desperately needed legislation (the actual title, I think). I talk about my proposals for "No Millionaire Left Behind, No Fat People Left Behind, No Bald Men Left Behind, and my personal favorite, No Thong Left Behind. These two post really sum up in my mind where education is headed. Sadly, I think it's more accurate to say this is what education currently is.

So if my wife's school closed the acheivement gap by the poor performance of one group why can't that apply to other situations in our everyday lives? Here's just a few off the top of my head.

I don't like that I make less money than some. I could put forth to take the necessary steps to increase it, but why bother? It's much simpler to reduce everyone else's salary until we've closed the gap.

I also really admire all the people driving a new Lexus, Mercedes, Porche, etc. in my neighborhood. My neighbor across the street just purchased a brand new Porche Cayenne GTS. Try as I might, my Altima just doesn't give me the same goosebumps even though I sometimes try making race car noises when I drive. It's not fair that I'm underaceiving in the automotive world. The government needs to step in and confiscate these cars to close the gap for the rest of us. It's only fair.

I really don't like being the fattest guy on campus. I do go to the gym, but doing a real workout is so....I don't know - hard. I also love sugar and grease. Skinny people need to be force-fed to close the gap too (Not you REB. In case you read this we're all proud of you. You'll be the only person allowed to stay skinny).

Oh! I really don't like that Kyle Busch is a ridiculously talented driver. I'm sure he makes the other drivers feel bad every time he passes them. He needs to start every race with two punctured tires to give the other guys a chance and close the gap (Actually, I really do want this to happen. I'll puncture the tires, but I need Chronic to be my bodyguard).

Sure all of this is silly, but it's just as worthy of a Hollywood story. Maybe a double-feature with the new movie NCLB: I Know What You Scored Last Year.

Now all silliness aside, here's what I really want to know: At which point in time did these district people choose to ignore common sense in favor of delusional thinking? Was it a slow process, or did it just click one day?

5 Comments

Seasona Finale of Teacher Survivor
by: Hifiman, 06-21-2009

Welcome back everyone to the final episode of Teacher Survivor: USA – NCLB. I am your host Mike Hifiman. It’s been about a month since our last episode. This was due to California’s budget crisis. Apparently the public education system has failed America since we can’t seem to produce a politician that can work the numbers worth a damn.

On the last episode the two tribes were merged and are now known as Team RIFed Any Day Now. They didn’t have long to get use to their new team before they faced one of their most difficult challenges as they took eighty second grade students on a trip to a local museum. Overall the team did well. There were no injuries and no students were lost, but in the end someone had to go. However, before the team made it to tribal council Marge decided she’d had enough and voluntarily walked off.

Today’s episode provides a new challenge for our Survivors as they compete to Outlast, Outteach, and Outscheme each other to be the one true Teacher Survivor.

Previously the opening theme music was provided by two 5th graders who snuck out of class to play their recorders. The school’s administrator was livid to learn of this; however, state testing has now concluded and the administration doesn’t really care what the students do as long as there aren’t any witnesses and they don’t have to deal with the end of the year discipline problems. So cue the music that is now provided by the entire 5th grade class.

“Welcome back Survivors. You’re now down to the final four and one of you will walk away today as this season’s one true Teacher Survivor. You’ve faced some difficult challenges, but today’s challenge may prove to be your undoing. Today’s challenge tests your stamina, your ability to focus, and perhaps most importantly, your ability to maintain your sanity. Today you will be attending a district staff training. The winner of this challenge will be the last person left standing at the end of the day. ”

Alma immediately gasped.

“Survivors – the training you are attending today will prepare you to be better teachers. Completing this training requires you to be out of the classroom for the day. You will need to plan for a sub; however, for this training you are required to bring all of your current teacher’s editions for each subject area. This means you must take extra care to photocopy all relevant pages your substitute teacher will need for the day. Additionally, you must bring with you the following data:”

·All relevant testing data for each student. This includes all the data for state tests, district benchmark tests, summative tests, theme skills tests, Dibels tests, running records, weekly quizzes, etc. All of this data should be well organized, bound, and cross referenced.
·Student work samples. This will include all weekly class work, homework, class projects. If you have already sent some of this work home for their parents to see then it is completely acceptable to dig through each of the classroom’s trash cans to recover them. Don’t forget to look in the students’ desks, the playground, the hallways, the bathrooms, the parking lot, the dumpster, and the branches of any tree on campus. This should be well organized, laminated, bound, and cross referenced.
·You will also need copies of the district’s pacing guides, your lesson plans for the year, as well as any current lesson plans you are working on. This should also be well organized, bound, and cross referenced. Additionally all relevant standards for every lesson should be included.

“Survivors, you have one hour to prepare. The training promptly starts at 8am at the district office. The district has already sent out four memos demanding that all participants be on time and well prepared. Your challenge begins now.”

Each of the four remaining Survivors rushes off to prepare. Tom and Bill are scrambling to find all the documentation needed for the training. Alma and Maggie have decided to start making their lesson plans for their subs.

At the forty-five minute mark Tom is desperately scrambling to find a working copier on campus to make photocopies of the teaching materials for his sub since he must take all of the teaching materials with him to the training. He knows it takes an act of God to get the office staff to let him use theirs so instead, he has settled on trying to get one of the faculty copiers working. He has tried moving every knob, pushing every button, and pulling down on every lever, but the messages on the copier’s display still insist there’s a paper jam. Things are further complicated by the fact that the flashing diagrams on the LCD display look nothing like the interior of the copier. Eventually he slams the access door shut in a fit of rage and desperation, but the only result is that he is now covered in a fine mist of toner from head to toe.

Bill is having better luck. He immediately went to the office staff and offered them a box of donuts to use their copier. One of the secretaries let him use the copier after first verifying that the donuts were indeed fresh and that no less than three had sprinkles.

Alma had similar luck by showing up with a carafe full of Starbucks coffee for the office staff.

Maggie was nowhere to be found.

Eventually nearly everyone was ready to leave for the training; however, Tom possibly has broken three fingers from attempting to get the copier to work and now has half of his shirt tangled up within the rollers inside the machine. He desperately pleads with the office staff to help him, but because he has misplaced his wallet he can’t pay the necessary fees to get them to help. One of the more exclusive cliques of teachers happened to walk by and stopped momentarily to laugh at him.

At just a few minutes before 8am Bill and Alma pull into the district parking lot, find a large rolling cart, and then pile on no less than fourteen boxes filled with their teacher’s editions, data, student work, etc. and then they make their way to the training room. However, their first issue was finding the right room. It seems no one at the district office has any clue that there is any training taking place today. As they roam the hallways they eventually narrow it down to one remaining corridor and continue the search. It’s now ten minutes past eight and Bill is stressed that they are late. Eventually they do find the right room and discover that not only are they the first of the teachers to arrive, the trainers have not yet shown up either.

It’s nearly 8:25 before the room starts filling up with the other teachers. At 8:35 the trainers start to arrive because they didn’t get the call until a half hour ago that they were to present something. It isn’t until 8:45 that the trainers start to set up.
It was at this time that Maggie showed up and quietly took a seat at the back. No one seemed to notice her or care that she was late. She also didn’t appear to have any of the required teaching materials or student data with her either.

Eventually Tom made it in as well. His shirt was torn and upon closer inspection appears to have actually been bitten off to free himself. He does have all his data with him, but he has severely injured his back by attempting to carry it all. Eventually everyone takes a seat and by 9:15 the training session is ready to begin.

The trainers call for everyone’s attention and start explaining to the group what to expect as they hand out the day’s agenda. The first point of order is tardiness. Everyone is told that they are on a strict timeline and no one is to be late – even from breaks and lunch. Furthermore they hold the threat of homework if the group is late and can’t get to everything on the agenda. As they begin to read the agenda every one of the teachers pulls out their cell phones and begins texting every last person on the planet – twice.

Tom wants to text, but his injured fingers have swollen to twice their size and let’s face it, no adult can accurately type anything on those damn iPhones anyway.

Alma and Bill are still trying to find room for all the required materials they brought with them for the meeting. There is not nearly enough room for the items, but fortunately none of the other teachers besides them and Tom actually brought anything to this training anyway.

Maggie is simply smiling and seemingly doesn’t have a care in the world.

It is now nearly 9:30 and somehow the group is already four hours behind schedule. At this point the trainers think it would be nice to have everyone introduce themselves by stating their name, the school they work at, and the grade they teach. Alma instantly frowns at the thought of doing this. As the introductions begin there are several teachers who not only take delight in telling us the information that was asked for, they also tell us about their turn-ons, turn-offs, current and past relationships, last night’s dream, and what they plan to do this weekend.

Bill has become numb to it all by the time the first table group finishes sharing. Alma is in a panic because she hates talking to strangers and is frantically trying to do the math to figure out the best time to fake a bathroom trip so she’ll be skipped. Tom is starting to panic because he’s started wheezing from the morning’s toner shower. And Maggie continues smiling without a care in the world.

It is nearly 10:15 and the introductions are only halfway done. Every one of the survivors has shared their life’s story with the group except Alma, who has disappeared and may have fallen asleep on the toilet.

Eventually the introductions are over and it’s time for a break; however, the trainers tell the group that because of the tight scheduling they would like for the group to give up the fifteen minute break in favor of going home one minute early. Reluctantly the teachers agree and then two minutes later three-fourths of the group leaves anyway to take a thirty-minute break. They really needed the rest because by this time their thumbs were feeling a bit arthritic from the morning’s marathon texting.

At about 11am the trainers start their presentation in earnest. They begin with a four hundred fifty-two slide Power Point presentation that leads with citations from research indicating all teachers are grossly inadequate and should seriously consider flipping burgers as a new career. The next ten slides assert that student performance is unreasonably low because teachers don’t have high expectations of them. The next twenty-two slides cited research that claimed the real reason fourth grade students can’t meet the NCLB requirement to readjust the earth’s tectonic plates to create more decorator friendly land masses is because teachers are not devoting a full thirty minutes of uninterrupted UA time every day.

The next slide simply said, “Teachers suck.”

As the presenter was discussing the research indicating that students would consistently score two points higher on the state tests if they stretched for two minutes prior to opening their textbooks Tom started to tune out. He began to notice all the women in attendance and categorize them from least hot to hottest. There were a few near one corner of the room that he couldn’t quite see so he stood up and craned his neck for a better view. Being the thorough kind of teacher he is he double-checked everyone in the room to make sure his list was accurate.

Bill was trying to ask questions, but couldn’t because there were two teachers in attendance who insisted on dominating the training by trying to take over the duties of the people presenting.

Alma was still asleep in the bathroom.

Maggie still seems content and doesn’t seem to be bothered by anyone.

By the time the presenter made it to the seventieth slide the group learned that the secret to good teaching was effective planning. The next forty slides had screen shots of the perfect lesson plans for one day’s worth of teaching – one subject. The next fourteen slides cited research claiming that anything less than the previously viewed forty pages of lesson planning would not adequately prepare students to completely map the human genome by the second trimester of the third grade per NCLB requirements.

The next slide said, “Teachers really suck.”

Bill tried once again to ask some questions, but four of his boxes of materials had shifted and fallen on him trapping him up against the wall. No one could hear him ask for help because at this point those same two teachers were in a heated argument with each other because they each wanted to desperately prove they were not only more knowledgeable than the presenters, but also more knowledgeable than anyone in the room.

Tom had still tuned out completely. By now he was busily categorizing the other female teachers by breast size from biggest to smallest. He did this with amazing speed and confidence in his accuracy.

Alma had awakened from her nap and was wandering the halls in search of a vending machine.

Maggie’s smile didn’t waver.

At slide two hundred fifty the trainers decided to break for lunch. They encouraged all the teachers to only take thirty minutes for lunch, instead of forty-five, so the group could leave another minute early. The teachers all cleared out for lunch. A half hour later no one had returned – not even the trainers. Ten minutes later people started to trickle in. Ten minutes after that the trainers showed up. Five minutes after that they were prepared to continue. Thirty seconds later everyone resumed texting.

The Survivors were back from lunch as well, including Alma. Tom was a bit late though. It turns out he had to give the office staff his car in payment for being freed from the copier. He also had to sign an agreement offering them free gas for a year in exchange for the one-time use of their copier.

The district trainers then told the group that they thought it would be fun for everyone to get into groups for some activities. One of the trainers insisted that people sit at a table where they didn’t know anyone. Alma immediately rose from her chair and left for a bathroom break.

Bill had terrible luck. He was seated at the table with the two competing teachers. He couldn’t hear anything the trainers were actually saying because both of these ladies loudly countered everything that was said. Eventually these ladies teamed up. One physically held the presenter down while the other one taught the class. One of the other presenters called for security, which showed up five minutes later. Ten minutes after that their backup had arrived and they removed the two teachers with very little bloodshed though one of the security guards was sent to the ER for a nasty bite.

On slide three hundred ninety-five there was a chart outlining student performance in the district. Bill raised his hand to ask if this is the point where he should start unpacking his data from the numerous bankers’ boxes he brought with him. After an uncomfortably long pause one of the trainers told him that it was nice that he had it with him, but that it wouldn’t actually be needed at today’s training session. The rest of the teachers in attendance started to snicker at his faux pas. In an effort to help him feel better the trainer reminded him that any data at a teacher’s fingertips is highly valuable if we are to meet the individual needs of the student and properly differentiate instruction. Bill flipped out at the mention of the word differentiation. He grabbed one of his thirty-three binders containing cross-referenced data and lunged for that trainer. Unfortunately the weight of that one binder was so great that he wrenched his back in the attempt and lay sprawled out on the floor. He had to be sedated and carried away and is now the first of the final four out of the game.

Tom barely noticed Bill’s incident. He also didn’t seem to really care that he too had needlessly compiled his mountain of data. He was hopelessly bored out of his mind and had been busily categorizing all of the women in the room by whether the left or right boob was slightly bigger. He had identified twenty-four “Lefties” and seventeen “Righties.” Another male teacher sitting to his right happened to notice Tom’s notes and promptly pointed out that it was actually twenty-three lefties and eighteen righties because the shadows on the woman in the far left corner of the room were deceiving. Tom thought about it and agreed. He thanked the guy for helping him with his data analysis.

The next slide said, “Teachers really, really suck.”

Alma was once again asleep in the bathroom and had a disgusting stream of drool running out the side of her mouth.

Maggie’s smile hadn’t diminished one bit.

At 3pm the presenters wrapped up the training by showing one last slide reminding teachers that next year the NCLB requirements become even more stringent and that fourth grade students must discover a way to reverse the earth’s orbit around the sun just to see what it feels like to go the other way.

The teachers are then dismissed, which comes as great relief to most of the participants because cell phone batteries just don’t last like they used to. Tom and Maggie leave as well and meet up with the show’s host.

“Good to see you again Survivors. You’ve both made it to the end of the final challenge. Both Bill and Alma were disqualified. Bill lost because he cracked and attempted to attack one of the trainers. Alma lost because she spent the day asleep in the bathroom and never actually attended the training. So now we’re left with just the two of you.”

“Tom, you made it to the end. How did you survive?”
“Well, Mike, training sessions can be mentally trying, but I found that if I just focused on the things that mattered most to me I could endure most anything.”

“True, true. I do agree that you collected and analyzed valuable data today.”

“Maggie, you made it through the training better than anyone I’ve ever seen. You were unflappable. How did you do it?”

“Easy Mike. I’ve been to my share of trainings. I’ve learned to never make the rookie mistake of actually bringing any of the items that are always requested. They never actually use them in any training. As for enduring the senseless monotony I also learned to never leave home without these.”

Maggie then lifts her hair to reveal that she’s carefully run a pair of earphones up her neck and into her ears.

“Yup, I had a great opportunity to catch up on some podcasts and listen to a couple of audio books. It’s the only way to get any use out of a day like today.”

“Maggie, I admire your effort all season. You’ve been a great competitor and you obviously know how to make the most of a district training session. I can tell you that I would have done the same, but because you didn’t prepare any materials for today’s challenge and also because your earphones prevented you from having to actually listen to anyone drone on between insults teachers you are disqualified.”

“Tom, this means you are this season’s one true Teacher Survivor. Congratulations on a job well done.”

Tom is excited. He moves towards Maggie to give her a hug, but Maggie has stormed off.

The rest of the season’s contestants file in to congratulate Tom. Tom brushes them off to accept a hug from Jenna.

“Thank you for tuning in to this season’s Teacher Survivor: USA – NCLB. Unfortunately this is the last season of Survivor. NCLB now requires that all teachers give up any extracurricular activities to ensure that all students are 110 percent proficient – with ever decreasing funding for public education.”

“Thank you and good night.”

13 Comments

Many of the things the states need to know
by: Hifiman, 05-23-2009

This week I will be wrapping up state testing in just a few short days. We've done one day of fitness testing, two days of language arts testing, two days of math testing, and then we will finish with two days of science testing. It's been a long haul all year long and now that I'm just about over the finish line it's time for a bit of reflection on these tests.

I notice all the information that needs to be bubbled in on the first page of their answer sheet. First name, last name, middle initial, sex, date of birth, grade, the length of each toe, a growth chart for fingernails, and favorite snack foods. I don't know why the state needs the information asked for, all I know is that someone wants it. But to be fair there's so much more information they need in order to accurately assess each student's performance.

The first thing we need is an attendance section to bubble in. The state needs to factor in how many days of school the student actually attended. Of course they should also be aware of all the days the student came in late and missed half of the math instruction as well. We also need a section to bubble in the total number of hours slept during the school year. I have too many kids telling me about the Nightmare on Elm Street movie marathons they stayed up until two in the morning watching. The state needs to know how many of these kids take half a day catching up on their missed sleep before they're awake enough to pay attention to the day's lesson.

We also need a section for overall student health. The state needs to know how many times the student showed up to school during the coldest part of winter without so much as a sweatshirt (see attendance). We also need to document how many of them eat breakfast before coming to school, but then again, we also need to document how many of them ate breakfast at school when Pop Tarts, donuts, cinnamon rolls, Uncrustables, chocolate chocolate chip muffins, and chocolate milk were served. This also needs to be cross-referenced with the number of sugar crashes experienced before the first recess. Then we need to document the number of one-pound bags of Hot Cheetos and Takis are consumed during the first recess and cross-reference with the subsequent lethargy they experience a half hour after class resumes. We also need a section to account for the number of missed hours from frequent restroom breaks and faked illnesses to get to the nurse for a chance to go home with mom.

Speaking of mom, the state needs to know about the child's home life too. Are parents supportive and involved? Do they know where the school is? Can they at least narrow it down to a specific city? Are the parents willing/able to help with homework? There needs to be a section to bubble in whether or not the parent attended conferences. We need a section to let the state know if the parent has control of the child or if it's the other way around.

The state also needs to know about the psychological profile of the student. Does the student view class time as a major inconvenience between recesses? Does the student feel as if his/her sole purpose on campus is to terrorize the other students. And if so - please reference the section about the parents.

No student's answer sheet for the state test would be complete without some data about the teacher. We need a section to note the number of instructional hours lost in preparation of the required dog and pony show for the numerous district walkthroughs. We need a section to list the number of instructional hours lost to work with highly paid consultants who simply cite research findings yet never seem to have a clue as to who actually did the research. We also need to document the lost instructional hours for the endless trainings that are so poorly organized we actually feel as if we have lost prior knowledge upon completing them. We need to document the number of staff meetings we attended in which we analyzed classroom data for the district only to have it wind up in someone's round file cabinet just so someone could check it off that it was done.

We also need a section to document the number of times we were observed throughout the year by admin (see dog and pony show). We also need a section to document the number of hours spent attempting to get services for a student, only to have some help offered at the end of the year - after testing - if that.

We also need a section to quantify the number of phone interruptions during the middle of a lesson and then quantify the total number of hours we spend trying to get the lessons back up to the same momentum after the calls. We also need a fundraiser section to document the number of fundraising assemblies we attended during the year that took time away from instruction, as well as the hours spent afterwards trying to distract them from the dreams of limo rides and instantly useless and breakable toys in an effort to teach the next lesson. This section must include lost instructional time spent trying to collect the fundraisers when they are due. We also need a section to document the forty-two picture days (including makeup days) and the unavoidable interruptions as a result. Of course we also can't forget the lost instructional time spent collecting money, collecting unpurchased photos, sending second notices home, sending final notices home, sending a final written letter begging for either the pictures or the money back so the office will get off my back and let me keep my job.

Hey! Jobs! We need a section letting the state know if we've been RIFed and are so consumed with the thought of losing our home that we cannot, try as we might, be as effective in the classroom.

So I think we've got a good start here on the real data the state needs to know to effectively assess just how well the student is learning given the circumstances. It's more of a rough draft. I'm debating whether or not the state needs to know how much time the students' spend digging for boogers or making cootie catchers.

13 Comments

Butts are bringing down the world
by: Hifiman, 05-16-2009

I recently rejoined my neighborhood gym. It's been about a year since I've been there. Nothing has changed. They still want their money up front and they still hand out the scratchy towels. I still want to suggest that I would gladly pay a bit more if they would use fabric softener, but I pretend to be manly while I'm there, so I say nothing.

Going back to the gym was something I had to do in stages. First I stopped in after work and paid my membership for the year. I thought that was a great first workout on its own so I headed home right after that. The next day I didn't go because I needed some new sweats. I stopped at my local Tents R Us and bought a two pairs for those months when I don't feel like doing my laundry. It wasn't until the third day that I finally decided to go work out.

My first workout wasn't so bad. They gym hasn't changed. I decided to do a few minutes on the treadmill to warm up. Once I started to glisten I decided to switch things up and go work on some of the weight machines. Within a few moments I remembered why I don't like them - they're heavy and I always have to reduce the weight from the setting of the previous person. I used to just follow little old ladies so I could use their settings, but even then I found many of them were too buff for me and I still had to reduce the weight. So after a little humiliation on the weights I went back for a few more minutes on my favorite treadmill - the one in the back row nearest the window. I like to look out the window and look at the cars slowly rolling around the towne center parking lot. Eventually I took a little more notice of the woman on the treadmill directly in front of me and that's when I started to realize there's a problem in this world.

This woman chose an interesting outfit. She was wearing these black leotards that clung to every nook and cranny on the lower half of her body. I also noticed that she probably wasn't wearing any underwear because these leotards went ALL the way up her butt. It was amazing - I mean - disgusting. She left almost nothing to the imagination, but still, I tried to imagine a lot. It was about this time that I started glistening again and wanted to go do something else in the gym, but I couldn't bring myself to leave. So I stayed a bit longer.

At this point I didn't care so much about cars in the parking lot anymore. I was barely cognizant of the recent episode of Car Talk playing on my iPod. There was really only one thing on my mind, well two - the leotard and my labored breathing. It was the labored breathing that was worrisome.

I'm a forty-two year old teacher who, including subbing, has been teaching a bit over five years, which means I'm really more like fifty-three. Then of course there's the being fat thing, and the couch potato thing. This means I'm actually more like seventy-four. A seventy-four year old man can't be subjected to this in a gym. Try as I might the treadmill can only be set to run so slowly before it turns off. So I kept chugging along - for my own health of course.

Eventually my own wheezing was worrying people and I didn't want them calling 911, so I forced myself to leave and try something else. I did, but eventually I needed to work on my cardio some more so I went back to my favorite treadmill and leotard to continue my workout. At this point I'm past glistening and well on my way towards dizzy and everything going black. I had had enough so I stopped my workout and left for home. Miss Leotard was still running in place.

You know I'm just not healthy enough to endure a workout like this. It's dangerous for me. I have my family to think of. Someone needs to be responsible. I could sue Miss Leotard, but that's risky. I don't know how much money she has. It might not be worth my time.

I could sue the gym, but it's a local gym. It's nice, but it's not a national chain. I could get some money, but not enough for the Viper I've always wanted.

Maybe I could sue the store where Miss Leotard bought her outfit. It's likely it's a national chain with lots of money. The store's salespeople really should have insisted Miss Leotard not only buy a pair of underwear to wear with the leotards, they probably should have insisted she wear some sort or shorts over them too. In fact, just to be certain she knows what underwear is for they should have actually instructed her on their use and certified her underwear proficient before letting her out of the store. I think I have a case. Anyone know a good lawyer?

This issue isn't just limited to the gym and Miss Leotard either. At school yesterday the playground supervisors stopped me to complain about my student I call Miss Hootchie Mama. Miss Mama was getting into some drama with a girl from another class who obviously shops at the same clothing stores as Miss Mama. The bell had rung so I took Miss Mama back to class to get the rest of this story that I'm told centers around a fight over a boy. Miss Mama tells me a long, drawn out story that is full of so many tangents I can't even begin to understand just what's going on. Apparently today's incident started at the water fountain near the bathrooms. She saw one of my male students who in her terms "picked his butt." This prompted her to say, "Ewww." This in turn was thought to be directed towards the other girl Miss Mama was having issues with and that's when the drama unfolded.

So there you have it. Two innocent people who have had their lives needlessly complicated by someone else's butt. Something needs to be done. In the meantime I'll try to go on with my life and continue working out. Not right now though. I need to go back in the afternoon and see if Miss Leotard is there.

2 Comments

"B" is for Boobs
by: Hifiman, 05-14-2009

Last Thursday and Friday my class spent some time working on Mother's Day cards. I cut Pink and White construction paper into an appropriate size for them to fold in half. I also had various other colors of construction paper for them to use as they saw fit. My vision was that they would either use colored pencils to decorate their cards with, or they would use their imaginations and cut up the construction paper into flowers and hearts and glue them on their cards. Almost everyone chose the latter. They made really nice cards too. One boy's card was particularly good. If there was a museum for elementary art somewhere his card would be in the main exhibit. When the project was done we had lots of scraps to throw away. Most made it to the trash, but some scraps, for whatever reason, didn't. Today I had a scrap that didn't make it to the trash delivered to me in an attempt to get someone in trouble.

I was at my computer assigning work for Accelerated Math. One of the boys in my class comes up to me in a hurry and shoves a pink piece of paper in my face. He excitedly tells me to look at it. I look at it and don't think much of it. It's a capital "B" cut out in pink paper. It's cut out nicely, but it's pretty unremarkable - the top of the "B" is cut a little smaller than the bottom - just what I would expect. The person making this letter also added blackened half-circles in the middle of the two loops in the "B" in lieu of cutting out such small openings. A wise choice in my opinion. So I look at this student and say, "This is nice. What did you want me to know about it?" He told me it was bad. "In what way?" I ask. He then takes the "B" out of my hand and points the loops downward and places it back in my hand and waits for me to react. "Okay, it's pointing down, but I don't understand what's so bad about that other than a "B" shouldn't point in that direction." He then specifically points to the blackened half-circles in the "B" and expected me finally understand his concern. I just gave him a perplexed look to let him know I didn't understand. He was about to explain, but then stopped himself and I assume thought differently of the situation and said, "Never mind" as he went back to his seat. Several other boys there were waiting for his return and had those same looks on their faces as they wondered why I didn't see what they saw in that letter "B." In a second or two they forgot about it and went back to work on their assignments.

I had to laugh to myself after this. These boys looked at this letter and someone made the connection with boobs. I sympathize with them. During the course of a day I probably see no less than forty objects that remind me of boobs. Hell, I can't even eat a bowl of Cheerios for breakfast without getting giggly because it looks like a bowl full of boobs looking back at me. But I've never stopped dead in my tracks at the sight of a giant letter "B" and get that warm, fuzzy feeling inside. That cutout of the letter "B" is now one of my prized classroom possessions. I put it in my desk drawer for future reference - pointed downward of course.

9 Comments

Moms are ruining future relationships
by: Hifiman, 05-13-2009

Yesterday in class we had a relaxing end to the day. I had several students who needed to finish their Mother's Day cards so I gave them time to do so. The rest were working on Accelerated Math. When we work on this math I sit in front of my laptop at the front of the class so I can monitor what the students are doing and print assignments as needed. A large table group of students sits in front of me and happened to be talking about plans for Mother's Day and what they wanted to buy their mothers. Eventually someone asks me about my plans. I mentioned that I still needed to go shopping, but hadn't yet decided on what to buy. I mentioned that there was a new video game for the XBOX I wanted. I thought I might buy it for her so I could play it. The only boy in the group smiled and gave me a nod for good thinking. The girls insisted I had to choose something else. I told them I would think about it.

One girl then offers the suggestion that I take my wife out for a romantic dinner. I said that was a great idea. Maybe we could go to KFC and try that new grilled chicken. They unanimously shot down that idea. Something about that choice not being right for the occasion. The next five minutes included a raging debate amongst them as to what the perfect Mother's Day should include and how I should go about it. Thankfully one of them revealed that she was hording a set of stamps that look like markers to decorate the cards with and immediately everyone's attention turned to that student. As the group fought for control of the stamps I started to think about their suggestions, and then it occured to me, mothers are planting the seeds of the continuing battle between the sexes.

These girls are only eleven years old. What do they know about romance and relationships? I watch them everyday. I intercept their notes being passed around the class. The most recent one I caught was an attempt to grill a male student as to whom he found desireable in the class. He reacted strongly to one suggestion with his reply, "Hell no!!" No, they are getting their information from someone else. It has to be their mothers. Moms, why don't you stay out of this? You're only setting them up for heartbreak.

These girls already have high expectations of the way relationships should work. In that brief discussion I mentioned earlier there was talk of sit-down restaurants, flowers - roses to be exact (do they have any idea how much roses cost?), diamond earrings and necklaces, hand written cards, etc. Guys don't have a chance. Sure, we do the romance thing in the beginning. Some of us are able to keep the charade up longer than others, but eventually we all give it up at some point. It feels so good too. Sort of like that same feeling you have when you've had a really big dinner and then finally get to change into your stretchy pants.

So I don't know - romance. I guess I could try. I'll have to think about it, but it's been so long. Maybe showering before sex - that sounds romantic enough.

5 Comments

Watch out for split peppers
by: Hifiman, 05-13-2009

Today I finally wrapped up my BTSA program. I've got everything I need to clear my credential and I am now a real teacher. During the two-hour meeting after school today we had an opportunity to think about our journey up to this point. It was a bit cheesy in the way they did it, but still, it served its purpose as I tried to remember my first day with my own class.

My first class was a group of second graders. I had taken over the class at the end of the first trimester from a disgruntled teacher who had pulled some strings to get a transfer. I had one day to learn the ropes with the teacher who instead decided to leave me with his class so he could interrupt every other teacher on campus during their instruction to say goodbye. I felt like a sub. The kids thought of me as their sub too. It took almost the whole remainder of the school year for me and them to feel like I was their actual teacher. But try as I might I really don't remember much of that year at all. I barely remember the students. It's a strange realization I had today. But I'll tell you what I do remember. I remember my second year with amazing clarity.

That second year was actually last school year. In that year I realized just how tough teaching could be. I started the year so optimistic. I knew the infamous reputation of my class months before I met any of them. They fully lived up to the reputation that preceded them. I remember going to bed every night thinking about two things - how to manage their behavior when all they wanted to do was terrorize the school, and how to keep their test scores up because every time I walked by the principal that's all she would ever ask me in lieu of "hello." I woke up every morning to the same thoughts. Even worse, I spent many nights dreaming about that class. Mostly they were nightmares. By the time the school year came to a close I was drained and beaten. I didn't have any positive effect on anyone in that class and what's more, I really didn't care at that point. For months I had lived in fear of an uncertain future as I was laid off.

This year is great. My class is the best class anyone could hope for. And truth be told, I feel I deserve it. I enjoy every one of them, including the ones I can always count on to get in trouble. I like how easy going they are and I'm thrilled that they get my humor. I also love the comedy they provide.

A few weeks ago we were playing silent ball - something we rarely get to do. As one of my students reaches for the ball that was thrown to him he lets out a loud fart. Of course the whole class broke into hysterical laughter that effectively ruined any hope of continuing the game. Today we had to complete our physical fitness testing. My students were partnered up and taking turns doing sit-ups. One of my students was putting a lot of effort into his and let out a loud fart for everyone to hear. The whole class once again erupted into laughter. We could only continue once everyone caught their breath.

After a while the only thing left to do was the flexed arm hang. We walked out to the playground and lined up by the monkey bars. One by one each of the kids came up to take their turn hanging from the bars while keeping their chin above it. My second from the last student walked up, climbed the two rungs to position himself to grab the bar, and then swung out as he kept his chin up high. He lasted about fifteen seconds. The whole time his body kept gently rocking back and forth. Finally, he relaxed his grip and dropped to the ground, but unfortunately he did so while his legs were rocking backwards. His legs straddled the metal rungs on his way down and he landed squarely on the twins. Now normally I'm very concerned when a student gets hurt. I make sure they are okay and get them to the nurse if they need her, but that was hard to do today. I can't explain it, it was just something about the way this happened to him, but it was hilarious. The entire class burst out laughing just as if he too had farted in front of them. I desperately tried to keep from laughing too, but it was impossible to do. As I approached him on the ground to check him out, one of my students yelled, "He split his peppers!" I lost it with that one. So did the injured student. He jumped up and added his own pepper jokes.

Last summer I read where some people admitted to crying when their year was up with their class. No, I don't see myself crying when they leave, but I'll be forever grateful to them. They've brought true joy to me this year and they have made last year's nightmares go away.

11 Comments

Where Teachers Fear to Tread
by: Hifiman, 04-21-2009

I wrote most of this last night as I was waiting in my class for open house to begin. Open house is usually uneventful so I couldn't hope to find inspiration there. I'm tired and I'm not sure of my punctuation tonight.



Welcome back everyone to another episode of Teacher Survivor: USA – NCLB. I’m your host Mike Hifiman. Last week’s challenge pitted team Gonna Lose against team Can’t Win as both teams struggled to get through parent/teacher conferences with their team and keep their sanity. Mostly they struggled to complete the challenge without involving local law enforcement. In the end team Can’t Win barely managed to come out ahead and win the challenge. Team Gonna Lose struggled and had to attend tribal council. In the end Linda was voted off.

Today’s episode provides a new challenge for our Survivors as they compete to Outlast, Outteach, and Outscheme each other to be the one true Teacher Survivor.

The district’s music program has still not been funded. So now cue the music that is provided to us by two fifth graders who snuck out of class with their recorders.

“Welcome back Survivors. As you can see team Can’t Win, team Gonna Lose voted off Linda in last week’s tribal council. I want you all to know that after she was voted out Linda decided to retire that evening. In the week since doing so her hair has started to grow in again, she has no need for botox injections, she’s standing a full inch taller, and I kid you not, she even smiles.”

Marge has a faraway look in her eyes as she tries to remember a time when she could genuinely smile. In fact, she realizes that she only really smiles when she daydreams about a society without laws so she can tackle kids and their parents from behind and at the knees.

“Well Survivors we’re down to just five, which means you’ve made it to the merge. Drop your buffs.”

Alma’s confused. “Hey Mike, we don’t have buffs.”

“Oh, you’re right. I forgot that wasn’t in the budget. Well, in any case you are now one team and from this point forward you will be known as team RIFed Any Day Now.”

“Okay Survivors, you don’t have much time before you start your next challenge as a new team. By now you know that teaching has many ups and downs. You’ve experienced some of the worst teaching has to offer in last week’s parent/teacher conference challenge. This week you’ll participate in the one challenge that all teachers dread – you’ll take the school’s second graders – all eighty of them – on a field trip to the Touch Nothing, Everything’s Breakable Museum only fourteen miles away - or sixty minutes by school bus. The students barely have an idea what a museum is, but they’re excited and already worked up into a frenzy. Help is available though. You will have six parent volunteers to assist you.”

Marge is obviously upset. She knows what field trips can be like and wants no part of one. Bill instantly threw up when he heard the word field trip. Maggie opened a pill bottle of unknown contents and immediately swallowed half of it. Interestingly enough Alma seems unaffected by the news and Tom, perhaps because of his lack of experience, is actually excited about the challenge. Maggie took her pill bottle, threw it at Tom’s head, and called him an idiot.

“Whoa! Obviously many of you have very strong feelings about this challenge. I hope you’ll be able to come together as a team. Remember, you’ll be seeing me at tonight’s tribal council and someone will be voted off.”

“Good luck Survivors! The challenge begins now!”

The Survivors rush off to the second grade wing of the school to gather their group of second graders together. Tom is keeping his distance from Maggie. Maggie seems to be a bit wobbly on her feet.

The Survivors meet up with their students. This is the one day of the year every student is in attendance and on time for school. They are all ready to begin their trip; however, the busses are late. There’s also another problem – only three of the parent volunteers have actually shown up even though each one was contacted the day before and assured the school they would be there without fail.

Alma takes charge and passes out name tags to all the adults to put on the students. The name tags are specially designed with space age adhesives that are guaranteed to instantly bond with all surfaces. Unfortunately they will not stick to children’s clothing. Within minutes of placing the name tags on all the students half of them are busily playing with their new sticky toys. The other half already lost their name tags. Most of them are later discovered on the bottom of everyone’s shoes. Thankfully Marge’s experience comes into play and she whips up some name tags to be worn around their necks using some red yarn. It seemed ideal until the team discovered that most of the students refuse to wear that particular shade of red and won’t cooperate.

Marge has that faraway look again as she daydreams of placing each and every kid in a headlock while she tags them like cattle.

The process of getting the students ready is considerably slowed by the fact that none of the parent volunteers seem to realize that “volunteer” actually means they are supposed to be here to help out.

Eventually the busses arrive and the final preparations are made. Every student has been directly asked three separate times if they need to use the bathroom. They all insist they don’t.

As the team is loading the kids on the bus Tom takes a look around inside one and doesn’t remember the seats being so small. Tom is doing a great job for a rookie. He’s loading the kids from the back of the bus first, and toward the front. He barely notices their constant complaints as they insist they can’t sit in the assigned seat because of a specific person already sitting there, or because it’s near the hump of the wheel well, or because some insist they can feel a pea that’s been placed in the stuffing by a seat manufacturer that hates kids. Unfortunately kids did switch seats every time Tom turned his back for an instant. Some moved across the aisle. Others just crawled under the seat in front of them.

Once all the students were in the busses, the parent volunteer/sightseers were seated, and the final head count began, there were no less than twenty students who insisted they had bathroom emergencies and needed to be let off. Once that was taken care of Marge walked the aisle to do the final head count. By the time she was halfway to the front of the first bus she had already identified five kids that wouldn’t bother her if they wound up getting lost at the museum and didn’t make it back. One student insisted on making nonstop farting noises, which stirred up the whole group of kids. Marge took off his name tag and told him he didn’t need one. He was special.

Once everyone was seated Tom tried to wedge himself in a seat and couldn’t get his legs to fit. He found that he could only sit by turning his knees to the side. It made him think of riding side saddle on a horse. He spent most of the next forty-five minutes wondering if he could see up the skirt of a woman riding side saddle as she galloped by. He really missed Jenna.

All the kids were very excited on the way to the museum. They kept asking all the usual questions one would expect them to ask, like how far is it? How much longer till we get there? Are there any weapons I can buy there with the sixty dollars my parents gave me to spend?

Maggie didn’t seem bothered by any of this. On closer inspection we can see that she’s asleep under her sunglasses. She’s drooling a bit.

Seventy-five minutes later the team had traveled the fourteen miles to the museum and had entered the parking lot. It was a bit longer than expected because the bus drivers both spent fifteen minutes in the school parking lot conferring with each other and checking items off on their clipboards. They were probably just trying to work up the nerve to get in the busses.

Once the busses were emptied no less than forty kids were hyperventilating from the excitement and anticipation of the field trip. The students were divided into smaller groups and some of these groups were assigned to the parent helpers/in the ways. One parent seemed quite put out that she was expected to actually watch a group of students. Another parent willingly took charge of a group, but then quickly grabbed her child’s hand and disappeared into the museum on her own. The third parent hung back in the inky shadows (that’s for you Tom and Ray) and seemed to think her role was more of a group observer than participant.

Once inside the museum the students looked at a display of Native American art and thought it was cool. They all fought for space to get up close to see it and were quite excited until they realized they couldn’t touch any of it. Apparently explaining this to the students three times a day for the previous three weeks wasn’t enough to convince them that the teachers really meant it.

Alma did a great job of maintaining control of her group and made sure everyone had a chance to see. She pointed out some of the tribal art and then showed the kids her own tribal tattoos on her left arm, her right arm, across her back and up her neck, around both calves, and on each toe. When she was bending over to show them her feet Tom and his group of students happened to come by and Tom noticed a large tramp stamp barely visible on Alma. Tom told Alma he thought it was a good idea that he and his group follow her around a bit. He would bring up the rear.

By the time the students had seen the third display their enthusiasm for the museum completely disappeared. Bill found that his group of students found more interest in the bits of trash they found on the floor. There was a group fight over a couple of straws that they wanted to use as make-believe weapons.

Marge and Maggie teamed up with their groups to tour the museum. By the time they rounded the first corner they already had numerous complaints from kids claiming they were tired and wanted to know when they would do something fun. Marge was obviously frustrated with the group and told them would do something fun when they moved out and got a job. Maggie seemed to barely notice her surroundings or the kids as she frequently bumped face first into a wall here and there.

After about a half hour in the museum nearly every kid insisted they were near death from starvation and wanted their lunch. Marge caught site of the parent volunteer/deserter who took off with her child on her own far off across the museum. It looked like the kid was holding a large soda and eating a bag full of candy. The group of students who barely notice any details of the exhibits have all seen the kid with the soda and candy and are now continuously begging for soda and candy. Marge relies on her years of experience in teaching and ignores their pleas as if she doesn’t hear them. Maggie is ignoring their pleas as well, but it’s mostly because she has now stretched out the floor of a wildlife exhibit. She’s fluffed up a raccoon and is using it as a pillow. Marge is obviously upset by this, but leaves Maggie behind.

A few minutes later we see Bill, the one parent volunteer who has actually stayed with her group, and their two groups of students. They seem to have them under control until their students saw the other parent volunteer/slacker with her child who was now drinking another soda and happily munching on a third bag of cookies. This prompted a twenty minute public disturbance by a bunch of eight-year-olds who had now gone an hour and twenty minutes without any sugar or caffeine. Three children were having DTs and insisted they could feel bugs crawling all over their skin. As Bill was quieting the group and just about ready to get them moving again one child spotted a packet of sugar near a trash can and a fight ensued as everyone battled for the packet. One of the children with DTs commanded his bugs to attack the other children.

Tom and Alma weren’t having any better success. Their students have been chanting “This is boring,” for nearly ten minutes now. Eventually all of the groups met up and decided to go outside to the grassy area and have lunch. All the kids cheered, but several insisted they might not be able to walk the hundred yards to get outside and eat because they were overcome with hunger. Twenty minutes later the whole group was outside and the sack lunches provided by the school had been passed out. The lunched consisted of an Uncrustable peanut butter and jelly sandwich, one apple, one juice box, and a small bag of chips. Most students still trimmed off the “crust” of their Uncrustable, took two bites, and tossed it aside. The chips were inhaled, the juice boxes spilled all over the tables, on each other and on every adult who was given the impossible task of poking the damn straw through the f – ing box. The apples were used as balls for a game that was not so much “catch” as it was “aim for a head when someone’s not looking and throw.”

Once the lunch mess was cleaned up the students were then invited/forced to use the restroom. It was a great opportunity for them to play with the sinks and cool off for a bit. Tom and Bill took turns taking boys from the main group to the restroom and then watching their nails grow in front of their eyes as they waited for them.

Alma and Marge were doing the same with the girls. Alma asked where Maggie was, Marge said she didn’t know. Both did however, notice the parent volunteer/absconder with her child at a bench in the picnic area. Her child was now chugging soda out of a Coke bong and eating from a five-pound bag of Hot Cheetos while the rest of the kids stare at them.

Eventually the bathroom breaks are completed, but not before the students notice the one thing teachers dread most on any field trip – the gift shop. As the students are just beginning to organize and riot, Tom and Alma volunteer (after Marge snarled at them for even looking in her direction) to take the students with money to the gift shop. After five minutes Tom has already answered fifty “Do I have enough money for this.” questions. The ones who are told no keep asking anyway. Apparently they are hoping their money will miraculously be fruitful and multiply. Alma is trying to keep the students orderly as they browse, but when a group of boys sees a bin of plastic swords a fight breaks out as they all scramble to find the one perfect identical sword. In the corner of the shop there’s an ear piercing scream when three girls find notepads and ink stamps. Unfortunately there’s only one pink teddy bear stamp and they too fight for it. One girl is literally foaming at the mouth as she beats down the other two girls to wrestle it free. She walks over to Tom with her eyes glazed over and asks him, “Do I have enough money for this?”

An hour later there are just two students left in the gift shop. One can’t decide whether to spend his money on a pack of pencils with lions and tigers on them, or a pack of plastic lions and tigers. The other child has grabbed half the store and placed the items on the counter. He’s having trouble deciding whether to use the $100 bill his dad gave him, or simply charge it with the credit card his mom gave him just in case. Eventually he decides to use plastic and asks that everything be boxed up and shipped to his house. Five minutes later the other child has chosen to take the pack of pencils and comes up to Tom to ask if he has enough money. He doesn’t, which prompts him to start the process all over again. In a fit of rage Tom goes off to find Maggie and see if she’ll give him the other half of the bottle of pills she swallowed.

At this point the outing concluded and the children are taken to the bus. Now they are fussing because they insist there’s some corner of the museum they didn’t get to see and complain about. They are loaded onto the buss. The parent from the inky shadows (this is now twice Click and Clack) mysteriously appears and takes a seat near a window. She looks exhausted from all her hard work. Then the parent volunteer/runaway shows up with her child in tow and takes a seat near the front. Just as the last student is seated Tom and Maggie appear. Tom drags Maggie onto the bus, but she’s dead weight and he can’t get her in a seat. He just lays her out in the middle of the aisle. He too now seems very serene as he melts into seat. He’s so relaxed he doesn’t notice that he didn’t sit side saddle and now may be permanently wedged into the seat. Marge is about the begin the final head count, but her feet are hurting, she has a headache, and honestly, at this point she doesn’t care if one or two get left behind.

The bus ride back is fairly uneventful except for the child of the parent volunteer/deserter. She apparently can’t handle three bladder buster sized sodas, five pounds of Hot Cheetos, a full bag of gummi worms, three ring pops, three bags of cookies, and half a gram of apple. She vomits all over the bus. Tom looked at the vomit running past his shoe on the floor and simply admired the colors as he drifted off to sleep.

Once back at school the students are quickly unloaded. Each of the parent volunteers immediately leave with their own children without signing them out of the office. Team RIFed Any Day Now waits with the remaining children as they look for their parents. More than an hour later the last parent finally shows to pick up her child. The day’s challenge is over.

Later that evening team RIFed Any Day Now walks into the cafeteria. Marge and Alma lead the way. Tom wobbles his way in behind them and Maggie is wondering when their challenge is going to start.

“Welcome Survivors. You’ve had a long day. How did it go?

“Well Mike, it wasn’t so bad,” said Alma.

Marge glared at her.

“Marge, I saw you give a look of disgust towards Alma. Why?”

“Eighty second graders Mike. Need I say more?”

“You didn’t like the challenge then?”

“Okay, maybe I wasn’t clear. Eighty kids. We’re talking eight-year-old kids. If you don’t get it I can’t explain it to you.”

“Fair enough.”

“Tom, how did the team perform in the challenge?”

“Mmblemble…mmblemb. Pretty colors….”

“Forget it Mike,” Marge said, “He flipped out in the gift shop and disappeared after that. I think he went to find Maggie.”

“Maggie, what happened when Tom found you?”

“Huh? Where? When? I don’t know. We went on the field trip?”

“Hmmm….Okay then, let’s get to the vote”

“Wait a minute Mike,” Marge said, “Retirement sounds good to me too. I’m outta here. That was my last field trip.”

Marge walks off and for the first time since we’ve seen her she is actually smiling.

“Well Survivors, this was yet another unexpected turn of events. Obviously Marge has had it. Rest up and I’ll see you again at next week’s challenge.”

“Thank you for tuning in to this week’s episode of Survivor. We’ll see you next week if we can avoid a RIF.”

11 Comments

Sorry
by: Hifiman, 04-14-2009

That last post was the second time in recent days that I forgot to use the diamond to keep it short on the main page.

0 Comments

No point in keeping things confidential
by: Hifiman, 04-15-2009

Earlier in the school year I wrote about my problem with my school tracking student performance on the district tests. We had to set goals for each student and post these goals on the wall in our classrooms. Additionally the students had to have their goals posted somewhere on their desks so they could easily refer to their goals. I tried hard to make this as confidential as I possibly could. My data wall lists only numbers, not names. My students know their own number and they have written their goals in the back of their journal so that others won't see it. Overall I thought I did okay given the circumstances, but today I realized I just didn't do well enough.

Soon after the results were posted from our last district assessment of the year the teachers were asked to submit the names of the students who met their goals. I submitted mine, but was told that I had to be more specific and post if they jumped one band or more (climb from basic to proficient, etc.). So I made those changes and thought nothing more of it.

This week it was announced over the P.A. for the morning announcements that the students meeting their goals would receive a prize, which I had already handed out. Additionally there was a random drawing of students who met their goals in both LA and Math to win an even better prize. It was also mentioned that there was a bulletin board posting the names of all students who had met their goals and information as to where it is located. Even better, the students who made their goals will have their names announced during the upcoming morning announcements for everyone to hear.

Later in the day I did see the bulletin board that was spoken of. My list of students names that were emailed to admin was printed and displayed along with the other classes. So now I feel like all my efforts to maintain the self-esteem of everyone in my class has been completely wasted. My efforts were largely undone by my own email. It's really sad that this is what we have come to. And I don't blame the admin for one second. All of this is desperation in an attempt to comply with NCLB. When laws put people's backs up against the wall bad things are unavoidable. I hope I'm around when the pendulum swings the other way and bookshelves are lined with books describing the fall and ultimate collapse of the American education system.

4 Comments

I've got hand
by: Hifiman, 04-13-2009

My wife just called to say they've passed through customs and the group is just waiting on the bus. It's going to be a long ride from LAX, but they should be here in just a few more hours. I can't wait. It's also our anniversary. I bought her gift earlier today. I even bought a card. Just now I got back from the grocery store where I bought a foofy welcome home cake (Mostly because I was Jonesing for some sugar, but hey that's got to score some points, right?). I also bought a bouquet of roses that I artfully arranged in a vase that took me forever to find. The first one was too big and plain. The second one was prettier, but still too big. The third one I found is hideously ugly, but just the right size so I cleaned it off. Now I'm procrastinating as I try to figure out what to write on the card. I hate this part. I never have any idea what to write. I feel the pressure to be profound and sentimental (not my strong points) when really the only thing I want to say is "You still have great boobs."

As I'm waiting for inspiration I find myself thinking of the Seinfeld episode where George is desperately trying to keep the upper hand in his relationship. I've desperately missed my wife and can't wait to see her. I'm so happy she's home, but now I'm thinking I can't let on. Like George I've got hand. I don't want to jeopardize that. Hmmm. I don't want to get rid of the cake. It looks good. The anniversary gift can't be returned. The roses smell good. Maybe I need to mess the house up a little so it doesn't look like I've put in any effort.

7 Comments

No! You didn't tell me that.
by: Hifiman, 04-10-2009

I love grocery stores. I really do. It's not because I usually make a stop at the bakery department to get a quick boost of energy for the trip home. It's because I'm always amused by the people and their conversations. Yesterday I stopped at Staters to do some grocery shopping. As I'm walking through the parking lot I can hear a couple arguing. Not the loud yelling and causing a disturbance kind of thing, but rather the back and forth insistence that something wasn't communicated. The guy just kept saying, "No! You didn't tell me that." The woman kept insisting she did. I walked in the store ahead of them while they continued the argument.

I walked by the produce section, scanned it, and quickly reminded myself that nothing good to eat ever comes from there and moved along. By the time I stopped at the meat counter to select a side of beef for the evening meal I had forgotten all about that couple, but when I passed the dairy counter I could hear the same exact discussion still taking place down the aisle. "No! You didn't tell me." "Yes, I mentioned that to you three times this week." No! You didn't give me that information." Yes! You were right in front of me and nodded your head yes when I told you." "No! I would have remembered. You didn't."

I had to laugh as I went down the soda aisle to find just the right flavor and vintage to set off my meal of rare beef a la coronary. Eventually I wound up at the check stand. Who do you think showed up behind me? Yup, and the dialogue hadn't changed any except at this point they were no longer looking at each other while they kept repeating themselves. On the way out as me and two box boys are trying to lift the side of beef into the trunk I started to think how symbolic of marriage that couple's exchange was.

Yeah, marriage is about love, togetherness, sharing, growing old with someone, partners, best friends, yada, yada, yada. Whatever. No, marriage is really about digging in, standing your ground, and never giving in. I mean c'mon. By the time I left the store neither of them had their heart in the discussion anymore. Neither could really defend themselves because neither could really bring up concrete specifics to prove that the correct information was given and recieved. It was reduced to a battle of wills. To make the other cry uncle first. The best part? Wait until a month or two down the road. Something else will happen that will leave the door open for someone to bring up this incident in an effort to show a pattern. It's a never ending cycle. Thankfully for people like myself who have failing memories we have Blackberries that we can log each transgression against us in our calendars. We can take arguments into the digital age.

Man, this makes me miss my wife. I know she's coming home Saturday, but she didn't tell me what time I was supposed to pick her up.

3 Comments

I might be raising Jerry Seinfeld
by: Hifiman, 04-03-2009

Well, there's been a lot happening at home this last week. First off, I found out just two days ago that my son broke up with his girlfriend. He's fifteen and she was his first girlfriend. They dated for something like two months which at that age might as well be two years. I don't know what happened. All he will say is that it's been coming for a while and it was a mutual decision.

I had actually been worried about this day since I first learned he was seeing someone. I was concerned how he would react to a breakup, but I was prepared to instinctively say, "Go talk to your mother." on a moment's notice. It turns out I didn't have to give it a second thought. He seems to be as emotionally detached from this breakup as anyone could possibly be. I think maybe we've raised a junior Jerry Seinfeld.

Now since he won't offer any information as to why they decided to break up I've had to wonder about this myself. She wasn't a close-talker, a high-talker, or a low-talker. I never saw her eat her peas one at a time. She didn't double dip, never yada, yada, yadaed anything, and pop-ins weren't an issue. She didn't have man hands, didn't call him schmoopie, never wore the same dress for days on end, and wasn't named Mulva. So I just don't get it. Still, I admire his ability to be emotionally disconnected. Rare for guys, right?

Today I'm feeling a bit out of sorts. Last night my wife and son left for China with his school's band. I'm very excited for the both of them, but very aprehensive too. I dropped them off at his school last night. We had to be there at 7pm and they were due to depart via school bus at 8pm for LAX. Their plane left at 1am and the first leg of their flight is 12 hours. Then they switch planes for another 3 hour flight. I hate flying. I'm a nervous flyer and I find myself worrying about them on this trip as well. Part of me wanted to go, but honestly I would have freaked out before the bus ever made it to the airport. I thought being surrounded by a huge crowd of elementary kids was bad. That's nothing compared to three busloads of high school kids all amped up. I would have to insist everyone be sedated and an extra big dose saved for me.

Today I feel sad about being separated. Not the kind of extreme sadness one experiences when Gordon dominates a race and then loses an engine, but still, sad nonetheless. I'm not sure why. They've been gone before and I usually can't wait to have the house by myself, but it's never been for this long. I plan on treating myself to an overnight stay in Vegas pretty soon here to ease the pain - one margarita and a hand of blackjack at a time.

6 Comments

The horrors of parent/teacher conferences
by: Hifiman, 04-13-2009

Welcome once again to this season of Teacher Survivor: USA – NCLB. I’m your host Mike Hifiman. Last week Tom led team Can’t Win to a victory in spite of a surprise walkthrough. Meanwhile, there was an unfortunate turn of events for new teacher Leslie over at team Gonna Lose. She had a difficult day and was unprepared for the endless roadblocks she encountered in the seemingly impossible task to equip her room for instruction on the district’s dime. Eventually things proved too much for her to handle and Leslie had to be admitted into a facility for evaluation. We’ve learned that this is apparently quite common for new teachers. In fact, the head of the facility, Dr. Benzpaymentzdue informs me that the problem is that anyone truly interested in pursuing the teaching profession is by definition mentally unstable. It’s just a matter of time before they require the services of an institution such as his. In the end team Gonna Lose lost, but avoided tribal council because of Leslie’s need for psychiatric intervention.

Today’s episode presents the survivors with more challenges as they compete to Outlast, Outteach, and Outscheme each other to be the one true Teacher Survivor.

There’s no music to cue this week. The district chose to cut funding for the music program in light of recent budget cuts.

“Welcome back Survivors. It’s good to see everyone rested up. I know you are all worried about Leslie. We’re sad to learn that she may never be able to step foot in a classroom again, but the good news is that she’s expected to recover well enough by the end of the week to earn fifteen minutes without restraints out in the yard every day.”

After hearing this it’s obvious that Alma’s jealous of Leslie’s situation. She confides to Bill that she thinks it’s unfair that Leslie gets fifteen minutes of fresh air every day and doesn’t have to deal with any kids. Some people have all the luck.

“Ok Survivors let’s get ready for today’s challenge. Both teams have spent the entire week with a third grade classroom. You’ve gotten to know the students and understand a bit about their capabilities and their needs. Well, I hope you’ve been paying attention because in your next challenge you will not only arrange a schedule for parent/teacher conferences, but in two days you will actually be meeting with the parents to discuss their children’s academic performance. You will be judged by how many parents your team successfully meets with, how many parents are receptive to your team’s input, and by which team has the fewest parents threatening lawsuits and bodily harm.”

“Okay Survivors, Ready? Begin!”

Both teams rush to their classrooms to prepare.

Team Can’t Win have quickly made out a preliminary schedule for the conferences and printed them for the students. Each student was handed the appointment in a sealed envelope and watched as they put the envelope inside their agendas and then inside their backpacks. To make sure all appointment notices come back signed the team has offered each student a new pencil in the color of their choice if they bring them tomorrow.

Over at team Gonna Lose they’ve taken a different approach. After making a conference schedule Linda safety-pinned (only because Bill took the stapler out of her hand) the conference appointment schedules onto the front of each student’s shirt. Linda has years of experience and she knows that the kids won’t bring the conference slips back with the offer of a simple prize or threats of missed P.E. and recess. Instead, she warned them that anyone not bringing theirs back the next day would suffer the ultimate punishment – they would not have an opportunity to be line leader for the rest of the year.

The students collectively gasped at the thought.

The tribe members of team Can’t Win anxiously greeted their students the next day to find out how many conference appointments were accepted. Two students handed theirs in immediately and demanded their pencils, three more said they forgot, five students had no recollection that they were given anything to take home, and the rest said something to the tune of their parents wanting a different time and/or day, but they had no idea which day or time.

Maggie called the two students who had brought their conference slips back to come up and get their pencils. One student fussed that she didn’t like the choices offered and the other student couldn’t decide between the blue or purple pencil, and after making his choice he almost immediately came back asking for the other color instead. This left the rest of the students disappointed that they didn’t get a pencil and no less than four tried to create an uprising amongst the rest of the students by insisting that no one was told they had to bring the conference slip back to get a pencil.

Tom and Marge decided they couldn’t chance sending more conference notices home so they left Maggie alone with the class while they called parents to set up the appointments. Maggie didn’t want to take any chances so she opened the conversations by telling the parents there would be free childcare offered during the conferences. She just didn’t mention that childcare was in the form of letting the kids take a ball out to the playground and then letting the parents play an unexpected game of hide and seek with their child as they tried to find them when the conference is over.

They were successful in getting them scheduled, but they did have two parents insist on meeting at 7pm – well outside the hours offered. Still, it’s important to meet with the parents so they scheduled the conferences.

Team Gonna Lose had much better success. They received almost all the conference slips back and only had to make a couple of calls to set up the rest. One parent insisted she was only available sometime after 7:30pm. Linda explained to her that unfortunately the union and labor laws frowned on her working a fifteen hour day, but she was more than happy to schedule a conference call the following morning at 5am – the only time she had available. Fortunately the parent did see some room in her calendar if she “moved a few things around.”

Things seem set for both teams. The appointments have been made and confirmed with all parents who insist they will be in attendance. The only thing left to do is wait for tomorrow for the conferences to begin.

On the following day the first parents are starting to arrive on campus. Team Can’t Win gets lucky and all three of their first appointments arrive on time. Each team member meets with one parent in their own corner of the room.

Tom is meeting with a young mother to discuss her son. Unfortunately she’s also brought along her four year old as well. Tom is trying to discuss her son with her, but the younger sibling is creating a distraction by literally crawling all over mom and diverting her attention. At one point the child starts throwing a tantrum and screaming in a fit of rage because he can’t have a third bag of cookies to keep him quiet. The mother spends the next five minutes negotiating with the child and asking him to please use his words so they can resolve the issue. The conference has now gone five minutes over the allotted time and Tom still hasn’t covered most of the things he wants to communicate with the mother.

Maggie is also meeting with a couple in regards to their child’s performance in class. She starts out with several positive comments about their daughter before slipping in her concern that their daughter is quite mean to other children and frequently uses profanity towards them. The mother is very upset to hear this and has a very difficult time believing this could be true. She insists Maggie must be mistaken and that there’s just no f - ing way her daughter would use profanity. The father speaks up and agrees there’s no f - ing way their daughter uses profanity and if she is it must be because she’s hearing it from all the other f - ing kids in this f - ing school.

Marge is obviously frustrated with the parent she’s meeting with. The mother is barely listening as she busily texts half the planet on her cell phone. She pauses just long enough to mumble a barely audible “Uh-huh.” It’s on the tenth “Uh-huh” that Marge gives up and then reaches in her purse for her own cell phone and sends the following text to the mother: “G2sy fwiw ur dd says iccl about school. Hth.” Mom texted back, “Ok. Gtg.” and then left without another word.

Team Gonna Lose has also gotten a start on their conferences, but unfortunately they had two of the first three appointments show up ten minutes late. When the parents did arrive they were completely unapologetic and made sure to voice their opinion that these conferences were a big intrusion into their hectic schedule of balancing daytime soaps, Oprah, and their morning run to Starbucks.

Linda had luck with her first appointment and both parents showed. After a quick greeting she was about to begin, but was quickly interrupted because the first thing the parents wanted to know was how was their son being challenged in class. Linda described the curriculum and some of the projects the class has been working on. She also mentioned how the class was busily working on the construction of a particle accelerator that will be used to test string theory and thus unlock maybe five of the anticipated ten dimensions related to that theory. The parents were not impressed. They quickly pointed out that their son was special and therefore should be making his very own particle accelerator without any of the other “regular” children getting in the way. Linda tried to assure them that it was really more beneficial for everyone involved if the students worked together. Once again the parents insisted that this just wouldn’t do and then began to interrogate Linda about her credentials to ensure she was qualified to teach their son. Linda didn’t seem interested in playing along with them and informed them that their son seemed most interested by the challenge of pulling out the biggest booger he could find in his nose during morning instruction. The parents were upset by this news and stormed out of the classroom. On their way out Linda also felt the need to tell them she was impressed by the way he artfully arranges his boogers on his shirt and under his desk. That didn’t seem to help matters.

Alma’s conference appeared to be going well, but on closer inspection we see that the mother has dominated the conversation with unending anecdotes about her daughter. She was ten minutes into her daughter’s birthing story when Alma made a bold attempt to take control and steer the conversation back to academics, but then the mother pulled out a stack of photos to share and took control back.

Meanwhile, Bill is in his corner conducting his conference with a mother and father. He started off well by talking up many of the positive things he’s noticed about their son. The parents are impressed and are giving many thanks to Bill and his interest in their child. Then when their smiles couldn’t get any bigger, Bill mentions that their son is having great difficulty getting along with others in class. Just as he’s about to go into details the mother’s smile disappears and she wonders aloud why no teacher ever gives her son a break. She insists that there’s a conspiracy at the school between teachers, students, and other parents because this happens every year. Again Bill tries to bring up a few recent examples, but the mother would have none of it. He even tried to show her the bite marks belonging to her son on every desk within a twenty foot radius of her son’s desk, but again the mother insisted there was no proof it was her son. Then Bill made the mistake of actually pulling out a picture of her son’s teeth firmly clamped on the arm of his neighbor while the nurse is taking aim at him with a tranquilizer gun. Enraged, the mother insisted that it was the girl’s fault. She must’ve said something to make her child angry and provoke him, and then she stormed out of the classroom.

At this point Alma has now learned that her student has twenty-four cousins, five of whom live just twenty miles away and often visit on weekends for play dates. Alma is losing the will to live and is seriously contemplating ending it all by taking out the stud in her tongue and stabbing herself in the jugular vein with it.

The day is quietly coming to an end. Both teams come out of their classrooms to learn who has won the day’s challenge.

Team Can’t Win has finished most of their conferences with only minimal death threats. It’s been a long day for them since they had to schedule two late evening conferences for parents who just couldn’t attend any other time. They were both no-shows. It turns out one forgot, and the other wants to reschedule for Saturday at 9pm.

Team Gonna Lose has also nearly finished their conferences. They’re just waiting on Alma who’s still with the same parent. Alma is now curled up under the desk in the fetal position. The parent hasn’t noticed.

“Well teams you’ve had a long day. Can’t Win, you had some ups and downs. You did have a few no-shows, but overall you met with most of your students’ parents and communicated to them the information they needed.”

“Team Gonna Lose, you didn’t do so well. Linda, you upset the parents of your first conference. They felt that you failed their child because you didn’t properly meet his needs and challenge him in the classroom. They’ve already written a formal complaint to the superintendent and insist you have destroyed their child’s chances of getting into Harvard.”

“Yeah? Well, Mike, I challenged the kid alright. I tried to get him to use a Kleenex, but the little snot prefers to dig on his own.”

“Hmmm. Leslie, you might want to reconsider your statement. The parents have already sought legal council from the offices of Larry H. Parker. You know he won that one settlement forty years ago for $2.1 million, right?”

“Well, Team Gonna Lose, I’m sorry, but you lost this week’s challenge and I will see you at tribal council.”

Later that evening the members of team Gonna Lose somberly walk into the cafeteria with their uncapped dry erase markers and have a seat.

“Well team Gonna Lose, you find yourself about to lose another member tonight. Linda, what happened?”

“Mike, I’ve put in too many years as a teacher to put up with yet another parent who wants their kid challenged. You know on his last math test he only scored eighteen percent? Hell, the kid didn’t even spell his name right AND he had a big green booger stuck to the paper.”

“Alma, you had a bad day as well. You attended one conference and never successfully completed it. What happened?”

“I don’t know Mike. I tried. I honestly tried, but the woman never stopped talking. I can still hear her voice in my head.”

“Bill, your day didn’t go well either. You had some parents upset with you as well. Could you have done anything different?”

“Mike, those parents have already made contact with their lawyer. My lawyer tells me it’s best that I don’t talk about the situation at this point.”

“Fair enough. Let’s get to the vote.”

One by one each tribe member writes down a name – on paper supplied by them since the district’s budget doesn’t have any more funding for paper goods this year.

“Ok Survivors I’m going to read the vote and the person voted out will be asked to leave immediately.”

“The first vote – Linda.”

“The next vote – Alma.”

“That’s one vote Linda, one vote Alma. The next vote decides who leaves.”

Mike opens the next vote. “The next person voted off of Teacher Survivor is Linda. Linda please come up and let me cap your marker.”

“You come get it yourself Mike. I’m retiring in a few months and I’ve earned the right to not have to do anything, for anyone, anymore.” And she promptly leaves.

“Well team Gonna Lose you are down to two tribe members. Actually this is good news since the budget’s been cut again and we were going to have to RIF one of you tonight anyay. Rest up. Next week offers another challenge.”

“Okay, thank you for tuning into this week’s episode of survivor. Please remember to tune in next week since we’ve lost even more money from the budget and can’t afford any commercials to remind you. See you next week.”

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This week's episode of Teacher Survivor
by: Hifiman, 03-14-2009

Welcome once again to this season of Teacher Survivor: USA - NCLB. I'm your host Mike Hifiman. Let's recap last week. The first tribe, Can't Win, was led by new teacher Tom. Tom chose his team, but was immediately met by animosity from over his first choice Jenna. The producers and I are still baffled by this. We've looked at the footage and the edits and agree she had big talent. Perhaps it would have helped if the other contestants could have seen her audition video of her jumping on a trampoline to understand what an asset she really was. Unfortunately for Tom his teammates didn't agree that Jenna should be a part of the team and voted her out after their team suffered a humiliating defeat in their kindergarten classroom.

Team Gonna Lose was chosen by new teacher Leslie. Her tribe won by default, but ultimately was still unsuccessful as they too competed in the same challenge with a new kindergarten class. Even though they won they still fell short trying to meet the demands of NCLB. The bright spot in this unsuccessful first challenge is that both of the permanent kindergarten teachers for both classes fully plan to blame these contestants for any future failure of their students throughout the year.

Today’s episode offers new challenges to both teams as they fight to Outlast, Outteach, and Outscheme on their way to become the one true Teacher Survivor.

Cue the horrible music you would normally skip over if you had a DVR as both teams show up for the challenge.

“Welcome back Survivors to Our Budget’s Been Cut Again Elementary. Team Gonna Lose, you can see that Jenna’s been voted out of team Can’t Win in last night’s tribal council.”

Bill’s expression shows that he’s really ticked about that.

“Today’s challenge is simple enough. You won’t be going back to those kinder classes. Instead, you’ll spend the day teaching a second grade classroom. Each team will start off by planning the lessons for the day. Each team must cover all standards and ensure that all students have complete mastery of them before school is out for the day. You will each be provided with the district’s approved materials for the language arts, math, and science curriculum, but one bit of caution here, the materials approved by the state AND grossly overpaid for by the district, do not even begin to cover all the standards. Essentially these materials are nearly useless and you have to supplement them by your own means to ensure you’ve completely covered every standard. The funding for these supplemental materials is limited only by the amount each team member is willing to spend from his or her own paycheck. Oh, and please don’t expect any paid time to do this. You’re dedicated teachers. A job well done is its own reward.”

“Now team Gonna Lose, you have to sit one member out to make your teams even. Who’s it going to be, Leslie?”

“Mike, we’ve chosen to sit Alma out for today’s challenge.”

“Okay Survivors, you have one hour to plan before the start of school today. You will be judged on how well you teach your lessons and by how well your students master the standards. Remember, according to NCLB and the state standards, your second grade students must create an interdimensional rift in the space/time continuum (Yeah, I watch too much Star Trek. Engage!). This will allow time travel into the past so the government can have a second chance to figure out the seemingly impossible task of switching the country to digital TV transmission on time.”

“Ready? Begin!”

Both teams rush off to their respective classrooms.

Over at team Can’t Win the three contestants Tom, Marge, and Maggie have apparently come together as a team to avoid another embarrassing loss. Tom is creating mini lessons for small group instruction during language arts and math. Maggie is busy gathering manipulatives to be used during math instruction and she’s also preparing materials for today’s science lesson in which each student must design and construct their own working atom smasher – the first necessary step in meeting the NCLB requirement to excel in science and create that time rift. Unfortunately Maggie has just realized that even though students are required to pass the rest of the world in scientific research and development, the district has no money for even the most basic necessities like acquiring a bar magnet and a handful of iron filings to demonstrate a magnetic field.

In the meantime, Marge is busy piecing together the lesson plans for the day’s instruction. She has to plan very carefully if she’s to stick to the district’s ultra tight pacing guide, which doesn’t take into account student recess, lunch breaks, constant bathroom trips for microscopic bladders, weekends off, the endless interruptions on the classroom’s phone and PA, and the impromptu visits during the day by parents who want their child to be challenged. With just minutes to spare she’s done and ready for the class.

Over at team Gonna Lose they are preparing in similar fashion, but they did get off to a rocky start. Leslie took the lead on lesson planning, but got bogged down by the administration’s requirements to completely outline just how instruction will be differentiated right down to proving that the teacher will line up the students for lunch based on their individual dietary needs. Furious, Linda snatched the lesson plans from Leslie. Before Leslie could protest Linda told her that in the thirty-five years she’s been teaching not one administrator ever read any lesson plan turned in and on the off chance that one was read it would be forgotten before it ever made it into the trash, AND on the rare occurrence that there was ever a question about the plans few administrators could even consistently find the same classroom twice.

Bill has the task of gathering the math manipulatives the district says must be used for every math lesson, but he can’t find them in the classroom. Unfortunately no one seems to know where these manipulatives are kept on campus. He searches all over campus before he finally finds them in a closet in the corner of the school’s office. No one has ever opened and distributed them. He suffers an asthma attack after he blows an inch of dust off the top box and unfortunately must be temporarily taken out of the game to seek medical attention. The administration seems to be very concerned for his health. They don’t want a workers’ comp claim.

Meanwhile, Leslie has been told that the administration expects all students to have their own personal whiteboards in their desks to be used during instruction. She’s verified that there are enough whiteboards, but the set of dry erase markers have dried up. She runs to the office secretary to get some more. Unexpectedly though (yeah, right) the secretary is unwilling to give her more than three markers for a class of thirty-four. She is however, given the option of taking out a small loan to cover the cost of a class set, provided she has a high enough credit score, proper ID, and sworn submission to the school secretary for life. It turns out that after all the paperwork the secretary still wants her to come up with a co-signer.

After the slow start team Gonna Lose is prepared to begin the day as well and is confident they can do well without Bill today.

Team Can’t Win has already gotten a solid start on instruction. They’re feeling good about the day since they’ve only had four students show up late after the bell rang – a school record. The morning’s ELD instruction is going great and Tom is working well with a group in the back. Things could not be going better as they begin to transition into math. Marge seems hopeful that they will stay on schedule today. Everyone was working harmoniously until the door opens and in walk no less than ten people from the district office. It turns out they’re here for a walkthrough that admin “forgot” to warn teachers about. Maggie and Marge are obviously upset that this distraction is keeping the students from focusing on the lesson. At this rate they fear the students will not be able to prove by lunchtime that the largest prime number known to exist does indeed have thirteen million digits, but they soldier on.

After spending thirty minutes in the classroom the group invites the teachers to come back to the corner of the classroom for a quick debrief, but not before asking them to provide a quick and spontaneous activity to keep the class occupied while they talk. Tom is trying unsuccessfully to come up with an activity that will keep them quiet. Marge sees he’s having difficulty and intervenes by simply asking them to take out their AR books to read silently as she takes out a large jar of sand and tells them those are the ashes of the last student who talked during silent reading. It seemed to work.

The debrief lasts ten minutes and is largely confusing. Three of the people have no idea what campus they’re on. Two didn’t know this was an elementary school they were going to be observing today, one has no clue what the team is supposed to do, and the rest seemed more concerned about the layout of the desks and the color coordinating of the focus walls. One seemed to be livid that the font for some items on the focus walls was Times New Roman and not Arial. Apparently the research shows that students will score higher on state tests in an Arial-rich classroom environment. The teachers were also reprimanded for allowing themselves to now become forty minutes behind schedule.

Over at team Gonna Lose they’re about to start the math instruction. Leslie has handed out the math manipulatives to the students, but by the time she’s passed out the last of them she’s noticed that already three students have lost half of their manipulatives, one student angrily claims she never received her set even though it’s sitting on her desk in plain sight, one student claims someone has stolen his manipulatives and refuses to take another breath until the perpetrator is found and hanged, one student is excited that he was able to shove one row of base ten blocks halfway up is nose, and the rest of the students are using them weapons as they reenact the D-Day invasion. When she finally gets them calmed and focused she discovers that the bulb has just burned out in the overhead. After a quick call to obtain another one the secretary told her that she has to fill out a form in triplicate and it will be submitted to the board for approval at the next board meeting, provided there is still funding left and she’s willing to give up her first-born child. At this rate Leslie is worried that they won’t have enough time to master the state’s requirement of teaching connective physics using the formula F = D m d3x/dt3 + m d2x/dt2 + u dx/dt + k x. Things are further complicated when she discovers the students don’t yet have a firm grasp of calculus from the first grade. In fact, few of them can consistently identify the “+” symbol. Eventually the morning recess bell rings and Linda lines up the kids to go outside while Leslie curls up in the corner in the fetal position.

The rest of the day progresses well for team Can’t Win. Tom, Marge, and Maggie have really hit their stride with this class, but unfortunately were unable to meet the state requirement to deconstruct Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet and adapt it to be representative of today’s society. They were held back because none of their second graders could read anywhere near a high school reading level. Tom also blames this on their first grade teacher for not adequately preparing them.

Team Gonna Lose has really lost momentum since Leslie’s meltdown before recess. Bill has returned and both he and Linda are teaching the lessons with some success. Linda’s experience has really come into play as she picks up the slack for Leslie. However, even with Linda’s experience the team never fully recovered and their students were unable to make any reasonable progress towards creating that interdimensional rift.

Both teams gather on the blacktop at the end of the school day. Leslie is being carried by Bill and is babbling incoherently.

“Well teams you’ve had an eventful day. Team Can’t Win, you were mostly successful. You handled the surprise walkthrough very well. Unfortunately they weren’t impressed with what they saw. Maggie, they had real issues with the amount of wait-time you allowed for each student to answer. You consistently only allowed students between 2.8 and 2.9 seconds of wait-time to answer your questions. The research shows that students must be allowed a full 3 seconds to give a thoughtful answer. They also had concerns that your classroom was not set up using the balance of Feng Shui. The research shows that students in a Feng Shui classroom environment consistently score an extra two points on state testing.”

“Team Gonna Lose, you had a difficult day. Leslie, what happened?”

“………”

Leslie is unable to respond. Her credential program failed miserably in preparing her for the realities of teaching. She hasn’t responded to any external stimuli since recess. We don’t know the horrors haunting her at this moment, but we hope with therapy she may once again live a productive life. Just please don’t ever mention NCLB to her. Hearing that acronym could instantly put her into an irreversible coma.

“Well team Gonna Lose, you’ve obviously lost. Linda and Bill, you did good job trying to recover, but the reality is your team has failed. Your students not only did not create the required interdimensional rift, but there are reports that South Korean kindergarteners have. They now have the ability to stretch time which allows their students to spend twenty-seven hours of every day in the classroom. The U.S. is now distressingly behind in education. You’ve lost and worst yet, your failure makes the rest of us easy scapegoats at the whim of any politician. The good news for your team is that because of Leslie’s medical condition you will not have to attend tribal council tonight. Leslie is the second person voted out of Teacher Survivor. Everyone rest up for the next challenge.”

Thank you for tuning into this week’s Teacher Survior: USA – NCLB. I would love give you a sneak peek at next week’s episode, but the budget’s been cut again and we don’t have the funding. See you next week.”

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Welcom to a New Season of Teacher Survivor
by: Hifiman, 05-09-2009

Welcome to a new season of Teacher Survivor: USA – NCLB. I’m your host Mike Hifiman. This season promises to be the toughest yet as we’ve pitted two tribes of teachers against each other in a Title 1 school in its second year of program improvement. The contestants come from all over the country. Some are new to the job, some have been around a while, and some are nearing retirement (they’re the bipolar ones who frequently transition between toothy smiles and fits of outrage manifesting as severe facial tics and extreme profanity in the teachers’ lounge). The contestants don’t know each other and as they sit in silence on this bus ride they have their first opportunity to see each other and size up their competitors They all have one thing in common – the desire to teach to the best of their ability, the desire to make a positive difference in young lives, and more importantly, the desire to humiliate themselves on TV for the chance to win a million dollars. Unfortunately, due to never ending budget cuts in education we’ve had to reduce the prize money to $1,000 and a year’s worth of free lunches in the school’s cafeteria – with chocolate milk. It’s an unfortunate change that we haven’t told them about since too many of them are already stressed to the point of leaving the profession and we suspect one of the nearly retired may be packing a shiv. So please sit back and enjoy what promises to be the most difficult season of Teacher Survivor yet as the contestants compete to overcome nearly impossible obstacles on their way to ensure every student scores proficient and become the one true survivor.

Cue the horrible music of some school song and the obligatory video montage of the contestants trying to look personable.

“We are now pulling into the parking lot of Our Budget’s Been Cut Again Elementary. Our contestants have never seen this school and have likely never had to deal with such an inhospitable environment before.”

“Okay players. We’re at our destination where you will be competing for the next thirty-nine days for the coveted title of Teacher Survivor. Usually it’s at this time that I would give you sixty seconds to grab what you can from the bus to help you and your tribe survive, but as you are aware in the world of education you are responsible for providing many of the luxuries of education like pencils and paper from your own money. So having said that, step out of the bus and let’s pick your teams.”

Contestants file out and we begin.

“Alright, let’s begin by picking our teams. We have two teachers who have just earned their preliminary credential and have yet to teach their own class. They are going to be our team captains. Let’s meet Tom from California and Leslie from Arizona. Tom, let’s start with you. Make your first pick.”

“Thanks Mike. I pick the woman in pink bongo shirt.”

“That woman’s name is Jenna. Jenna, please come up and take your place behind Tom. Now Tom, why did you decide to pick Jenna?”

“Well Mike, on the bus I happened to see her lean over the seat to grab the seatbelt. I got an eyeful and immediately knew she had big talent.”

“Fair enough. Now it’s Leslie’s turn to pick.”

“Mike, I’m going to pick the guy in black t-shirt.”

“Interesting choice. That contestant’s name is Bill. Bill come on over to your new team.”

“Okay Leslie, why did you pick Bill?”

“Well Mike, Bill’s a big strong guy and I want him to kick Tom’s ass.”

“Ohhh, be careful Tom, it doesn’t sound like Leslie liked the reason for your first choice.”

“Tom, it’s time to make your next pick.”

“Alright Mike, I’m picking the lady in the blue dress.”

“Okay, that contestant’s name is Marge. Marge come on down and meet your new team.”

“Tom, did you happen to see Marge leaning over something too?”

“No Mike. I picked her because she’s old, but not as old as the woman in the pantsuit. I figured she has some experience that will be useful for the team and won’t need so many naps.”

“Marge, how do you feel about that?”

“That’s alright with me. I’m old enough to remember how to make a ruler sting. We’ll see how he likes that.”

“Ouch!”

“Okay Leslie, it’s time to make your next pick.”

“Well Mike, I think I’ll pick the woman with the tats all over her arms.”

“Alright, say hello to Alma. Alma come meet your new team.”

“Leslie, why did you pick Alma?”

“Mike I figured it was possible that Bill might wimp out against Tom when I noticed he was checking out Jenna too, but then I saw Alma and figured anyone crazy enough to get that many tattoos has to be a badass.”

“Okay, but you do remember this is about teaching, right?”

“Whatever, I just want to make Tom cry.”

“Tom, we’re down to the last two people to be picked. Make your choice.”

“Mike, I’ll take the woman on the left who’s flipping me off.”

“That’s Maggie and she is flipping you off. Maggie, come meet your new team.”

“Tom, Maggie was flipping you off. Obviously she doesn’t like you, but you chose her anyway. Why?”

“Yes Mike I can tell she doesn’t like me, but I really didn’t want to get stuck with the old lady over there.”

“Maggie, you obviously don’t like Tom. How do you feel about being picked by him?”

“I think he’s a pig and I can’t wait to vote him out.”

“Tom, it doesn’t sound like you’re off to a good start with your team. Alright Leslie, the last contestant’s name is Linda and she’s now part of your team.”

“Linda, how do you feel about being picked last and how do you feel about the things Tom said?”

“It’s all fine Mike. Tom doesn’t remember that I was his first grade teacher. I had to keep a mop next to his desk because he wet his pants every other day. I’d much rather be on this team and stay dry.”

“Brutal!”

“Okay Tom, your team is now known as team “Can’t Win.” Leslie, your team is now known as “Gonna Lose.” “Your first challenge is this: You will each have thirty minutes to prepare for the first day of school for your kindergarten classrooms. None of your students have been in preschool, none of them have been read to or even know what a book is, and most of them have no idea of the concept of school. You will spend four hours with them getting them accustomed to the school and classroom routines. Now remember, since the introduction of NCLB there’s no time for the silliness of learning the alphabet, numbers, colors, or even how to hold a pencil. These students will be expected to master quadratic equations by the end of the first trimester so you have lots of work to do. It sounds difficult, but if our nation is to lead the world in science and develop a faster microwave oven it has to be done – with one hundred percent proficiency. Oh, and class size reduction has been eliminated with budget cuts so you will have thirty-four students – unless the admin figures out a way to shoehorn in a few extra. Are you ready Survivors? Begin!”

The teams rush off to their classrooms. Both teams are working frantically to set up the classrooms. My first stop is the classroom of team Can’t Win. They appear to be struggling to set up the room. Tom has noticed that they are required to have a focus wall for language arts, math, writing, science, social studies, and the sound/spelling cards. Additionally they must have sufficient space to display student work, the calendar, and classroom rules. Each requirement has a set minimum amount of space that must be used, but unfortunately the classroom isn’t big enough. The people at the district office should know this, but they insist it will work.

Marge’s experience is really coming into play here as she quickly sets up the classroom. Tom has assigned Jenna to stand on chair to put items on the wall up high and out of normal reach. He’s taking safety seriously and insists on standing under her to hold her chair in place.

At team Gonna Lose they have all banded together to quickly put up their focus walls. They’ve finished with time to spare, but have just now noticed that they don’t have enough desks or chairs for all thirty-four students. Making matters worse is that half the desks have one leg shorter than the other three. Leslie has gone off to find the custodian, but no one knows where he goes off to after the doors have been unlocked. Eventually Leslie gives up. Her team decides that desks are really unnecessary today and they will just have the students sit on the carpet. Actually, this is a good move that may pay off dividends for the team.

It’s now ten minutes until the start of school and the students have started to trickle in. Team Gonna Lose seems to have things in hand. They are greeting the students and their parents with very convincing fake smiles. Linda’s experience is really coming into play as she greets students who look like they’ve just been trapped and placed in captivity, without so much as flinching. The parents seem at ease.

Over at team Can’t Win things aren’t going nearly as well. The team was unprepared for the number of parents who are crying uncontrollably as they drop their children off. It’s a rookie mistake for Tom. He should’ve known this is the day these parents have been looking forward to for years – free childcare. The emotions are almost impossible to hold back. Tom and Jenna are scrambling as they try to locate a box or two of Kleenex. However, Marge and Maggie seem to have their end of things well in hand.

Things are progressing for both teams this morning, but unfortunately there’s a late arrival every five minutes. Instruction instantly comes grinding to a halt each time as the teachers deal with more tears from the separation anxiety from the parents and children. Tom is also struggling with separation anxiety because Marge and Maggie insist he and Jenna stay apart.

After about an hour into the school day Tom has been bitten twice, hit in the groin by three different kids, and had his family threatened by a “worldly” little boy who doesn’t like hearing the word “no.” One girl simply growled at him when he looked at her.

Other issues for the team are the complete lack of bathroom skills of their students. Several like to hose down the wall in the bathroom. One took abstract art in the bathroom stall to new heights, and several felt no need to be bothered with a bathroom and simply gave the custodian more work to do on the carpet – if he’s ever found.

Unfortunately the team has obviously failed the challenge. The district’s pacing guide required their students to master simple linear equations, write a five paragraph personal narrative, and prepare a lecture on quark theory. They only had one student stop drooling long enough to correctly identify the color yellow.

Team Gonna Lose did a bit better. They did have good handle on the kids with a minimum amount of duct tape and chloroform. Linda’s experience was crucial to success as she went old school on them and threatened them to sit still if they wanted to live. Alma’s tattoos made most of the class feel a bit intimidated, but it was the lip piercing that really kept them in line as they worried she might pierce their lips too.

Unfortunately this team also failed the challenge. The best they could do on the first day of school was to keep most of the students from using the pencils as weapons. However, because three of their students could write the letter “A” they did better than team Can’t Win and won’t go to tribal council.

“Team Gonna Lose, you won by default, but you failed to give your students a good start towards writing their kinder thesis and defending it in front of a panel of college professors at the end of this month. Your victory is a hollow one. Go back to your classroom and analyze the data to come up with a new plan.”

“Team Can’t Win, you failed the challenge. It’s unfortunate, but at this rate your students are in danger of not meeting the state standards to construct and launch their own space shuttle by the time we get to back to school night. You’ve lost and therefore must vote someone out in tonight’s tribal council. See you tonight.”

Later that evening the tribe somberly walks into the cafeteria carrying their uncapped dry erase markers.

“So, your first challenge and you failed to come together as a team.”

“It was an impossible challenge!” yelled Tom.

“No, I’m sorry, but that’s not an excuse. Highly qualified teachers must find a way to make sure all kindergarten children can explain the theory of relativity before they know where the playground is. No excuses!”

“Linda, what do you think went wrong?”

“We just didn’t come together as a team. I tried telling them to throw out the research they kept reciting to me. It’s bogus crap that someone pulled out of their ass! They didn’t even know who the hell did the damn research!

“Jenna, I see you shaking your head.”

“Yes Mike, the problem is that Linda just won’t accept new teaching methods. I kept telling her transcendental meditation has been proven to increase test scores when done on Mondays. She just won’t listen to anybody.”

“Tom, what do you think happened to your team?”

“Mike, I don’t know. Can someone give me an icepack and a margarita? The horror.”

“Marge, you look upset.”

“Hell yes. If Tom actually paid attention to what he was doing, instead of watching Jenna, he would have dodged those hits to his boys.”

“Alright, obviously the first day didn’t go well. Let’s get to the vote.”

The votes are cast and Mike begins the count.

“Let’s get to the count. Tom, you get the first vote.”

He seemed almost relieved.

“Jenna, you get a vote.”

She looks a bit upset.

“Jenna, you get another vote, but why did someone write “Whore” underneath your name?”

“That was me!” Maggie shouted. “It’s bad enough she wore a bongo shirt, but when she bent over I saw she was wearing a thong as well. We don’t need someone like that on our team.”

Tom appears upset that he didn’t catch a glimpse of the thong. Furthermore, he’s upset that our society still persecutes those women brave and bold enough to dress to be noticed.

As the next vote is opened Mike reveals that Jenna is the first person voted off of Teacher Survivor.

“Jenna, you’ve been voted out. Please come up and let me cap your marker.”

“Well team Can’t Win, you’ve had a rough first day. Go rest and prepare for your next challenge. You've got a lot of work to do.”

“Thank you for tuning in to this week’s Teacher Survivor. Please stay tuned for the next episode that places both teams in the most difficult challenge to date.”

21 Comments

Signs of Hope and Change
by: Hifiman, 03-01-2009

There was an incident during recess yesterday that gave me real hope for the future. I was on duty with another teacher when we saw another teacher come out of the girls’ bathroom and walk toward us. It turns out she caught some girls stuffing paper towels and toilet paper down the toilets to make them overflow. They happened to be the students of the teacher I was talking to. She went over to the girls to deal with the issue. After a while she came back to us and simply said that she was surprised to learn that girls were doing something that is typically a thing we expect from the boys. I was surprised too, but for a different reason. I was excited to think that maybe this is a sign that we are truly on the cusp of positive social change.

I know it’s hard to think of vandalism as something positive. Plugging up the toilets and flooding the bathroom seems to be a common thing in the schools I’ve taught in. Up until now it’s always been boys who are the culprits, but obviously girls are feeling empowered to stand up and be counted too. Good for them! Break the bonds of that silly sugar and spice label.

It was exhilarating to know that this would be the day I would tell people about many years from now when I could share with them that I was witness to this pinnacle of female achievement. I think it was because of this incident that I started noticing things I really hadn’t before. During a dodge ball game with another class I started to really focus on the behavior of the girls. Many of them stayed near the center line to fight for the ball, instead of hanging back in relative safety. More than once I saw the look of pure joy on their faces when they smacked someone in the face with the ball. Several of them even engaged in the time-honored male tradition of talking smack after a particularly nasty hit to an opponent.

It wasn’t just the girls who were trying to break the bonds of social norms. I noticed one of my male students whom I call Vogue. Vogue was happily doing his part to affect change as he pirouetted around the court dodging balls. Instead of smack talk he just simply stopped to strike a pose with his hand on his hip as he gave an icy stare to strike fear in his opponents.

So today I’m feeling a bit better about the world. These changes give me hope for the future. I’m trying to do my part too. I’ve already publicly admitted to watching American Idol. I think one day I may be ready to watch The Bachelor. I’ll have to think about that one though. Bells can’t be unrung.

2 Comments

Some comments I'd really like to make
by: Hifiman, 03-01-2009

I can’t believe it. I’m finally done with the last incidentals on my report cards and I only have one more day to go until I’m off-track. These first two trimesters have been full of ups and downs, but overall this has been a really good year with just about the best class one could hope for. I deserve it after last year’s group. Still, I feel like I have unfinished business. It’s been nagging me for a couple of days now. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it until I put the last report card in its envelope – my report card comments stink.

I tried to make good comments this time around. I gave careful thought to make sure I started out with a positive comment before addressing any deficiencies. I even took great care to put a positive spin on those deficiencies to soften the blow and maintain everyone’s self-esteem. I was even careful to make sure I ended with a positive statement. But the more I think about it the more I’m convinced that those last two steps were where I took a wrong turn and put my mind in a state of anxiety. I was mostly honest. Mostly is supposed to be pretty good in these kinds of situations, right? Well, now I’m left second-guessing my comments.

I have one young woman in my class who is an absolute delight, but truth be told she is very low in all academic areas. I did dig a bit and tried to talk up her skills in spatial awareness, but what I really should have said is something more along these lines. “Your child continues to struggle in all academic areas. I do however notice she has a great interest in the monkey bars during recess and is quite adept at twirling around on the vertical poles. You might want to encourage that if this academic thing doesn’t work out in the future.”

There are two young men in my class who are my lowest by a wide margin. One is new, but the other is already getting help in two different programs during the day and an after school program. He hasn’t made any progress and neither of the two is doing well. I did make every effort in my comments to encourage the two of them to keep trying and I gave several goals for them for the next trimester. Honestly I should have been a bit more to the point by saying, “I notice your child has a great love of the outdoors and lots of energy to spare. I might suggest now that you invest in a good quality pair of work gloves and boots. Don’t forget sun block.”

Another gentleman isn’t performing as well as he can. He’s more than a bit lazy and doesn’t like wasting energy on the little incidentals like paying attention during direct instruction. Talking to him is like talking to a brick wall. I did mention his struggles to maintain focus and listed some goals for the coming months, but what I really should’ve said is, “Your child seems bored and unaffected by the requests of others no matter how direct or kindly things are worded. There’s hope though, I believe he’s well-suited to work the customer service desk at any local Walmart.”

I really had trouble with the comments for one boy in particular. Academically he’s made growth, but he’s hanging on by a thread. I did make sure to praise him for the gains he’s made and I also mentioned how well he participates in class and group discussions. What I should have said is, “Your son’s grades have improved this trimester, but he has little interest in anything else besides arguing any point with anyone. He might consider politics. I’ve never seen anyone filibuster at the drop of a hat like your child does. He never seems to run out of steam. Also, I’m not sure good grades are really necessary for any office.”

Of course it’s not always about the kids. Sometimes the comments are strictly for the parents. I have one gentleman who misses lots of school and is constantly tardy. I’ve mentioned that this missed time is negatively affecting his grades. What I’d really like to say is, “Somehow the school’s schedule has been miscommunicated to you. It’s really more of a set start time and less of a come when you feel like it thing.”

Now if only I could put comments about their clothing. Perhaps even address what their children wear too.

6 Comments

And the Oscar goes too.....
by: Hifiman, 02-26-2009

This week is going to test my sanity in the biggest way. First off we only have a four day week which started today. Then we have minimum days on Thursday and Friday because we are going off-track. Now the problem is this: During this time I have to give an ELA, math, and science benchmark assessment. Lengthy tests no matter what. Add to that the requirement of leveled reading passages tests for all my below grade-level readers (nearly all of my 34 students). Then of course I have the math chapter test to give, followed by a reading and a math test on the computers. I just don't have the time. Oh, I forgot to mention there's still the awards assembly this week too.

I did my planning over the weekend and came out with a schedule that should allow for a bit of review and allow all assessments to be given, but it's really tight. Unfortunately my planning was once again a waste of time. I received a call from an administrator a few moments after school started. It turns out they forgot (again) that one of our consultants wants to work with us this week. I was asked what time would be good for me today. You've got to be kidding me. I accepted one of the offered time slots to talk with this consultant. She wanted to take a moment to plan a lesson for later in the week. It turns out they want to come do a demo lesson in each of the intermediate classrooms. So I find out from her that I've got to give up even more class time later this week. Of course no one cares about the benchmark tests - these same tests that will be used to assess my performance on this year's evaluation. So I'll simply say that I was in a foul mood as I stewed about this. It seems to be almost a weekly occurrance to find out at the very last minute that something was scheduled, but thankfully my class helped me lighten my mood.

It was during the middle of the first portion of our science test. As we prepared I gave my usual pretest speech. This includes a few words about cheating. Did that have any effect? You guessed it. They tried.

I've never had much of a problem with cheating. For the most part they're pretty good, but I think lots of them were stressed out over this science test. I don't blame them, it's really hard. So they resorted to trying to cheat. They were good actors who gave some Oscar-worthy performances and they should be acknowledged.

The first award goes to the boy I call Vogue for his stellar performance in the time honored tradition of playing Peek-a-Boo to cheat. Vogue places his hand over one eye to not only rest his head on, but also to slowly tilt the edge of his hand upward until he had full view of his neighbor's test directly in front of him. I lowered my head so I would be in his full view once he raised his hand again. He barely flinched when he saw me and played it cool, but he got the message. Truly, I should have let him cheat off that guy. His scores would have really tanked.

The next award goes to Mr. Never Pay Attention for his performance in the category of Pretending Something's in my Eye. Really there was no one in Mr. Attention's class. He actually pulled on his eyelashes to pull his eyelid out at least a half-inch from his eye and then turned his eye toward's his neighbor's paper. I have to admit he snuck in a few extra free answers because it took me a while to work out all the heebie jeebies and go up to him to tell him to stop. I wonder if he does that gross flipping out the eyelids thing too.

The next award goes to Mr. Who Me? for his perfomance in needless muscle stretches. Mr. Me? suddenly had a lingering desire to stretch his arms out wide and a do a few trunk twist for good measure as he scanned around at his neighbors' papers. All I could do was get his attention and merely say, "Are you kidding me?" He didn't seem to feel the need for any more stretches after that. I had to laugh because this guy never wants to do anything even remotely related to exercise unless it involves lobbing a dodge ball at someone's head.

There were a few other honorable mentions for the quick glances and the creative use of peripheral vision, but the final award and most humorous goes to Ms. Hootchie Mama for her captivating role as The Thinker. Ms. Mama rested her chin on her hand and placed her forefinger over her mouth and to the side of her nose as she took great pains to contort her face in varying expressions that gave the viewer the sense that she was actually probing the recesses of her mind to answer the mysteries of the universe. Curiously though, I noticed she also used these contortions to her advantage to cast a wayward glance at her neighbor's paper. Once again I should have let her copy that person's paper. He has trouble even spellling his name right.

We wrapped up that segment of testing and cleaned up to go home. I'm not sure, but I think I heard the winners talk of an after-party, but I didn't get the invite. I'll try not to get too bummed out about that. It is important to support the arts and that should be enough for me. Still, I hope the paparazzi didn't cause any problems.

5 Comments

I really hate dating someone new again
by: Hifiman, 02-20-2009

It's been years since I've been out on a date. The last time I started dating someone new was March 16, 1991. That's when I met my wife. We dated every single day once we met. On our first official date after being introduced we went to dinner and a movie. We saw Wesley Snipes' New Jack City. Now I've never claimed to be the most romantic guy, but I did have a knack for choosing great date movies. It wasn't very far into the movie when we saw the first topless scene. Seriously, is there anyone on the planet - male or female - that can see boobs and not feel romantic?

But you know dating makes you crazy. For men this means we have to present the best side of us that we possibly can. That means being attentive, considerate, caring, etc. In other words all those things we abhor. For guys this is like a ticking time bomb. We know we can do it for a while, but eventually we run out of time and the real us eventually comes out. We just hope we've made it long enough that she feels she's invested enough time in us and has to see it through to the end. For women this is where the inevitable "I can change him" comes in to play. I thought all those days were long behind me, but I was wrong. I now find myself in the uncomfortable position of dating someone new. Someone much younger than I am. Once again I have to pretend to be attentive, considerate and caring - something I haven't done in seventeen years. I'm so out of practice.

We met two weeks ago, but I learned about her a week prior to that. My son broke the news to my wife first. He told her he didn't want her to hear if from someone else at church first, but that during winter camp he asked a girl to be his girlfriend. My wife knew her and told me a bit about her. My son and this girl had made plans to go out on a date, but had to hold off for a couple of weeks because her father wanted the girl's older sister and her boyfriend to chaperon the outing. That was fine, but I wanted to meet her too and I didn't want to risk a lightning strike at church to do it so I offered to chaperon the following Friday with my wife. That was just plain crazy. I hate doing anything on a Friday evening. I like to come home and relax as I try to pretend thirty-four students don't exist for a few days. But I really did want to meet her and I didn't want my son to have to wait for an opportunity to go out with her. So we made plans for dinner and movie.

I started by giving my son "the talk" before his date. I told him not to expect a girl to care about the important things in life. She's not going to care about watts, impedance, stereo imaging, and speaker sensitivity. I also told him it was very unlikely she would care about NASCAR and even if she did she would probably just like Kahne or think Busch's mongoloid features are cute. I think he understood, but I also knew I couldn't worry about it. He would just have to find his own way in the dating world.

On Friday evening I met this girl. I actually liked her. She was quiet. No girlie giggling, and best yet, no shrieking. The four of us rode in my car to the plaza where we would see Mall Cop. She impressed me by getting in the car and keeping her feet from touching the back of the front seat. She's obviously been raised right. Though in all honesty she lost big points for not offering a compliment on my car. I'll chalk it up to first date nerves.

It was so weird to look at the two of them once we got out of the car. They were walking and holding hands. My son walked so stiffly that he looked as if his vertebrae had been surgically fused. We were limited on time and had to go for our second choice of places to eat. I sat across from her and next to my wife. Dinner was kind of quiet. We were all on our best behavior, but once again, try as I might I couldn't contain myself for long. In the corner was the world's most obnoxious boy and girl. They were about a year or two younger than my son and his date. I looked at that irritating boy and noticed he had a freakishly big head. I couldn't take my eyes off it. Finally I whispered to my wife to check out the big head. Of course she chose to kind and said he was just having a growth spurt and would grow into it. I told her there was no way anyone could grow into a head that big. That's when my son's date laughed and said that's something her mom would say. So I learned this kid's got great hearing and that even though I've never met her mom I like her already.

The movie was uneventful. We sat away from them to give them their space. I was all prepared to complain about the movie all the way through, but I actually liked it. I had no idea what the two of them were doing, but I felt confident my son wouldn't make the mistake of striking up a conversation about the qualities of multiple subwoofers over single ones. I was thankful however that he had listened to me earlier when I told him to walk her to her door when we drop her off at home. My wife didn't look, but I kept an eye on him to see what they did when they got to the door. Damn people don't have a porch light, but I did see a hug take place.

Our first date seemed successful, but still it's work. My son recently had a birthday and invited her and his friends over. I worried about this and told him ahead of time that he shouldn't ignore her in favor of his friends. Too many guys do this and it never turns out well. He actually did a good job of striking a good balance. It was cute to see them sharing an XBOX controller to play Call of Duty with his other friends. And as you've already concluded, my son does a good job of picking the right kind of game for a date.

But you know this whole dating thing is wearing me out. I feel like I've got to keep an eye on him to make sure other things don't slip through the cracks. I've reminded him a few times that Valentine's Day was coming and he needed to make sure he not only had money put aside to buy her a gift, but that he had to remember to go out and buy ahead of time. He actually got her something pretty good from Disneyland a few days ago.

So both my son and I are well on the way to starting a new relationship. Who knows how long it will last. It's already been a couple of weeks which just may put us on the verge of breaking a record for the longest first relationship in history. All I know is our first date that night cost me a $100. I won't be too disappointed if they take it slow for a while.

6 Comments

Take me to my happy place
by: Hifiman, 02-11-2009

It was nearly two weeks ago when I got the news from the school nurse that all teachers fear - it's time for the family life videos to be shown.Of course I knew there would be no getting out of showing the boys video again this year. The only other male teacher on my grade level has a combo, so it's all me. We had decided that Friday afternoon was the best time for this. This way the students would see it and go home immediately afterwards - along with all their questions and comments.

The early morning did provide a moment of panic for me though. One of the other teachers called me just before school started and asked me what I thought of showing both the boys and girls video to my group in the afternoon. What!? I thought she was kidding, but it turns out that's what they've done at this school in the past. She would show the girls both videos and I would do the same with the boys. I didn't want to, but I didn't want to just come right and say it if it means I'm not going to be a team player here, but I just don't want to go there. It's bad enough showing the boys video to a group of 11-year-old boys. Showing them the girl's video seemed a surefire way to traumatize us all. I'm old school. I know there's lots of things going on with the female body, but honestly I don't care. I just want to know the basics - boobs, butt, and the happy place - that's it. Thankfully I didn't have to worry much longer. She told me that she would run it by the VP. Later she said he looked at her like she was crazy (the same look I gave her I'm sure, but she couldn't see over the phone) and said no. So our original plans remained unchanged.

After lunch my class was packed with boys waiting for a show. This was such a different group from last year's. Last years students (on a different campus) were so worldly for their age. I was curious how this group would react. It didn't take long to find out. Within the first few moments of the film the word penis was introduced. You would have thought we were watching a Chris Rock performance by the way these guys were bent over laughing. I had to stop the movie for a bit to give them time to settle down. Who knew the word penis could be so funny?

The next piece of information that had them rolling on the floor was the mention of puberty and the impending appearance of pubic hair - complete with an arrow pointing to the exact spot they could expect it to sprout from. Again we had to pause a moment to let everyone regain their composure.

When we resumed I figured things would only get better from there. I was wrong. I had forgotten about the next topic - ejaculation. The boy in the video shyly asks the viewers if they've ever gotten hard? There were a few giggles here and there, but the worst offender was me. I'm blaming it on a case of nerves at this point, but thankfully I don't think many noticed that I had a laugh or two at this point, but it got worse. The boy then tells us about ejaculation and wet dreams. My heart nearly stopped. I did not want to deal with this. I was pleased to see very little reaction from the the students to this. I don't think they had any clue what was being discussed here and I wasn't going to elaborate. Thankfully the video quickly transitioned to personal hygiene.

I love this part. This is where they get the information that at their age they perspire more and need to take frequent showers with soap. To me this is the most important information they can have at this age. In the summer months I'm tired of dealing with fifth grade funk. I just wish this was shown at the beginning of the year. So I felt the need to pause the video to make sure they understood that taking a shower didn't mean they just had to get wet with water and jump right back out. I told them they needed to use the soap and all their teachers would thank them.

We had just about finished the video when the door to my classroom opened. Half the class shouted in a panic, "Stop the video, there's a girl coming in!" It turned out that the girl was the mother of one of my boys. She's frequently on campus and just stopped in to ask that I give him a message. Whew! Disaster averted. We would have hated to have been embarrassed by having a girl see on the video that we have two shaving options for facial hair.

Once the video wrapped I had some sealed plastic bags that the nurse gave me to hand out. This was new for me this year. I was told there was a pamphlet and a stick of deodorant in there for them. You would have thought I was Santa handing out Playstations by the way these guys were eagerly lining up for these packages. Many of them quickly tore them open and marveled at their deodorant. At about this time my girls came back into class so I sent the boys off. One girl saw the packages the boys had and screamed, "They have condoms!" This caused a mild panic. I learned later from another teacher that the girls' packs included a pad for them so they probably assumed the boys had something more than just deodorant.

I love teaching 5th, but maybe next year teaching 4th or 3rd wouldn't be so bad.

17 Comments

Maybe I'm a drama queen too
by: Hifiman, 02-04-2009

A few weeks ago while I was on gate duty I saw a young boy walk by with a green shirt that said, "Drama Queen" across the front in large white lettering. I thought it was odd, but I gave no reaction to it. Tonight I'm left wondering if I too might be a drama queen.

I already documented the trauma of my first real observation by my new boss. It left me more than a bit rattled that day. The next day I felt I had a better handle on what actually went on. It made me feel a bit better about some aspects of it. Since then I've been dreading seeing the written eval. I actually found it in my box yesterday, but I didn't look at it until this afternoon. It wasn't what I expected. When thinking back upon the meeting where my observation was discussed I assumed that by the time I read the last line of my eval I would be a bit teary-eyed. The worst part is that if anyone caught me I wouldn't have anything to blame it on. Liv Tyler is already married, so I can't say I'm devastated she's off the market. And the Daytona 500 is still just a bit over 10 days away. So I don't even have the excuse that a favorite driver was wronged in the race. It turns out I don't need either excuse.

The eval was actually pretty cool (Though I'm still waiting for the eval that says, "Mr. Hifiman is such a good teacher and deserves his own parking space at least 20 feet from the nearest car in any direction in the school parking lot - AND away from foot traffic."). In the evidence column there are lots and lots of good things written down. Wedged in a spot or two are a few negatives, but they are kindly worded. The part where I really felt I would take a hit was the comments section, but that was easy to get through without so much as having to pretend that a bug flew in my eye. So I don't get it. I actually feel good about what's written. The problem for me is that it just doesn't match up with the whole tone of that meeting. Should I be shopping for a XXL Drama Queen shirt? Not green of course. I hate green.

4 Comments

A little clarification and some missing info.
by: Hifiman, 02-04-2009

I think a little clarification is in order. I see people are confused and think that I'm okay with the whole thing now. I am not. I really am not the pushover kind of person. The information I received from the VP went a long way to helping me understand her style. It's a style I've come across before, but not to this extent. My comfort level about things is much better after the talk with the VP. We know each other pretty well. I trust him and his opinion on this matter. However, that does not mean I am okay with this situation. That is what I tried to communicate with my ramblings about bosses. There's a right and wrong way to interact with one's subordinates. The right way gets the best out of them. The wrong way is detrimental to everyone involved. I am not okay with my treatment during the meeting. In fact I'm really far from being okay about it. But my point is that now I have a better understanding of it. It's not that I somehow did something that set her off, it's simply her management style. I can adapt to that. I've done it before.

The issue that was brought up had to do with my class reading the current selection. I don't think she liked that we were reading chorally and she wasn't happy about the time it took to read the section of it we had scheduled to read that day. I wanted to discus that because honestly I felt she thought this was a simple fluency exercise that should have only lasted a few minutes at most. The mistake was in my choice of standards to post during that lesson block. Personally I don't want to give up the choral reading. I feel that with a group of fifth graders reading at 2nd and 3rd grade level this is completely necessary and appropriate. Their Dibels scores and ZPD levels in STAR reading are showing growth with this method.

Now the real issue she had, the one she termed her "A-ha" moment, was with the construction of my lessons. Using the one she saw as an example she pointed out that my lessons are lacking a clear goal for the students. She discussed what she meant by that. I understood. That's the part that clicked for me. I realized that often times I don't have a clear idea of what the students are to produce at the end of the lesson. As she spoke I realized that I am inconsistent with that aspect and I do need to work on it. The problem was though that I did have a clear goal (in my opinion) and I had a product the students were to produce, but that days lesson was simply a step to that product's completion. Usually we have this about wrapped up by this time in the week, but I was behind because of the day out of the class I spent with a consultant. The sub assigned almost none of the work I had planned.

This lesson was on inferences. A concept I know is tough for them. The lesson was identified as a lesson on inferences that we were leading into just after wrapping up the last segment of the story (they had already heard it on CD earlier in the week). In finding some of our preliminary information for our graphic organizer my students were having great difficulty finding some simple "right there" information in the text. They were truly struggling with this and myself I was uncharacteristically flustered during this (I am never flustered during an observation). In any case she thought the information they were looking for was supposed to be their inferences. It wasn't. It was a just a first step in identifying some info in the book so that they could make inferences based on that information coupled with their own life experiences (the next step we needed to get into). Eventually I had to end the lesson and regroup.

In the meeting the principal really felt that the students were all supposed to immediately come up with inferences and received a complete lack of support from me. I tried to explain the lesson a bit more because I was just sure she would understand much better what was actually happening (or supposed to happen), but she shut me down and wouldn't let me talk. That's when her comment "Either way I've got you" came into play. She felt that even if I could explain the lesson it still didn't matter because the fluency part of it was inappropriate as well. My lesson was on inferences. I had the appropriate standard chosen, but we never got the real meat of the lesson. I don't understand how that happened that way. Again, I think I was flustered for the first time in an observation and it showed in my lack of good instruction.

On a side note, and this is something I meant to include last night. I took her advice and reworked my demo lesson for the other consultant who came in to observe me yesterday. It was a simple lesson (on quotations) that had lots of student involvement in groups. I thought the lesson went okay. There were bits I was unhappy with. It could have been better, but I think it went mostly well. I met with the consultant at the end of the day and she really, really heaped the praise on my lesson. She was very impressed that the students were 100% engaged. She repeated several times that not one student was off-task the entire forty minutes. In fact she said my lesson was a "model lesson." She then went on the heap the praise on my for my classroom management style. She loved how the students responded to that. It felt good and was a nice ending to the long and stressful week.

10 Comments

Observation update - It's not me, it's her
by: Hifiman, 02-05-2009

Thanks everyone for the support. Yesterday the principal was gone so I figured I'd talk with the VP. I've known him for a few years and trust him and his insight.

I asked to talk for a moment and then told him I knew he was aware of my observation yesterday. I let him know that I didn't disagree with the issue brought up, but that the whole experience was a bit unsettling. I told him I have never been involved in such a one-sided discussion before in which I was entirely shut down from responding and it left me wondering if I had somehow taken a misstep along the way and really ticked this person off. He was insistent that I hadn't done so and also insistent that the principal didn't have any issues with me. He did say that this principal has a much different personality and way of approaching things than my old principal did. He went on to say that she is very blunt and to the point. He also said that his own experience with her was similar in that the first couple of months with her he had felt that he had really "pissed her off," but later he learned that she had her own style and that her words and the way she came off did not necessarily mean she was upset - just that she had an urgency to get her point across. Okay. I've been down that road before.

He also told me that she had contacted him after our meeting and told him that she thought it went very well and was pleased. She felt that initially I was defensive, but that later I became receptive to her insight. Well, I really had no choice. I still don't see how the desire to discuss a few points turns into being defensive, but I know that a person's perceptions, and ultimately their fears, do all too often make communication difficult at best. However, now I know what I'm in for.

The conversation made me feel better about the previous day's discussion. I still don't like the way it played out. I think employees deserve to be treated better than that, but I have had bosses like this before. I have my own opinions as to why people behave this way when they are in a position of power, but the point is as Amy mentioned. Principals (any boss really) are rarely taught how to lead. The jobs of power only require the proper credentials, the appropriate level of experience (though that rarely seems to be a true sticking point), and all too often the key factor of who you know. Everything else seems irrelevant. Take the TV show The Office, for example.

I love this show. I remember watching the first three episodes of the first season and loving the Michael Scott character immensely. He truly was an amalgamation of every bad boss out there in the world. So why does a man who is completely incompetent and totally devoid of social skills still keep his job (aside from the fact that he's a main character and the show as of yet has not been canceled)? It's because he has numbers on his side.

I've worked for some truly great bosses. The kind that you would do anything for. They are fair, hardworking, and just all around good people, yet I've seen them broken by their superiors simply because the operation they were in charge of wasn't producing the numbers that made people happy. Too many times they were removed or made miserable until they left. The saddest part is when you know that in certain circumstances the performance expectations are unrealistic.

I've also worked for some really bad bosses too. They completely lacked social skills, were too caught up in their own agendas, and just plain demeaning. They were feared, they were ridiculed, they were reported, and they were despised by all except by the people who loved the numbers these bosses could produce. There is one constant in the world and it's simply this: produce above and beyond expectations and not one of your superiors will care how you did it. It's a rare person who has the compassion, respect, insight, and determination to not only treat people properly, but do so while producing the numbers that impress.

4 Comments

Either way I've got you
by: Hifiman, 01-31-2009

This week has been rough. Earlier in the week I was out of my classroom for half the day to work with one of our consultants to co-plan, co-teach a lesson. That went well, but I got very far behind. It's a long story, but the sub in my room that day didn't teach a thing so I'm trying to catch up on everything. Then I've been preparing for an observation tomorrow by one of our other consultants. I'm not looking forward to it, but it'll be over soon.

This morning I had a note from my principal that we needed to meet in a few weeks to go over my interim eval and she outlined what I needed to bring with me. Did you guess testing data was one of the requests? I put a reminder in my cell phone and went on with my day. About mid-morning the principal comes in to observe-and it went downhill from there.

First I've got to say that with the exception of spending a bit of time in my class when a new consultant comes on campus to watch all of us this principal has only spent two to three minutes in my room each time she's come in in the past. In fact today's observation is the first true observation she's done since I started working there the first week of August. Before today I have never received any sort of feedback from her, but several months back I had heard that she liked what she saw.

Overall the lesson went poorly. There were bits of it I was happy with, but for some reason the students were really struggling with something they don't usually struggle with. At least not like today. At lunchtime I went through the office to get my food out of the lounge. She saw me and invited me to come discuss the observation. Fine. I'd much rather know the results as soon as possible. She started the process in a very insincere manner. I got the standard opening mention of what I'm doing positive, but the whole time I could sense an edge there. I was told my classroom management was good and that the students really respond to me. Then we got into the real reason for the meeting. I stink.

She started by telling me that today she had an "A-ha" moment. She said she couldn't quite put her finger on just what I was missing, but today it clicked. She went on to describe just what that was. Once she was done I had to agree. She really had identified something that I was missing and it made sense to me. I didn't see it myself before, but now that I'm aware of it I can work on it. Now if it had ended there things would be fine. I would be disappointed that I'm not yet a great teacher, but I would have a goal to work towards. I'm okay with that. But then as the conversation continued I started to realize something more was going on here.

There were a couple of examples she brought up that quite honestly she misinterpreted. I wanted to explain a few things to her, but it was no good. I think she assumed I wanted to argue or disagree with her assessment. I didn't, but I did want to try to clarify some things. At one point she said, "Either way I've got you" in regards to one point. She's got me? Are we adversaries here? We've never talked much at all, but up to this point I thought we were somewhat of a team, but teammates don't usually look to "Get you." I did my best to just sit there and listen to the rest. I resisted an urge here and there to clarify something I felt she may have misinterpreted.

At one point there definitely was an issue that I felt I needed help with. It was directly related to her complaint with my teaching. I told her before I started that I wasn't using this as an excuse, but rather just to state it's an issue I'm having trouble adapting to. It's related to a tug and pull I feel in trying to meet the expectations of one of our consultants. This is hindered by the fact that nearly half my class leaves at various times during LA instruction and it disrupts the grouping expectations of that consultant. I was immediately shut down and told that everyone deals with this. Alright, but truly I only wanted to discuss it in hopes that she would understand one area that I felt truly affected my instruction and wanted help understanding how to deal with. I know now that option is not available with her.

There were a few other things here and there during the course of this meeting that really bothered me. They all point to a problem in our working relationship, but I just don't get it. I don't understand what I could have done. I don't get involved in any gossip related to her. I've not said or done anything to her that could have caused this. The only thing I can come up with is that a few weeks ago I let her know I couldn't attend the weekly staff meeting. She didn't seem to like that, but it's the first one I've missed. I'm really dreading seeing this eval after she writes it up.

7 Comments

A lot happening in the Hifi household
by: Hifiman, 02-03-2009

There's so many things going on all at once it's hard to know where to start. A week ago we brought home a new dog. It made for a really interesting few days as they learned to get along with each other. Eventually they stopped fighting. That led to a tenuous treaty between the two. The first walk outside with the two of them was really different. Our older dog Daytona refused to acknowledge that the new dog Molly was walking with him. He kept his eyes forward the whole time and not once allowed himself to enjoy the walk in all his usual ways. He pouted some more at home too. One night when he got up out of his bed to get a drink of water Molly jumped into his bed. Instead of lying down with her or sleeping in the other bed - the same bed that used to be his - he instead laid down on the carpet near the bathroom for the rest of the night.

Now I think they're are starting to become better friends. Molly tries to get him to play. He doesn't have the energy, but he tries. She's also taught him some bad habits too. Daytona is not a barker, but Molly is. I heard Daytona bark and thought that was odd. I checked out back in case something was wrong. No, nothing wrong. Molly was barking at the neighbor and Daytona decided to join in. I doubt he had any idea why he was barking. He's become a follower.

We've learned we have to keep an eye on Molly. She's chewed a few things she shouldn't have. She gets on the sofa and gets in my spot. When she sees me coming she jumps off, but as soon as I turn my back she jumps right back on. I think maybe her previous owners didn't want her on the sofa and she's not quite sure what's acceptable here yet.

We've also discovered that we need to keep an eye on food left within Molly's reach. This is new for us. Daytona has never taken food he wasn't given. Last night I had a mojo potato left on my plate. I wanted to give it to Daytona, but I thought I'd wait until Molly left the room. Eventually I set my plate in the middle of the coffee table and left the room for a moment. When I came back I noticed the potato was gone and Molly sitting there looking innocent.

As far as work goes, my wife is currently having issues with her district. They are being hit hard by the budget cuts and have cut everything to the bone. They've even canceled after school programs and have scrapped plans for summer school. That part is a little worrisome because summer school is a good option for us when money is tight like it was last summer when I was out of a job. There's also talk about RIFing teachers. The interesting part to me is that I can sit back and understand just how everyone is feeling and dealing with this. Her coworkers are doing and saying the very same thing the teachers in my district did last year. One notable exception though is that her district is much more forthcoming with information about this process and seems to be doing a decent job of keeping them in the loop. Fortunately we learned that she's high enough up the seniority list that she should be quite safe even if she does get a pink slip.

My district is going through similar budget issues. However, so far it's much less stressful this year. Our superintendent is gone and we essentially have a new school board. They are actually keeping us in the loop this year by sending out frequent updates about our district's financial health. For the first time I'm beginning to feel like our district does not view its teachers with complete contempt. It's very nice. I highly doubt I will go through this school year without another pink slip, but at least so far I'm much less stressed about it. Our union leadership also seems less antagonistic at this point in time.

We've had some new developments with our son this week too. My wife was driving him to a school basketball game on Thursday when he told her he had something to tell her and he wanted her to hear it from him before she found out from someone else. Her heart skipped a beat at this point just like mine did as she told me this information. But it wasn't horrible news. He told her he has a girlfriend. She's a girl from church. She sings in the choir so my wife knows her. They both attended a church winter camp last weekend and he asked her to be his girlfriend on the last day.

Now before I continue I have to say that I think the following information shows just how different men are from women. My wife asked him some questions. Questions I just don't get. She asked him what the girl's reaction was when they talked about this. She wanted to know if the girl said, "Oh, okay," or did she get all excited and giddy. He said it was the latter. She also wanted to know exactly what this relationship is. She said she asked something about this being a going out on a date kind of thing or going steady. He said it was a going steady kind of thing. So I asked my wife what does going steady mean? I've only heard the term used on Happy Days. It turns out my wife doesn't know exactly what going steady is either. I had different questions in mind.

My first and most important question is how much is she going to cost me? It turns out this girl is the same one who asked him to participate in her quinceanera several months back. This involved renting a tuxedo. Not just any tuxedo, but probably the most expensive rental tux on the planet. I just barely stopped complaining about the wedding tux we had to rent for him back when he was about nine. Honestly, he was a little kid. It doesn't take much fabric for his suit. Why does it cost as much to rent as a trip on the space shuttle? In my defense I'm not cheap. I just think that any sizeable amount of money spent should be spent on something that plugs in and plays loud. I'd also like to know when I get to meet her. I really don't want to have to go to church to do it. You know, now that I think about it I'm going to get that tux money back through blackmail. I'll simply imply that I might embarrass him when I meet her unless he agrees to hand over a percentage of his allowance. I need to figure out the vig on that tux rental.

My wife's is having a hard time adjusting to the thought of him having a girlfriend. She told me they had an argument last night while watching ER in the bedroom. He was constantly texting. She asked him if it was this girl. He said no, but then admitted he was. She told him he didn't need to lie about it. He said something about not wanting to be a part of the Spanish Inquisition (now I've got that song from History of the World Part I in my head). She's also brought up something about him having this girlfriend a time or two to me. It's obvious she's having a tough time with this. She also mentioned that we (really meaning me) need to have "The talk" with him. I know we do. I've dreaded this moment since the day he was born. I don't know what to say to him. I know it should be something about sex, but the only piece of advice I've got for him off the top of my head is to never let a woman touch his CDs. I mean honestly, no woman on the planet ever handles them right. They seem hellbent on ruining them.

This morning he needed a ride to church to help demolish the old sign in front of the sanctuary. I took him so I could talk to him. On the way there I asked him to tell me about this girl. Of course I got almost no info. I told him I was sympathetic to his need for privacy. My first girlfriend was at sixteen-and-a-half. I desperately didn't want my mom knowing and she didn't. But I also told him that he's only fifteen and like or not we have to ask him about his friends whether they're male or female. We wouln't be good parents if we didn't. I also told him that it's been hard on mom now that he's getting older and becoming his own person. One of the last things she has left with him is the two of them watching ER. I also said that was disrespectful to spend that entire time texting someone else. He said he understood the things I was saying. We didn't have the talk yet. I know I've got to do that soon. I just don't know what to say. I think I need props to get my point across. I'll stop at my SIL's house to borrow a CD and show him just how trashed one can get.

4 Comments

All this time it's my hair holding me back
by: Hifiman, 01-22-2009

Far too often I find myself learning important lessons in life far too late. It took a while, but I learned I'm not supposed to say "I don't care" to a woman even though to this day I still don't understand why. I've also learned it's impolite to belch whenever the mood hits me. I don't quite understand that one either. I'm good at it. Why can't I flaunt it? I've also learned I really shouldn't ask anyone if my butt looks big in my jeans unless I not only want to be told it does, but that my stomach also makes it difficult to determine whether I'm coming or going. At forty-two years of age I figured I'd pretty much learned every bit of truly useful knowledge I was ever going to learn. However, today I learned that I've been neglecting my hair.

I'm what you call a wash and wear kind of guy though truth be told I'm not all that fussy about the washing part. I get up, I go out, and then I do the things I do. For years now I've demanded a hairstyle necessary for a guy who's not really on the go, but generally doesn't care to be bothered with a comb so I keep my hair short. I made this decision many years ago. My wife doesn't seem to mind. This saves her any hassle since she's the one who cuts my hair. All she does is put a #2 guard on the trimmers and yells at me to sit still. I thought everything was perfect until today. I never knew just how important hair was until I saw the latest Axe hair product commercial on TV.

In this commercial they get three guys who are supposed to be models and they put wigs on them that are supposed to represent bad hair styles. Personally I don't really get it. I thought each of the hair styles looked fine. The guys still seemed attractive to me. I wouldn't do them, but I can imagine they get lots of action. In any case the hidden camera shows me how these good looking guys can't get any women to look at them because their hair isn't just right. Then it clicks. What if my hair's been holding me back too?

You know at the mall I rarely make eye contact with anyone. Once or twice I've tried smiling at a woman or two, but usually they open their purse to show me they're packing mace or a tazer. I leave them alone. I've always thought it was my age. I'm forty-two, but most days my bones ache like I'm pushing sixty. I figured that alone was putting out the bad vibe. I'm also a tad overweight, just like the economy is just a tad off. I know that can be a big turn off to people as well. My skin's not the greatest either. My hands make good sandpaper in a pinch. I'm always tempted by the people in the demonstration booths at the mall to try out some skin care products, but I can't picture me sitting in front of the TV on a Sunday morning watching a race while I go through a whole moisturization ritual. It's just not me. Besides, I'm worried that'll lead to cucumbers on the eyelids. I'm still self-conscious about picking out a cucumber in the produce section. Well it turns out it was none of the above. All this time it's been my hair and I'm just sure my wife knew.

That Axe commercial has made me realize that I've neglected this part of me far too long. I've got to grow it out first so I can style it. That'll take a while, but it's actually good. This will give me plenty of time to decide on just the perfect hair color to dye it and get all the gray out. Of course this means that I've got to shop for a comb or even worse, a brush. Then I guess there's the issue of a hair dryer. Do I use my wife's or do I get my own? I suppose this also means I've got to investigate things like mousse (I'm so ashamed I know how to spell that) and gel for my hair. I haven't used any of that stuff since I was just out of high school. I'm not even really sure where to find it in the store these days. I hope it's near the foot care section because I could really use another pair of Dr. Scholl's shoe inserts (also really embarrassing that I know that too). The way I look at it I've got probably six months before I'm turning heads in the mall for reasons other than my drop-dead-sexy belly jiggle. No wonder my wife encouraged me to cut all my hair off. She wanted me all to herself. Well, you know I do love her. For her peace of mind maybe I'll leave my hair alone. From now on when I see women in the mall make a move for their mace I'll just enjoy a private chuckle that I know what they're missing.

7 Comments

Is laughter really the best medicine?
by: Hifiman, 01-19-2009

At the end of it all yesterday I just had to laugh at the way the day turned out. We had a math walkthrough by the district math coach scheduled for the end of the week for the intermediate grades. I was scheduled on Friday. Fine, I didn't care one bit. On Friday we would be taking our chapter test. Come in, look around, stay as long as you want and feel free to put your feet up while you're at it. But then I learned earlier in the week from our RSP teacher who had been out attending a math training with our administrator that we would be pulled out for a meeting with the coach. She said that our administrator asked the math coach to pull us out of our rooms and talk with us instead of doing a walkthrough. This teacher says the math coach told her she had no idea what she was supposed to talk with us about. She also said that she didn't want to pull us out because she knew that would tick us off and she already knew people didn't like her. The funny part about all this is that the administrator sent out an email informing us that the math coach asked to have individual meetings with each of the intermediate teachers.

I didn't want to leave my class during a test. I've done that before and never get good results. I rearranged my schedule so that we would be ready to test on Thursday instead. That worked out really well. Maybe even better than my previous plans.

On Friday I was pulled out during the last five minutes of my ELD block - a block that I always assumed was untouchable. No big deal though. I actually planned on covering it later in the day. I walk up to the room where the coach is and she immediately tells me that our principal has asked her to meet with us. Before I could laugh at that I hear her sort of appologize because her job requires her to do walkthroughs. I've gotta tell you that this really rubbed me the wrong way, especially in light of the other information I came across from that RSP teacher. My issue is that if a person is going to accept a job in a supervisory or managerial position then own it. Do the job - including the things that people don't like - because it HAS to be done. Most teachers are adults. Sure we love to complain, but still, on some level I have to believe most of us understand.

This math coach then tells me I have five minutes to vent about anything I want. I tell her there's no need. I've already said everything I need to say about the district's expectations for math. She seemed happy that I didn't want to vent. But inevitably we got into the subject of the district-produced math tests - a real sore spot for me, but I'll save you from the details. That's when the venting started and I could see that I immediately hit her button. I could tell she was pissed with me because she couldn't hide her facial expressions. Who knows, maybe she's the one who made these awful tests. After a two-minute rant she tells me that the math materials the district purchased are only "tools." We have to follow the state standards framework to ensure we teach our students everything. What a joke. First, our pacing is very tight and very specific as to what will be taught each day. There simply is no option for alternatives for students who are struggling with concepts they are simply not developmentally ready to understand. And lastly, I understand the implication by her words. I need to supplement with other materials and resources. I won't do that. We have a brand new math adoption that the district purchased. If it's inadequate they need to provide me with supplementary material. How dare they assume that I will provide it out of my own pocket.

Once I fully realized how ticked she was I felt no need to continue. She asked me if I needed any help or support from her. I was honest and told her no. It might have come off rude, but really, my best support are the other teachers on campus. I was probably in the meeting with her for all of six or seven minutes. It was such a waste. Even though she had no idea what she was supposed to meet with us about she should have come up with something. And if the best she could come up with was allowing us a moment to vent and then ask for support then she should have given us the heads-up ahead of time so we could think of something on our end. I really don't like having my time wasted.

After school I worked on my data wall. I had to update it to show student progress on the latest benchmark tests per the morning announcement over the PA. I did it. I had lots of positive movement in math, but only had a few climb in language arts. Several dropped.

On the way home I had to stop at the vet to pick up our new dog. It was far and I didn't really know how to get there, but I headed off in the direction I figured I'd eventually find it. This meant I went through parts of town in our district that I've never seen before. It turns out there is a high school really close to my school. As I drove by I saw a huge electronic marquee out near the street in front of the school. It said something to the tune of congratulations to the following students for improving their state test scores by x number of points. At the stop light I looked in the rear view mirror. Yup, it was displaying full names of students who did well on their states tests. Sometimes all you can do is laugh.

12 Comments

The data wins
by: Hifiman, 01-15-2009

Well I give up. I've tried my hardest with this whole data wall thing. I feel like I fought the good fight within reason, but I've lost. Last week I asked the VP about this situation when I had heard that the names of students who reached their benchmark goals would be announced over the PA and the students would receive prizes. My issue at that time (one of many) was that there was never a clear guideline as to what the goals should be. In other words I wanted this measure standardized across the school so everyone would set their goals equally. He agreed and said he would pass it along. Well he passed it along and we received an email addressing this concern. I don't know, maybe it was miscommunicated or someone misunderstood, but nothing has changed. The email acknowledged that there were concerns about these goals, but only reiterated that it was essentially up to the teacher to determine what the goals were for each student. To me that makes no sense at all.

This morning they started announcing the names of the students who met their goals. It took quite a bit of class time and this only covered a few classes. I imagine this will continue for several more days. I just find it very amusing to think that we are to maximize our instructional time in every way possible, yet it's ok to halt instruction for these kinds of lengthy announcements.

I did find one other bit of amusement today as we were coming in from recess. The teacher who had this class at the beginning of the year is now a resource teacher. Lots of my students were giving her a hug as they filed into the classroom. I heard her ask several students why they did poorly on their tests (I can only assume it's the latest benchmark she's referring to.). I thought to myself that it seems my best efforts at keeping their individual performance private from other students is just a complete waste of time if other people with access to the data think nothing of saying something out loud in front of others. I don't know most of the teachers on campus. I have no idea if they have an opinion on this one way or another, but sometimes I just feel like I'm the only one sensitive to this issue. I hope not.

6 Comments

Baby Huey fooled me. Well, they all fooled me
by: Hifiman, 01-10-2009

I survived my first two days back after vacation. I didn't want to get out of bed on Monday even though I was excited to be back. I had been studying up on power teaching and had decided that's the way to go for me. Well, at least I'd hoped so. It requires me to be a bit more exuberant than I'm comfortable with, but I figured I'd give it a go. I had tried love and logic. I really felt like that offered a lot, but it just never quite gelled with my personality.

Monday was a bit of a downer. I'm sure I've mentioned it before, but my school chooses to do one of the oddest things in my opinion. We have a morning announcement. The principal gives a brief message to the students and then has what is sometimes a fairly lengthy message for faculty as well. Odd. On Monday during this announcement we were told the results are in for our most recent benchmark testing and that we needed to determine which of our students met their goals. The principal then said the names of those students meeting their goals would be announced. Oh great.

I had fussed about having this data wall for all to see. I also didn't like having my students' data on their desks with their goals for the next benchmark for all to see. I assigned each student a number and had them write that number inside the back of their journals - for their eyes only. They also wrote down their goals for ELA and Math in the same place. I felt I had one fire put out with that. But my problem is with the goals themselves. There was no direction as to how these goals should be set. I asked around at my grade level and everyone had set the goals to move up one band. So basics should move to proficient, and so on. I think it's too lofty a goal for some students depending on where they scored, but I just followed suit to be done with it and be in compliance. Now I'm concerned. If students' names are going to be broadcast then I think it's important that the setting of these goals be standardized across the campus. If some teachers decided to set goals by percentages then they very well might have quite a few students who met their goals. This leaves my students out in the cold. I just don't like it. I voiced my concerns to the VP and I'll see if anything comes from that. I'm hoping to hear something before I have to turn in my list of people who met their goals. The way it is now I have one student who barely scored twenty percent on the first benchmark, yet scored over forty percent on the second. He's still far below basic, but he made an improvement that may not be recognized by admin.

Today was an interesting day. Again I followed the power teaching guidelines and covered each of the five rules. It's a crack up. Most like it. Some don't. Today we started taking baby steps toward preparing ourselves for the Crazy Professor reading game. We did this by reading dramatically from our anthology. I have a class of very low readers. We still choral read, but we had lots of fun being dramatic about it. It started of slowly. I then described to them how actors on a stage, like a Broadway play, have to really go over the top with their speech and their action so they can convey the proper emotion to everyone in a large audience. I have no idea if what I said had any basis in reality, but they bought it and did a great job. I was thankful no one walked in during this. I felt like what little grasp I had on my manhood was completely lost today. Tomorrow we add the hand gestures while we read. I'm trying to prepare myself mentally, but I'm worried the whole process will put me over the edge and I'll start sacheting all over the campus.

Everything was going great until two things happened. One of today's lessons for writing was to write a memo. I wasn't sure I had time for it, I probably wasn't going to do it, but I kept it on my plans and agenda in case I needed a filler. Later in the day I received the materials for my class to participate in a program called Read to Achieve. It's sponsored by the Los Angeles Lakers. It's a cool program. The incentive is to get kids to read six chapter books in six weeks in return for some recognition, some prizes, and entry into a drawing for more prizes. They were so excited. I was sort of excited, but it's hard to get too excited about basketball. All I know about basketball is that Kobe's wife will look the other way for a huge diamond ring and that each game has nine innings. Why couldn't NASCAR sponsor something like this? Maybe reading isn't so important in the redneck community.

Anyway I see the book log that goes home doesn't really tell the parents much about the program. So I get an idea. I decide that we are going to write a memo to our parents to tell them all about this program and the prizes we could win. Now as much as I love to write I can't teach writing for the life of me. I stink at it. On top of that almost no one in my class likes to write (big surprise, huh?). It's like pulling teeth most days. I have some who make an effort. I have others who turn in garbage I can't read. I even have one boy, the one I've named Baby Huey, who turns in writing that looks like he had a seizure the whole time. I even mentioned it to the teacher who started with this class at the beginning of the year. She said she had him in third grade and he hasn't improved at all (I should mention this is the same student I previously mentioned who jumped over twenty percentage points on the benchmark). His writing has always been that bad. So ok, I've always figured he has some issue with fine motor skills and I'm never going to see anything I can possibly read coming from him. Oh no, it turns out he and the rest of the class have been playing me.

We pretty much did the memo together. I modeled how to format it. I also modeled the content because I wanted them to get the information accurate. As usual they can choose their own wording if they like theirs better. We've done the modeling thing before. I never get stellar results. Well today I'm walking around taking a look. I was floored. I had never seen such penmanship from ALL of them. This was as close to perfection as anyone could ever expect. And Baby Huey? Well, let's just say that if you put his paper in the stack with everyone else's and asked me to pick it out I wouldn't have been able too. He not only knows how to hold a pencil, he can write with the best of them. So who knew that students had to have the proper motivation to actually do good work? But I've got 'em now. Now that their secret's out I just dare them to turn in something sloppy. I will sachet right on over to them so damn quick and make them redo it til they're as old and gray as me.


And on a side note, thanks everyone, for the comments.

10 Comments

The cost of freedom
by: Hifiman, 01-16-2009

In a recent post I relived some issues with every job I've had. It was quite an experience writing it and bringing those memories to the surface once more to deal with. I found that the only memories that truly stuck with me since then are the memories of my family. I've had so many thoughts racing around my mind, but I've not really allowed myself to focus on any one for too long. I thought I'd write about it as a means of dealing with it. I started yesterday morning, but at about a third of the way through I erased it. I thought maybe some things are best kept private and I didn't think anyone would care to read it. I almost started over last night, but again I thought better of it. This morning I thought I'd give it another go. I've got R.E.M.'s Automatic for the People playing on iTunes - an album I've given up years ago, but the mood of the album seems appropriate. Let's see if I make it all the way this time.

I know very little about my family. My mom was a very domineering person. My dad was the complete opposite. I have a brother sixteen years older than me who I learned much later in life is only a half-brother. At that time I also learned I had another half-brother I never knew existed. I've never met him. I have no desire to. All I know is that he lives in Tuscon. I did see a picture of him, but I couldn't tell you his name. Beyond that I feel as though I know nothing of my family, but what little I do know is worthy of a Jerry Springer episode.

I have very few memories of my childhood. I was essentially an only child growing up. My brother moved out of the house about the time I was born. I barely saw him. I knew almost nothing of him. My first memory is of me in a steel cage in a hospital. I assume it was the institutional version of a crib. I know I was around two, probably close to three, at the time. I was there to have my tonsils removed. I remember sitting inside this cage in a dark room in the middle of the night. I desperately needed to use the bathroom. I remember calling for someone to help me, but no one came. My next memory is of me being rolled to surgery on a gurney. I was staring at the ceiling. That's it. I have no memory of anything else there. I don't recall ever seeing my parents around the hospital, but I assume they must've been around at some point.

My next memory is of me sitting in a dark kitchen with a plate full of creamed corn and crying. I didn't want to eat it, but I wasn't allowed to leave the kitchen until I had. I don't remember the outcome, but I have that image in my mind very vividly.

I have one more memory about food. This time it was McDonald's. They had some Big Mac promotion where you buy a Big Mac meal and you get it served on a Wham-O frisbee. I really wanted that frisbee. My mom ordered it for me, but I remember her being very upset that I couldn't eat all of the Big Mac. She withheld the frisbee from me. I have no memory of ever getting it from her, but I assume she relented at some point.

My mom was the disciplinarian in the family. She seemed to enjoy it with a thrill. She loved spanking me with my toys. Her favorite was a piece of my orange Sizzler track. I had a lot of that track. I would spend hours in my room setting up some elaborate stunt for my Hot Wheels cars, but once you've been spanked with the track a few times that tends to take the joy away from it.

The curious thing about my mom was that her life to me was a complete mystery. I knew she had family, but she never liked to speak of them unless it was to say the most vile things she could think of. I know she had a sister that she particularly despised, but again, she gave no clue as to why.

My dad was a mystery too. I knew he worked in a factory. I'm almost positive he assembled air conditioners. I remember riding in the car with my mom to pick him up. She didn't work. She had a bad back and had been on disability as long as I knew her. I think the injury was from a fall when she worked at a meat packing plant.

My dad never really interacted with me. I remember he liked to watch wrestling on channel 56, I think. I watched it with him, but that was it. He never really talked to me or did anything with me.

My parents like to argue too. They never seemed to mind that I was their audience. They would really go at it too. But you know if you had to live with my mom I guess you'd argue about things too. One time they had a particularly nasty argument - again it was in front of me. My mom said maybe they should get divorced. My dad said he was up for it. I wasn't the least bit saddened. This seemed like my chance to get away from mom. I mentioned that I wanted to live with my dad. I'll never forget what happened next. He was sitting on a kitchen chair. He looked over at me and said, "What makes you think I want you with me?" That crushed me. I went to my room to cry for a while about that one. In hindsight though it was probably a good thing. I knew I had parents that didn't care about me. It's good to know something like that so there's no misunderstandings in life. They never did divorce.

When I was about nine or ten my family moved from Phoenix to Riverside, CA. My dad became very ill on the drive over. In California we learned he had renal failure. He spent quite a few years on dialysis. He was always very sick and in and out of the hospital. It's so strange to think of it now, but he sort of just existed in that house. At times our house was set up to give him dialysis treatments in one of the rooms. My mom took care of him. His health was poor and he never interacted with either of us really. I remember him being in the hospital for what would be his last time. He had severe dementia at that point. I remember the night he died so clearly though I couldn't tell you the day or the year he died. I think it was 1983. I was asleep in my room when the phone rang. I came into the living room. My mom was there with a friend, she told me my dad had just died and she needed to make arrangements. She then told me to go back to bed. I did.

My dad's death had no effect on me. I felt no emotion to it at all. Right now as I type this I am so ashamed to admit it, but we weren't close and he made no effort to connect with me.

Moving to California was also significant in that it was the last time I would see my brother for the next thirteen years or so. He helped us move, but had another falling out with my mom and disappeared. He was so lucky to have been able to do that. It was a dream of mine that I never had the courage to do. I admire him for being able to do that.

The years that followed produced lots of drama. There's really not much need to go into any specifics. It was traumatic, but I lived through it all. Things continued as normal until I got a call from my mom some time in 1990. She said my brother had made contact with her and he's been living all this time in a nearby city just about twenty minutes away. She gave me his number and I called him from work. After talking for a bit I made arrangements to see him that afternoon.

I remember seeing my brother for the first time that day. It was weird. He came out to greet me and asked if it was ok to hug me. We did the brief hug thing even though I hate hugging. One of his first comments was that I was fat. His next comment was about our mother. He asked if our mom had ever hugged me or said she loved me. She had never done either. He said she never did either to him as well. He asked if I thought that was strange. I had never given it any thought before. It just never registered before then.

My brother then talked about my father. I noticed he never said "our" father. He told me how irritated he was that that man always called him "Boy," and never by his real name. In about twenty minutes or so my brother got down to the nuts and bolts of the things he felt I needed to know. He commented about the length of time he'd been gone and how at the time he felt it to be the necessary thing to do, but now he wanted to try and develop some kind of relationship with our mom. He then settled in to tell me the story as he knew. A story I had idea existed.

First I learned that he was my half-brother. My mom had him from a previous marriage. That blew me away. I had no idea my mom had been married before. It was a bit unsettling to find out my brother was truly only my half-brother. To this day it still stings every time he makes that distinction. I just want to know him as my brother. He told me I had another half-brother in Tucson. That blew me away to know there was family out there I had never known about. It also made me a bit sad to think that my brother shared a relationship with someone who was a full brother to him, while I felt somehow incomplete.

I then learned the story that was originally told by this other brother. At some point many years ago my mom had left him with family and had abandoned him She and the man I had known as my dad had decided to keep the the brother I have known. It was really unthinkable. The whole thing was quite a lot to take. My brother said that he had spent enough time dealing with this and staying away from the family. He wanted to start a relationship with my mom again, but first he had to confront her about this story. He did. She denied it. She said that she and my dad had dropped the two boys off with family and left to get married, but when they returned they only found my brother. The family had hidden the other child from her. My parents then left with the one child and simply let it go. It was an obvious lie. No parent would ever let someone take a child against their wishes and then simply accept it without calling for police, etc.

My mom stuck to her story. It was obvious we would never hear the truth from her. Maybe after all these years she had truly forgotten the truth and had instead believed her own lies. Who knows. For a moment it looked as if this long lost child was going to make the trip to California to come see our mother. She seemed excited about it, but it never materialized. My brother said the other brother had canceled. His family was dead set against him seeing her. They wanted nothing to do with her and didn't want him exposed to her either. In hindsight that's a very wise choice. No one should ever have to be exposed to her. Still, somewhere out there is the truth. I suspect there are even more things that would surprise me. I'll never know.

Well time passed on. My brother did his best to reconcile his relationship with our mom. During this time my relationship with her deteriorated. My wife tried to keep me involved with my mom, but it was a losing battle. At one point my wife got upset with my mom. I forget the specifics, but during the course of the converastion the two of them had my mom had made the accusation that I had hit her when I was younger. My wife got very upset by that and yelled at her. My wife never yells at anyone so she really had to be upset by the exchange. Personally that accusation really hurt. To this day I have never hit anyone. I certainly never hit my mom. I talked with my mom about it, but she insisted it happened. In any case I had had enough. It was time to end this. I stopped seeing her.

My brother tried to put the guilt trip on me, but it wouldn't work. He had checked out of the family for thirteen years. He did it to save himself. Now I needed the same. I refused to see or talk to her. After a couple of years her health deteriorated and she went to the hospital for the last time. My brother urged me to go see her. I didn't want to, but eventually my conscience got the best of me. I drove to a strange hospital. I found her room and went inside. She was asleep. I sat in a chair across from the bed and waited. Eventually she woke up. She looked straight at me, but said nothing. I left. A few days later she died. I can't tell you the day or the year. It's not important to me. It has no meaning to me other than freedom. I felt like a huge weight had been lifted after so many years of suffering. Right now I'm crying for the first time since learning of her death. I'm not crying for her, but rather the joy of knowing what true freedom is finally like.

My brother and I had to go through her things after that. She had always said she had taken care of all the arrangements for her death, but we found nothing. Her house was the same mess it had always been. She was a packrat and there was almost nothing in the house that wasn't fit for the trash. My brother had insisted I call around for a place to cremate her. He was going to pay for it and recoup the cost by selling the few items she had that were worth something.

The following is disrespectful. Some may be happier not reading further.

A few days later my brother calls me and says the ashes are ready. He insisted I pick them up. He didn't want to be involved with that. I guess that kind of thing freaked him out. I didn't want to do it either, but conceded. I remember driving to pick up the remains. I was given a very heavy box. I didn't want to touch it. Not because I was squeamish (sp?), but because I didn't want to be that close to her ever again. I grabbed the box and quickly put it in the trunk of my car. There it stayed for a day or two. I had no idea what to do with it. My brother wanted no part in what was to be done with them. He had suggested that I sprinkle them where my father is buried. I couldn't do that. I know the cemetery he's buried at, but I've never been there. I didn't want to search for him and truth be told I doubt there was any love there. I was doing him a favor by keeping the two of them separate.

Eventually it occurred to me that there was still a lone orange tree orchard not far from our house at the time. I drove there and opened the box. I didn't want to look inside, but had to. The ashes were like gravel. They represented so many years of grief. So many lies. They represented truths that would never be revealed. These ashes were contained in a thick plastic bag. It was a bear to tear it open, but I did. I then dumped them at the base of a tree and left the box and plastic there as well. I sped off and never looked back.

I'm not proud of the way it all ended. I know most people don't understand. All I can say is that there is no explanation or defense. You have to live it to understand.

27 Comments

1 Attachment(s) New Year's Resolutions
by: Hifiman, 01-04-2009

Well it's time for some New Year's resolutions. I've never been one to really give this much thought, but there's a first time for everything. To be fair though, I've got to choose resolutions that I know are realistic goals, otherwise I'm doomed to failure from the start.

Probably the number one resolution for most people is to lose weight. Health clubs, gyms, and the whole exercise/weight loss business sector counts on it. I really need to lose weight so it's an obvious first resolution for me. But you know, I've done the weight loss thing many times before and I know this - there are a million different ways to lose weight. Regardless of one's method of choice each method can either be very easy and produce great results, or the hardest thing ever attempted with no weight loss to show for the effort. It's 100 percent mental. You have to truly want it and not just say you want it. And it has to be for your own reasons, not someone else's. Every evening I go to bed telling myself I'll start tomorrow. Every morning I wake up with the same commitment - every single day. But it's the hours in between where my memory lapses and I get lost in the moment with a hamburger or a candy bar. I want to lose weight, but mentally I really haven't made the true commitment to it yet. So that resolution is out, but maybe I can take baby steps until I'm ready. This year could be the year I go for unprocessed and organic foods. Yeah, that's the ticket. I need to check the internet to see if I can find organic gummi bears. That's a start, right?

Another common resolution has to do with drinking, smoking, or some other similar vice. I don't drink much at all. I certainly don't smoke, so the issue isn't really about giving these things up. Maybe my resolution should be to do one of these more. Smoking is out. It's too expensive, smells horrible, and I couldn't bear the thought of the damage it would do to the interior of my car. So this leaves drinking.

I know that drinking wine is an adult thing to do. It seems so grown up. People really seem to savor a glass or two with a nice meal. I've tried wine every once in a while. I usually choke on the first sip. To me it just tastes awful. I might as well take a shot of cough syrup, which I hate nearly as much as wine.

Beer is an adult beverage that lots of people consume. I've really tried over the years. As a teenager I forced can after can down, but I never got the taste for it. To me it tastes like malted battery acid. There was a time in my youth where I really felt like I was letting down the Budweiser girls. They had given me so much in terms of posters to lust after, yet I couldn't do my part to help them keep their jobs. I've always felt bad about that. I don't see them around these days. I wonder if any of them ever did go to medical school. So except for the occasional Corona with lime when I'm in Vegas beer's no good.

I do like margaritas. I especially like a frozen melon margarita. It's sweet and tangy and I can't taste any alcohol. The problem is it's a bit embarrassing to order one. It's no problem for my wife. You expect a woman to want a flavored margarita, but it's a bit embarrassing for a guy to order one for himself. One time at a restaurant I ordered a strawberry margarita. It was so good, but I felt like everyone in the restaurant was staring at me when the waiter brought it to my table. I knew they all thought my wife was my beard.

So I think my New Year's resolution will be to bite the bullet and order a regular margarita. Still kinda girlie, but not quite as bad as ordering a flavored one. Maybe I'll even tell them to hold the salt once or twice.

Relationship resolutions are always popular. People either want to take steps to get in a relationship or work on improving the ones they have. I'm embarrassed to come out and say this, but I've got to work on both this year. Things are going well with my wife. I also have a good relationship with my son. But if I'm being honest with myself I've got to admit that I have trouble staying the course of my relationships and I've lived to regret that so many times. I don't want this to keep happening with my other relationships.

The first serious problem was about seven years ago maybe. I had a Definitive Technology PF 1800 subwoofer that I absolutely loved. We were inseparable. I always bragged about that sub. But time marched on and our relationship staled. I had taken it for granted and truthfully it just didn't thrill me anymore. I wanted to move on. Eventually I sold it to my brother. I remember the day I drove it down to him. I helped him carry it in his living room. I stayed just long enough to set it up and then I was gone without ever looking back. I had a new sub I loved. It was a Mirage BPS-400. That sub was superior in many ways. It was great. It thrilled me and I never thougt about that first sub. As time moved on I replaced that Mirage with a new Definitive Technology Supercube Reference. That was a mistake. Having another Definitive sub brought back so many emotions. I realized that even though I've continually upgraded to better subs, there's still nothing quite like my first. It'll always have a special place in my heart. I often think of it. It bothers me that it still sits in my brother's house. It's probably never been dusted and I'm sure it reeks of smoke. I want it back in my life, but I don't think I could stand to see what it's become. I've got to let go.

I had a similar problem with my car I traded in a bit over a year ago. It was an '03 GT Cruiser. I loved that car. I had it for five years. I babied it and customized it a bit here and there. But again, the day came when it no longer thrilled me in the same way. It was getting old. It was out of warranty and it was starting to have problems. I gave it one last washing and cleaned the interior one last time. I drove to a nearby dealer and traded it in for a new car. After I locked the door and went in the showroom I never looked back at it once. I left it there as I drove away in another car. This car is more reliable, but it's just not the same. It has no style. No personality. There's not a day that goes by where I don't stare at a white Cruiser going by. I'm hoping to see mine. To say goodbye one more time. I've never seen it again and it hurts deeply to think about it and wonder what's become of it.

I'm tired of repeating that cycle, but I don't know what to do. I love new cars and I love new subwoofers. The best I can shoot for is a resolution where I force myself to take some alone time with a possession to make sure I won't have regrets before I make a life altering decision. And in the meantime I'm going to make sure I nurture these relationships to their fullest. No more regrets in the new year.

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Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now
by: Hifiman, 01-02-2009

I was looking for a job, and then I found a job
And heaven knows I'm miserable now


In my life
Why do I give valuable time
To people who don't care if I live or die ?

Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now - The Smiths


Lately I've had two things on my mind. This song by the Smiths and the movie Office Space. Both of them speak to me and I have internalized them over the years.

I came across this song by the Smiths many, many years ago when I was just out of high school. Specifically the verse I've posted. Almost all of my life I have struggled with my feelings toward the jobs I've had. They never satisfied me on any level and they were all more stress than they were worth.

My first job was in my early teens. I was a paperboy back when they still had real paperboys. I wanted the job so badly. I tried for a while to get one. Finally the guy in charge gave me a route. It was the biggest route in that distribution center. It provided a nice bit of money, but it also meant that Sundays were a bear. I packed the papers tightly in my bags on my bike's front handlebars. Dangerous. My bike was so front heavy and could barely be steered because of the bags. It was about a good ten minutes before I had thrown enough to make things more comfortable. Having a paper route was tough. This was back in the days when people just didn't leash dogs or contain them in their yards. I was always chased. I was dumb too. I raced away from these dogs. I should have carried a good sized stick or a bat to smack them with. One way or another they would have learned not to come after me.

I had more wrecks on that route than I could count. My bags would get caught in the front spokes and I would go sailing over my bars. This was also back in the day when helmets were unheard of. But you know at that age you just brush it off, repair the bike, and continue on with life. I remember one time I really took a bad spill. I really wrecked my bike beyond repair. It was mangled. I was really hurt too. I walked home the rest of the way, dragging my bike with me. My mom took one look at the bike and insisted that I couldn't have wrecked. She thought there must've been a bully who did this to my bike. Really mom? That would have been one really huge monster of a bully to do the damage that the bike had been subjected to. She didn't seem to care that the front of my thighs were so bruised they were completely black.

The thing I hated worst of all about the route was the monthly collection. About half my customers would pay me without a problem. About a quarter of the rest were difficult to track down. And many had those damn dogs loose in the yard. I hated having to walk through the yard dodging those damn dogs only to find no one willing to answer the door. The last quarter of my customers always told me to come tomorrow. I'd come tomorrow and hear the same thing. They would drag it out for weeks sometimes.

It was a miserable job in just about every way one can imagine, but it never occurred to me to quit. Thankfully I got hit by a car and that put it in my mind that I didn't need the route anymore. I don't remember any of it. I know I was riding across a street. The next thing I knew I'm lying in the middle of the street with a paramedic hanging over me. I looked up and saw my mom walking up. Someone had called her. Did she ask if I was ok? No. She told me she was getting someone to put my bike in her car. That's an image I've never gotten out of my mind after all these years. I was told that I was lucky to have survived. I had a head injury and was leaking spinal fluid out of my ears.

No one cared about my accident. My mom seemingly thought it was non-event. I even remember leaving the hospital to come home. I was feeling so sick to my stomach. I was dizzy and desperately wanted to lie down. My mom wanted to stop at Burger King first. I begged her not to, but food was more important. The people at the paper didn't seem to care. They contacted me to say that they found a sub for me and I would need to pay that sub the going rate unless I wanted to quit. I quit.

My next job didn't last very long. I was about sixteen and I worked as a telemarketer for the L.A. Times. I stunk at it. It was a few hours in the evening. There were a few high school kids working there and two adult women. The whole time there I think I had sold maybe two subscriptions. I got in trouble with the boss there too. Me and another guy were working in the office of the two guys running the place. I don't remember why we were in there to make our calls, but that's where they put us. The other guy opens a desk drawer and finds a huge stash of porno pictures cut out of some really sleazy magazines. I wish I could say I admonished the other guy and set him straight, but no, I opened the drawers in my desk hoping to find a similar stash. I wasn't disappointed. We were caught and I was going to be fired. I talked the guy out of it, but quit less than a week later.

My next job was right out of high school. I worked as a nurses aide at a developmentally disabled center. The place was in the worst condition one could possibly imagine. Very dirty. They hired nothing but high school kids and adults who probably never graduated high school. It was like a circus in there. I worked there for two years and I hated every last minute of it. At the time I was going to school to become a nurse. I figured I'd stay until I'd earned my license and then I would finally have a job I could enjoy. Well, that never materialized either.

I did earn my degree as an LVN. I had dreams of working in a hospital. Unfortunately afte a couple of months in the nursing program one of our instructors told us that LVNs were being phased out of acute care. Our only hope for employment was to work in long term care facilities. Oh joy! I wanted to drop out right then and there, but didn't. I graduated and passed my boards and then I was soon working in a nursing home. Guess what? I hated that too.

Up to this point I think my issue was maturity. I was only twenty and I was a nurse on my own with several aides working under me. I just wasn't mature enough to be in that particular field. And I wasn't mature enough to go to work while my friends were doing something else. So I called off work quite a bit. I always used any sick days or vacation days I had coming. I'd get them and immediately use them. Certainly I hadn't done anything careerwise to be proud of. I just sort of got through each day as best I could.

At one point I was fired from one nursing home. I had to take my annual physical. It was my first at this facility. I was hired at another one far away, dated someone there, wanted out of that job and that relationship and asked for a transfer. Don't throw anything! I know that was bad. I was a bad person.

So after this physical I come into work the next day and was told I was fired. The doctor felt I was too fat to do the job. They said he was worried I would hurt someone. I was stunned. I was fat. I always have been, but I wasn't circus freak large. I went home and heard that a woman I worked with wanted to see me. I went to her house. She greeted me wearing a t-shirt and panties. I was such a goober it never even registered in my brain. We talked for a bit and she said our union would help me out. Then I left. Nearly a month had passed and my union did indeed get my job back with back pay. I showed up to pick up my check and cash it. I was to start that evening. I heard they were having a welcome back potluck for me. You're kidding right? Humiliate the fat guy and when he comes back have a potluck for him. I never showed up for work there again. I was told later on that the real reason they fired me was because someone called in a complaint to the state. They thought it was me. That really floored me. I don't understand what I ever did that could have made someone think I would do that. Whatever.

Eventually I found my way to a plasma center and trained to do phlebotomy. It worked for me. The job required me to be a nurse, but didn't involve patient care. I spent fourteen years of complete misery there. The donors were primarily homeless people and others who were down and out. They were often very difficult to deal with. The job was physically demanding too. And because we gave packed cells back to the donors the job had a very critical component to it as well. Giving the wrong cells could be disastrous for the donor and meant instant termination. I saw it happen once. The donor didn't recieve the cells, but a wrong bag was connected. The nurse was debriefed and let go immediately after.

After about six months I was promoted to floor supervisor. That was the first big problem. I was young, male, and in charge of a floor full of women. They made my life miserable and I made theirs miserable too. It took me many, many years to learn to work with women. I really struggled with that. Fortunately I had a turn of events that helped me out quite a bit.

I really hated absolutely everything about that job. I was desperate to get out. I got a job managing the care providers in an adult day care for people with Alzheimers. I didn't last very long there. The woman I worked for was the most horrid person to be around. At lunch on my first day of the job I was seated between her and the PR person. The boss lady told me that she never imagined she would ever hire a man, but essentially told me that I was the only option of those she interviewed. Great show of confidence. I should have run out the door right then and there, but I was still quite young and about as dumb as they come. I didn't even make it two months there. One day I saw the husband of the lady I replaced, show up to talk to the boss. At the end of the day I was told I was fired. The reason I was given was that when one of the high school volunteers mopped the rec room I should have locked him in there to prevent a client from going in there and slipping and falling. I was devastated. About a week later I got a call from the PR lady who worked there. She wanted me to know on the down low that I was not fired because I did something wrong. The lady who had the job before me was relocating out of state, but that didn't work out and she wanted her job back. That's why the husband was there that day.

At this point in time I was married and the sole provider of health insurance. I was having difficulty finding a good job so I broke down and asked for my old job at the plasma center back. I was hired back to that same place I had spent so much time hating. But I was thankful. I was happy to have insurance again and this time the job didn't seem nearly so bad. That lasted for a while, but not nearly long enough. Those old feelings came back and each day was harder than the last to return to work.

Life continued on this path for quite a while. Eventually I saw a movie that spoke to me in much the same way as Morrissey (The Smiths) had. The movie was Office Space. I watched the main character working a job he hated. Living a life he didn't like living, and struggling to make it to work from one day to the next. Seeing a movie in which someone felt exactly the way I did really resonated with me. It was comforting to know it wasn't just me. Sure the character was fictional, but someone had to write the script and this meant at least one other person on the planet suffered just as I had. I love that movie. But in all honesty. I never really focused much on the actual movie. Each time I watched it I daydreamed that I too could be like that character and be hypnotized to not care. To just live my life for me, by my rules, regardless of the consequences.

Well life moved forward without that salvation. Eventually I was promoted to a management position in quality assurance. I loved that job for the most part. It transformed me as a person and a professional. It's just that after time the stress became almost too much to take. The company was in serious trouble with the FDA and those of is in QA were caught in the middle. On top of that my pay hadn't been increasing. They were hiring people with no experience as long as they had any degree, for much more than they were paying me. At one point I tried out for another promotion in the department, but was denied because of the lack of a degree. Guess who trained my new boss? Yup, it was me. Apparently my lack of degree could be overlooked in some situations.

Things continued on for six years in that position. The stress had really become too much. Just when things couldn't get worse we were robbed. I opened the center about 5am and heard the back door buzzer. I expected another employee and opened the door. I was knocked back by two guys. One with a handgun, the other had a shotgun. After smacking me in the head a few times with the gun they took me around the center as they ripped all the phone cords from the walls. Then they wanted me to open the safe. I was not part of operations in this center. I did not have access to the safe. Eventually that situation played itself out and they wound up with the money they wanted.

I had really had enough at that point. I wanted out of the job, but not really because of the robbery. I just wanted out of the stress. I had made plans to leave my position and take a part-time position repairing the plasmapherisis machines - something I had done in the past. Everything was set to go, but before that had happened I spoke with the center director and told her I had commited myself to simply quitting the job and leaving the company. She convinced me that this was likely due to the stress of the robbery. She asked that I seek counseling first. So I did. I called risk management and submitted my request and almost immediately went to see someone. I don't know if that was beneficial or not. I did learn that I did have issues with things after the robbery. Even more importantly I learned that my company wasn't happy that I had requested to see someone. No company likes the worker's comp thing. I was told they would honor my request to quit my current job, but that they didn't want me in the part-time position. After fourteen years it ended just like that. And so did my stress. I felt fifty pounds lighter almost immediately.

After that I finished my degree. I worked for a short time as a technical analyst for a medical university. I loved the people I worked with, but the job bored me to tears. I was happy to leave when I did. Eventually I started subbing and went back to school to get my credential and my master's. I'm on my third year teaching. I subbed for about a year and a half before that. I love it.

Teaching is something I enjoy. I like what I do. For the first time I take pride in telling people what I do for a living. That never happened before. This isn't to say I don't find plenty to complain about. I will always complain about something. But it doesn't mean that I don't like the job overall. I can now watch the movie Office Space in a much different way. I don't readily connect with the main character the way I used to. I like that. I'm ready for this long overdue change in my life, but I'm not quite there yet.

"I was looking for a job and then I found a job." I liked my job and I had hoped the search would be over, but it's not. I'm procrastinating in getting my application packets ready. I want to get them submitted by the beginning of next week. I've got to do what I can to make sure I have a job next school year. I'm not confident my district will keep me because of California's continuing budget crisis. Of course that means other prospects are slim too, but I've got to try.

I wish I could convey the emotions all of this entry brings up. It's some heavy baggage I have. At about the halfway point of this very long entry I stopped to go out to dinner with my family. The whole time I sat there reliving much of this history. I'm surprised how strongly I still feel about much of it. That's what I love about this blog though. I live in the moment and write what I'm feeling. Too many times I've hit the "post" button and then spent the next several hours stunned by what I've written, but after the feelings wear off I can honestly say I know of no better therapy.

16 Comments

Merry Christmas Everyone
by: Hifiman, 12-31-2008

I was about to post some nonsense, but instead, I'll save it for a bit.

I love doing the blog thing. It's very therapeutic for me on many levels - even with all the nonsense thrown in. I truly appreciate everyone who takes the time to read it. Thank you all for your support it helps more than anyone could ever guess. Thank you for the laughs and adding your own twist. And most of all, thank you not involving the authorities.


Merry Christmas all.

17 Comments

Oh the humanity!
by: Hifiman, 12-31-2008

I came home today feeling defeated. Today I realized that even though I like teaching 5th grade elementary the reality is that I might not be cut out for it. I’ve tried. I really have. I’ve worked hard on my classroom management. I still have lots of room for development, but I’ve got good procedures in place that work. I’ve got a good handle on behavior too. Sure there’s the occasional day where I wish I had a cage, some duct tape, and a tranquilizer gun, but those days are increasingly few and far between. Lately I’ve even had more days where I actually felt like I had taught something that stuck. But I was totally unprepared for today. I don’t think I can do it again.

This actually started late last week. Christmas break was quickly coming. I wanted to have a holiday party for my students and I wanted to have them make something to take home for their parents – two things I don’t have much experience with. A friend of my wife who is a long-time teacher suggested I go to Michael’s to pick up some ornaments to paint. I didn’t have supplies like paint or brushes (I just don’t do arts and crafts). She said the school would likely have the tempera paints on hand. As for brushes, she suggested I just have them use Q-tips so they could just be disposed of. Great! This sounded like something I could do. Best yet, it sounded so incredibly easy. This would let me have the time and energy I needed to focus on all the testing we had to complete this week.

I made a trip to Michael’s the next day. I looked for wooden ornaments I was told about. I found a decent selection and all were half off. I only had to pay fifteen cents for each one. Hell, I splurged and bought a few extras just in case. I then searched for the yarn section. I found it, looked around the store to make sure no one was nearby, and then ducked down an aisle to find red yarn. Luckily it didn’t take long. It was on sale too! Luck was on my side.

On Monday I talked with my class about the holiday party during lunch on Friday. It would be a minimum day so we were kind of limited on when we could have it. I sent home a note to the parents and had lots of people sign up to bring snacks in. Things continued to look up and once again I felt I didn’t have to focus too much energy on anything but getting through this testing.

During the week I took care of little things here and there. I found that our school did supply paint, but everyone had taken all the colors except blue. I also found large containers of glitter, so I took some silver, gold, and red glitter. Thankfully the kinder teachers let me raid their stash of paints. I was all set until I realized I needed glue. I was out. Luck was with me again because my next door neighbor at school let me use hers. Again, this was so easy. Everything was falling into place – until I let things get complicated.

My wife happened to mention something about getting tissue paper for the ornaments to wrap them in. I heard other teachers talking about the same thing. Tissue paper? Honestly I don’t do tissue paper. In fact I’ve given up on wrapping anything long ago. My wife usually wants clothes. I buy the clothes, I get the boxes, I put the clothes in the box – sans tissue paper, tape it up, and I’m done. If I’m feeling extra festive and I find a gift bag in the garage that’s the right size I just put the clothes in that and tape it shut. Done! Well, after hearing the talk of tissue paper I decided that my class is worth the extra effort. My wife helped. She was out at the store and picked me up some. I didn’t have to go shopping for any of it. Things were really looking up again and I felt ready for Thursday morning. That’s when I planned to have them make these ornaments. Still, I was stressed because again, I just don’t do art projects and feel really out of my element with this stuff.

Thursday went well. I had all the materials I needed. I prepared a back table for them to work on and called my first group back. The rest of the class was doing a great job working on their assignments. About the only thing I wasn’t prepared for was the popularity of glitter. These guys were going crazy with it. Some weren’t happy until they got a good quarter inch of glitter piled on their ornaments. The day wrapped with me feeling pretty good about this venture. It wasn’t bad at all and we all had fun doing this. I got such a kick out of many of these creations and the look of concentration on their faces. You would have thought some of these little guys were doing brain surgery. It was good fun and happy feelings that lasted until this morning. That’s when I found myself in over my head.

We wrapped up our work early and I put Polar Express on the LCD projector for them. I thought this would be the best time for me to have them bring me their ornaments so I could put a loop of yarn on them and wrap them in tissue paper. I had already cut my yarn in the morning and had it waiting for me. I took the tissue paper out of the bag and was stopped cold. I couldn’t figure out how to open it. It wasn’t in a plastic bag. It was just bundled with a band around the middle I thought the tissue paper I saw on the outside was part of the useable tissue paper, but it was glued shut. I couldn’t understand why. I kept trying to separate it gently so it wouldn’t tear. I was under the idea that all of the sheets would be this way. Well five minutes later I finally gave up and ripped it off. Then I realized the outer layer is the packaging. Everything inside was unglued. Thirty seconds later I had it cut into smaller pieces and I was ready to go.

I was in the middle of dealing with my third ornament that I was starting to feel a meltdown coming on. Trying to tie a knot in the yarn was giving me fits. My hands were really dry and the yarn was sort of sticking to my hands and irritating me. Every time I tried tying the knots I mostly just caused the ends of the piece of yarn to unravel. At one point I seriously considered just throwing the ornament in the tissue paper with the piece of yarn lying on top and billing it as a build-your-own for mom, but that was only part of the problem. The tissue paper got on every last nerve of mine. I’d ask each child which color of tissue paper he/she wanted, put the ornament in the middle, fold the tissue paper over it from all sides, and then tape it off. It should have neat and easy, but it wasn’t. I don’t know why, but I couldn’t even do that properly. Each one looked as if a child wrapped it. Finally I figured maybe that was ok, the parents will just assume their child wrapped it and think nothing of it. I finished the ornaments with just a few minutes to spare before we went off to lunch. I was sort of proud that my anxiety over this ornament thing didn’t outwardly show. I think I only made one or two kids cry.

During these few minutes I started putting out all the snacks everyone brought out on the table. I was all set. We would walk to the cafeteria, get our lunches, walk back, eat the lunches, eat some treats, and then bag up the rest in the paper bags they decorated today. Easy. It was – until we got in the room. I never really gave any thought to distributing the snacks. I guess I just figured it would somehow work out peacefully. Oh man was I dumb. You know it was so bad that I know I would have laughed at and teased anyone else doing this if I was there to observe it unfold. I would have commented on just how dumb that person was for being so unorganized and so hopeful for civility to prevail. I wish I could give you details, but honestly the whole incident is a blur. All I have are fleeting mental images really. I recall lots of excitement, a bit of yelling, lots of chaos, lots of foaming at the mouth, and on at least three occasions I think I was actually bitten because I didn’t get out of the way fast enough. I’m really worried about rabies.

Somehow I survived. More importantly my class survived. I’m still not quite sure where it went all wrong, but I put the blame on the tissue paper as the starting point of where things began to fail. I don’t think I have it in me to do this again. I told my wife I’m going to get those extra seventeen units I need to get a supplemental to teach secondary. They don’t have parties do they? At the very least I hope there’s no chance of making any crafts.

17 Comments

Well karma kicked me in the butt again today
by: Hifiman, 12-16-2008

I tempted fate. A couple of entries ago I complained about the number of trainings the administration scheduled for me this week. My issue is mostly about the lack of time I have to teach the things I need to teach for three important tests coming up this Friday and next week. Yesterday I went on a rant in the "Thread Killer" thread in the Teachers' Lounge here on PT. I complained about a training scheduled from late morning to the end of the school day. During the training I found out we were expected to work through lunch. I had to fuss about that. Then I had to fuss about the $5 pizzas they fed us with. It really ruined my rant to discover the pizzas were pretty good, but I soldiered on and kept complaining. Today I had to deal with Karma.

I knew I had a training scheduled for the same time today. I adjusted my lesson plans, but didn't include anything in the late afternoon because I was told the demo lesson would be taught in my class. I also didn't make myself lunch because I figured I'd be provided with more pizza today.

I got to work this morning and checked my email first thing. I had a message from the admin sent long after I went home yesterday telling me that my training time was switched to the first thing this morning. Of course it wasn't important to tell me the official start and ending time. I was livid. I really felt like this was unreasonable and a complete lack of respect to do this to me with what amounted to very little notice. I had to ask who I ticked off to deserve this. The reason I was given did make sense to me. I understand why this was done. What I can't understand is why it took someone until the last possible moment to decide they didn't like the scheduling.

So this morning was a mad scramble to come up with plans appropriate for a guest teacher. I couldn't just switch things around from afternoon to morning because my plans hinged on a demo lesson being taught in my class that was now canceled. I got it done, and met with the person who would be taking my class this morning. I had to apologize to him several times for things not being quite the way I would normally have them set up for someone else teaching my class. It did make me feel better when he said I still provided more than lots of other teachers.

Once I got to the classroom for the training I sat there doing my best Pee Wee Herman-at-the-Alamo impersonation. I couldn't keep the look of anger off my face as I sat there fuming. The funny part is that the consultant doing the training was nearly as stressed as I was because things were switched on her last minute. She was also misinformed that we had a dental assembly at 8am. It was actually scheduled for 8:30am. It made for a long and eventful morning. The sad part is that these consultants cost a lot of money. Why screw with them and the people attending their trainings? It amounts to paying lots of money and insisting on less value for that money. I'm going to have to write a rant about money this weekend.

Once the training was done I quickly went to my class. Wow were these guys wound up. I just wasn't in the mood. As I'm trying to get things sorted out and get instruction going, I get a call telling me to bring my class to a room in the main building to have sealant applied to their teeth. You have got to be kidding! We were told ahead of time about the dental assemblies in the morning, but we weren't told there would be something else later in the day. So I lost another half-hour there.

Tomorrow there's another consultant coming in to observe all the teachers in my grade level. I almost never get worked up over observations, but for some reason I'm nervous about this one. After today though I honestly can say I really don't care about her or her observation. I've just had it. She comes in she sees what she sees, offers me some feedback, and we go our separate ways.

When I got home tonight I order good pizza for delivery. I didn't even have to fight for the last piece.

8 Comments

The amazing thing about girls - no testicles
by: Hifiman, 12-08-2008

My last entry was getting pretty long so I ended it without talking about our dodge ball games. They were pretty funny. I had P.E. scheduled on Friday, but chose to reward them with an unexpected session on Thursday. Both days were fun.

On Thursday it was just my class playing. They ran the track for a bit and then we headed off to the basketball courts to play a few games of dodge ball. Now I have one student who plays in a football league and is very muscular for his age. He's good in the games, but not the best. He's always in the mix of things though and I would say that once about about every four games he gets hit in the testicles. I don't know why, but his testes are a magnet for red rubber balls. Each time he's hit he drops like a sack of potatoes and goes fetal. All the boys sympathize with him and want to help him in one way or another. The girls usually give an embarrassed giggle or two while he limps off the court to recover. After a breather he's back in the game.

During Thursday's game this boy had luck on his side and had no incidents with the ball. The game was going well and all the students were really into it. At one point one of my students really throws the ball hard and it hits the biggest girl in class squarely between her legs. You could hear the thump of the ball hit her a mile away. All activity stopped cold, you could almost hear a pin drop. It didn't seem to bother her and she barely noticed it. Before I could have a talk with the one who threw it all the boys started laughing uncontrollably. They thought it was the funniest thing to see a girl take a hit there and not have any pain. Once the girls realized what the boys were laughing about they started laughing too. It took a while, but the game continued as normal. Who knew dodge ball could be so enlightening?

On Friday we went out for another game. This time all the fifth grade classes were outside for P.E. On other teacher's class asked me if they could play our class. So we did. My class immediately groaned and fussed. Apparently they don't want to be social during dodge ball, but we powered through it. With all these kids on the court we used two balls. I thought it was very entertaining to watch. The two classes were fairly well matched in skill. It was comical thought to hear the constant accusations of cheating from both sides. My worst cheaters in my class can really play up the angelic face in a pinch. I have one boy in my class (the one who insists on throwing the ball too hard) who is the worst ball hog. At the beginning of the last two of the games we played I told the students in the other class that I had a Tootsie Pop for anyone who got him out. He never knew I put a price on his head.

The last game we let run out until the very last person was left standing who happened to be my Baby Huey. It was so cool. When the last person from the other class was taken out my whole class cheered for him. It was so neat to see his face really light up. During the walk back to the classroom they all kept chanting his name. I bet he's thinking about that win all weekend.

2 Comments

Nachos 1 - Pop Tarts 0
by: Hifiman, 12-07-2008

My first week back since being off track for a month is done and in the books. Overall it was a good week, but the stress is really beginning to pile up. This coming week is going to be quite a challenge to my mental well being. I have to remember to take it just one day at a time.

The first day back for the students was on Tuesday. I only have fourteen days with these kids before we're off track again. I've got so much testing scheduled I can't spare a moment's time. I'm not behind in anything, but this pacing is going to kill me. First, I've got an ELA theme skills test due on the last week before break and I've still got two selections in HM to teach before that test. So this week I had to compact the first of these two selections into four days. Time is tight, but as you all know there's always a ton of things that come up beyond our control that make things even tighter.

Tuesday was a bit frustrating. First, I noticed two students moved during the break. One I was very sad to see go. The other was a nice enough guy, but he was very far behind and had a huge attendance problem that interfered. So I admit I was a bit relieved to see him go. I also had a new student. The VP opens my door and I see his attention focused on something on my ramp. I go to the door to see what's up and see that my new student is glued to the wall of the class on the ramp. He wouldn't budge. His mom was there too holding a young one. You could see she was starting to get really irritated with him. The VP told her to leave, he would be alright. So she did. Then the VP left too. That left me out on the ramp with a terrified kid. My class is inside on their first day back and they're eating breakfast. I'm worried about the chaos in the class (no chaos it turns out, but you never know). I made several attempts to get the new student in class, but no luck. I even told him my class was eating breakfast right now and he we had plenty for him. "We have Pop Tarts," I said. No good. I told him I had a really good class and I'm sure he would enjoy the other kids. No good either. Finally I just said, "Will you please just step in the door? I haven't seen my class in a month and I'm anxious to hear how they've been." That worked. Once inside he went straight to his desk and put his head down. Within a half-hour you would never have guessed he was a new kid in class.

The rest of the day was one interruption after another. The stress piled on with each email I received. Not only did I have the theme skills test (with two fluency tests) to prepare for and administer, I now had the official email telling me that I had to give the district benchmark tests for LA and math on the same week (I suspected it would be given during this time, but I held out hope). I also learned that I would have to give up one half day to a sub next week to work with a SDAIE consultant and watch her demo a lesson, debrief, etc. I'm thankful for the opportunity, but the timing stinks. The following day I will have to prepare to teach a lesson for yet another school consultant for critique. Then in another email I learned that next week I will have to give up yet another half day to a sub to attend a Steve Dunn writing training. How in the hell am I supposed to teach? I desperately need that time to prepare for the tests I have to give. But it gets worse. Next week there's a dental assembly, what that is I have no idea, but it did involve permission slips. I can't imagine how long that will take. Honestly, I would just give the tests and say oh well, they score what they score, but I'm being evaluated this year and both these tests will be used on my evaluation.

It wasn't bad enough that my next week was totally shot, but this week was deteriorating too. I had too many things dragging down instruction on Tuesday as it was. I then got another email letting me know that Dibels testing was scheduled on Thursday. You know how it goes, the testing will take twenty-five minutes, but it's actually forty-five minutes later when we get to return to class. Actually though the Dibels testing was the highlight of my week.

My students and I were waiting in a large room across from the classroom where they were doing the Dibels testing. They called a few of my student back and started the testing. After a bit the reading specialist comes to me with one of my students she just tested and excitedly told me that he had a really huge jump in his score. We both congratulated him. After several more kids were tested the RSP teacher who was helping administer the test came in to tell me how amazed she was with the progress my students have made. She seemed truly delighted and complimentary. She said whatever I'm doing I need to keep doing it. That really felt good. The first time my students were tested was the first week of school and I think it was actually the first day that I took over the class. So I felt true ownership of that. We celebrated our success that afternoon by dumping science and going out for a game of dodge ball. Did I say my schedule was tight? I really felt they deserved a reward.

Now yesterday was interesting too. I have one student who is a handful at times. He asked to use the bathroom right at the start of class and then again not much later. I looked at him and thought he didn't look good. I asked him how he felt. He said his stomach bothered him a bit, but he was ok. He looked pale. I told him I wanted to send him to the nurse. He told me he didn't want to go. He didn't want to go home because they were serving nachos for lunch today. I told him I really wanted him to go because I was worried about him. I told him he really looked like he wasn't feeling well. He agreed to go and I sent him with another student because at this point he was really pale. After a bit the nurse sent him back. I just didn't get it. He still didn't look good. So I just kept an eye on him.

When lunchtime came around I had the whole class begging to go early to lunch so they could get nachos. The last time the cafeteria served nachos was quite a while ago. My class got there late and they were out of nachos. It took a while for them to forgive me, but hey, learn to line up properly and stop the talking and we will get there - its not just words kids, it's reality. So they were on extra special behavior to line up and leave. I told the sick student to eat his nachos and go right back to the nurse. Turns out he didn't. I don't know what's going on with him, but something's up.

When we got to the cafeteria I had to take a look at these nachos I've heard so much about. If they're that good I might have to get some myself. I looked at a few kid's trays from other classes. I don't get it. It's just a small pile of some generic chip with the worst looking watered down cheese sauce. This sauce was so watered down it was runny and nearly white in color. Every other tray or so had on small green lump that must have been essence of chili.

So I've learned this week that that you can do more with runny nachos than you can do with sugar-filled Pop Tarts. I've also learned that anyone in an administrative position in education has unrealistic priorties and expectations that border on the sadistic. I hope Santa gives them lumps of coal this year.

5 Comments

OMG! I can't believe it!
by: Hifiman, 12-06-2008

As some of you may know, I hate using exclamation points, but this deserved two in the title alone.

Earlier in the year I posted a blog entry about corporate sponsorship being the answer to budget cuts. See here for the proof.

http://blogs.proteacher.net/discussi...ad.php?t=89546

My wife and I just watched a news snippet showing a school that had corporate sponsorship on the worksheets being handed out to students. The one example showed a company name listed in the footer of the page. Who knew my ramblings could turn into reality?

Now I can't wait for No Thong Left Behind to be passed.

6 Comments

Our cross to bear
by: Hifiman, 12-08-2008

Last night I went to the local grocery store. On my way to the produce section I noticed a man who was about in his mid twenties. He was just standing there with his cart blocking the walkway. This guy’s posture and facial expression exuded defeat. It was sad and disturbing really. I could barely take my eyes off him as I searched for four perfect naval oranges nearby. He didn’t blink, he didn’t move, he barely breathed. His blank stare was drilling holes in the carpeting. I’m not sure how I knew, but somehow I knew that a woman about the same age who was searching for vegetables a bit of a distance from him was his significant other. She didn’t look at him or in his direction or acknowledge him in any way whatsoever. He just continued to take up space in the walkway. I did want to go through, but I didn’t dare disturb him. I wanted to see how this played out. Eventually this woman filled the last of her plastic bags and almost imperceptibly gave him the slightest of nods. Reluctantly he came to life, rolled the cart towards her with his head hung low, and continued to follow her from a distance. Immediately I felt a connection with him. I finally understood what was going on. This wasn’t just some sad sack having difficulty dealing with the world. This was every man on a shopping experience he just didn’t want to be a part of.

I know exactly how he felt. I remember when my wife and I were first together. I remember that blissful part of the relationship where we didn’t want to be away from each other for a single moment. The most mundane of tasks were cherished outings. But time does take its toll. I remember saying to my wife (who was then my fiancé) that I loved shopping. I really did. But it turned out that I had a completely different idea of shopping than she did.

To me shopping meant spending an entire day of going to The Mad Platter (back when it used to be a cool hole in the wall) to look for the latest CD and to browse the used section for some miraculous find. Then it was off to a video game store or two (sometimes three) to see if there were any bargains or must-haves. Eventually I would make my way to Circuit City, The Good Guys, Speaker Craft, Pacific Stereo, and Federated, to name a few. I could spend endless hours in each one of those stores checking out all the audio equipment I could never afford. My fondest memory was back in the day at Pacific Stereo. They had the blacked out demo room with a rack of SAE audio equipment in the middle. All you could see were the hundreds of blinking lights.

My wife however, had a different idea of shopping and trust me it didn’t include any of the stores mentioned above. I had a bit of culture shock when I realized just how long clothes shopping could take. To this day I don’t get it. I understand taking days of exhaustive research to pick out just the right audio gear. That’s a choice that has years of repercussions. But clothes shopping should be an in and out kind of thing. It either fits or it doesn’t. Eventually I stopped going to the malls. I preferred to stay home and do my own thing.

Over the years this transferred to other outings. Trips to the market used to be a shared outing and a reason to be together. Then over time it transitioned to less of an outing and more of a duty. Attending the shopping trip was less about togetherness and more about keeping an eye on the other to make sure we had the right kind of cereal, bread, and snacks coming home. After still more time the shopping trips became more like a game of chicken as we see who is willing to let the cupboards and fridge go barest before one of us flinches and goes to the store. The worst part is when we both flinch and each of us stops at the store on the way home from work. It’s hard to find room for four gallons of milk in the fridge when that happens.

It’s not that I don’t love my wife or that other men don’t love their significant others. I do. We do. It’s just that we can see them anytime. Why go to the mall when I can watch a race on TV or play my newest video game?

Most interesting to me since yesterday’s enlightenment is that maybe I understand my son a bit more. It really gets on me that he is of the age now where he would prefer sitting home instead of taking a trip to the store. When we do force him to come along it’s usually followed by some mumbling as he drags his feet to get ready. In the stores he too has that vacant and defeated stare. I can’t stand it. But I do the same thing too. So today I understand the brotherhood of men just a bit better. We all have our cross (or shopping trip) to bear. I admit that I wish we could handle it as well as the women in our lives do. I never once saw my wife fuss about following me along on any self-inspired shopping trip. I admire her for that, but still, how can you compare shopping for new set of speakers to a blouse?

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I need to get out more
by: Hifiman, 12-02-2008

It has been forever since I’ve been to a mall. Well, an indoor one to be exact. I don’t know why, it’s just never on my list of things to do. Well today my wife and I decided we wanted to take a trip to the local mall. We both needed shoes and we wanted to see what mall life was like these days. Our son even decided to come once we told him we would probably be eating lunch there, which is good information. If we want him to be seen with us we have to buy him food from a restaurant, or in this case a food court. By all accounts this was the most pleasant mall experience I’ve had in quite some time. But wow, malls have changed since the last time I was there.

First off, it was raining a bit today so I decided to park in the parking garage at the mall. I usually avoid it, but there were no crowds today and parking was a breeze. You know, I’ve totally forgotten how much fun a parking garage can be. My current car is basically stock, but my last car had the modified exhaust and blow-off valve on the turbo thing going for it. I used to love hearing it reverberate in a parking garage. I thought those days were behind me with this car, but it never occurred to me to stop and listen to other cars in the garage. There was on one or two that really sounded sweet. It put me in a good mood.

We walked around the mall a bit. It looked essentially the same as the last time I was there, which had to have been at least a couple of years ago. I was out of practice though and made a rookie mistake by slowing momentarily at the AT&T kiosk to see if there was a case for my new cell phone. One of the salesmen there practically cornered me trying to sell me a phone. I told him I wasn’t interested and immediately left, but the guy was literally shouting at me until I got about fifty feet from the kiosk. That snapped me to my senses and I not only steered clear of every other phone kiosk, I also made sure to keep my eyes looking forward.

After a bit more walking I started to notice a surprising fashion trend. It was a fairly cold day and it’s been raining since last night. I expected the women to be bundled up, but actually most of them looked like they were still dressed for summer. Why would I notice this and include this in my story? Trust me, I have to. You’ll see. Anyway, the women all seemed to be wearing the kind of shirts I call bongo shirts. I don’t know what the technical name is for them, but these shirts have a neckline that comes way, way down. Not in a “V,” but more like a big “U” shape, leaving everything on display, and I think I speak for nearly all men when I say that gives us an irresistible urge to play bongos on them, but of course we don’t because we respect women too much, and just as important, we don’t want to spend time in county lockup. Again, this is isn’t a frivolous observation. It’s important to the story. I do wish though that my wife wore bongo shirts. I’m just not sure if she would tolerate me playing a tune or two.

Eventually we wind up at JCPenney’s to look for shoes. My wife gets lucky and finds a pair that she likes. I’m not finding anything, and my son is starting to look like he’s about to drift into a coma from the trauma of hanging out with us in a public place. As my wife is paying for her shoes I decided to try on a style of shoe that I always admire, but never buy because my foot’s too fat. I don’t know what you call them, but they sort of look like sneakers, but they have a very thin sole. They look kind of wide, but the part of the shoe where the front half of your foot goes in are not very high. That’s where my fat foot has trouble. So I’m taking them off as my wife comes by and I mention to her that I’ve always wanted a pair like these, but they never fit. She looks at the shoe and then looks at me and says, “Those shoes look gay.” Huh? Gay? First off I was really surprised to hear my wife say something like that. I mean she is Miss PC and caring of others feelings, etc. So hearing her say this took me by surprise. Even worse than that I now worry if these shoes are more for the alternative lifestyle kind of guy. I don’t think so, but wow, what if I’m out of touch. Well, I put them back and we continued on through the mall, but I still worried about the whole shoe thing. What else am I wearing that I should be concerned about? In an effort to avoid obsessing about the whole thing I had to make a good effort to concentrate on something else and go to my happy place, which brings me to the necessity to talk about bongo shirts.

Thankfully my attention was soon focused on food as we walked by the food court. We all immediately agreed on Panda Express, which is really weird because usually in a food court situation we each choose a separate place to buy our lunch. The weird part was the many things I noticed while eating lunch.

First, the food trays were clear plastic. I’ve never seen clear plastic trays before, but at the time I didn’t think much of it, until we chose a table to sit at. The odd thing about the tables was that they had clear center sections with large posters advertising various stores in the mall. That was something I had never seen before, but I commend the person who came up with that idea. Unfortunately Victoria’s Secret chose not to advertise at my table; instead, it was an advertisement for AT&T. Thankfully there was no shouting this time. The interesting thing about all this is that I now understood why the trays were clear plastic. It was so you could still see the advertisements through the trays while you eat. My wife pointed out that there was contact information listed on the edges of the trays to inquire about advertising in this manner.

We had nice Christmas music to listen to in the background too. It was some woman singing Blue Christmas. I had to laugh because I thought this must be the theme song for every mall in the country. The malls will have a very blue Christmas without the consumers coming out in droves to spend lots of money this year.

Eventually I noticed an interesting machine not far from where we sat. It was a machine to charge your cell phone. It costs two dollars for each phone. Imagine that. Now my son’s anxiety level in any mall can be greatly reduced if his cell phone (aka his reason for living) dies. He can recharge it and be connected to his friends standing next to him once again. But as I looked at the machine I noticed it not only wasn’t bolted to the wall, it was actually placed about eight inches from it, exposing the extension cord to power it. I thought if I had my own charger with me I could save two bucks by unplugging the machine and charging my phone from the extension cord.

Now the funny part was with our fortune cookies. Mine said, “You have a unique personality.” Unique personality! Oh c’mon. That’s something a mom says to her son when he’s having trouble finding or keeping a girl. There’s no guy on the planet who wants to hear that. If my fortune was going to make a comment about me it should have said, “You’re cute.” Now that’s what guys want to hear. It doesn’t matter what the situation is it can be instantly diffused if a woman says to a guy, “You’re cute.” Most guys won’t even remember their names after hearing that because in a man’s brain this is instantly translated to, “Your bed or mine, or would you rather go behind that bush over there?” You know, I doubt there’s ever been a war that couldn’t have instantly ended if there was a squad of women who showed up telling every guy there they were cute.

My wife’s fortune said something about her simple taste being noticed by others. She smiled because she does have simple taste and liked the fortune. I was still in bongo mode and thought to myself, “Ok, let's go buy you a simple bongo shirt.”

I know my son had a fortune, but I don’t think he shared it with us. He had already eaten and had once again scoured the mall to make sure no one he knew would see him with us.

The rest of the trip was uneventful. We looked around a bit more and then went home. I never did find shoes there. Once we were home I went back out to go to Sears in search of shoes once again. I had my choice narrowed down to two shoes, but then fear gripped me. Was either of these two shoes “gay” shoes? I wanted to ask the guy working the counter, but I thought that would be a rude opener. Besides, what if he was gay? I couldn’t handle being rejected by guys too.

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Would you like fries to go with that order?
by: Hifiman, 11-18-2008

Yesterday morning I was driving around and feeling a bit hungry. There was a Baker’s nearby so I pulled in the drive thru to get a bean and cheese burrito. Before I ordered I changed my mind to a bean and rice burrito because they are a bit bigger and I was really starting to feel hungry. I gave my order and was then promptly asked if I wanted to add lettuce, tomato, and sour cream to it. I pretended like it wasn’t the thought of sour cream that tempted me and instead, I felt the need for a little bit of vegetables. So I changed my order to that.

Baker’s always does this. You place your order and immediately they hit you with the upsell. I do find entertainment though in discovering which combinations they come up with since it’s always a different suggestion. I’ve got to admit though their suggestions are pretty good.

Just about every other fast food place does the same. Jack in the Box always tries to get me to buy a slice of cheese cake before I go. Burger King wants to know if I’d like a shake to go with my meal. Carl’s Jr. really cracks me up though. Whenever I order a combo there I’m always asked to choose a medium or large supersize. They always present it like I have no other option but to choose one of these. I wish I could say I resist.

Upselling isn’t limited to fast food places. Stores insist I buy an extended warranty for just about every purchase. They assure me that paying $20 for a warranty on a $60 item makes perfect fiscal sense. I almost never buy it. By the time the item needs replacing there will be something far better on the market and it will only cost $19.99. So the point is that everyone is pushing the upsell to make an extra buck off the consumer. There’s just one place I’ve yet to see the upsell take hold – public education.

I don’t understand why we’ve held out from this trend. It makes perfect sense really. I know that public education is supposed to be free (well, sort of), but shouldn’t that just include a basic education? I’ve got a few ideas. Here’s what I propose.

First, we know that lots of parents get really hung up on the test scores of the schools in their district. Some of them tirelessly lobby to obtain an interdistrict transfer just so little Bobby can excel in a proper school. I think that’s fine and here’s where the upsell begins. The parent comes into the district office to register their child for school. Someone from the registration office meets with them, but before signing the child up for the neighborhood school the person says something like, “I see you live just up the street. Your child will be attending Not So Great Elementary. It’s a fine school really. Lots of good teachers work there, but I do need to tell you that Not So Great Elementary is one of the lower performing schools on last year’s state test. In fact, Not So Great Elementary is in year one of program improvement. Now if you’d like Bobby to attend I’m sure he will do fine – with some support from home, but let me tell you about Pretty Darn Good Elementary that’s just two miles further up the street. Pretty Darn Good Elementary has some pretty darn good test scores. They’ve got some pretty darn good teachers there too.” The parent then says, “Yes, Pretty Darn Good Elementary sounds pretty darn good. We want Bobby to go there.” The district person says, “That’s great, let’s sign you up, but before we do I think you should consider Really, Really Great Elementary. The test scores and the teachers are really, really great. It’s a bit more expensive, but it’s worth it for your son.” “Wait, you mean we have to pay to attend Pretty Darn Good or Really, Really Great? I thought school was free.” The district person then says, “Well Not So Great Elementary is free, but discriminating parents who care about their children usually opt for at least Pretty Darn Good Elementary. You know, if money is an issue, we have an easy installment plan, or if you pay nine months up front, you get the tenth month free. I know it might be pricey, but trust me, your child will thank you when he’s in college and doing well.” “Ok, we’ll go with Pretty Darn Good and take the monthly payments.”

Now this is just the first opportunity for the upsell. There really is so much more schools could offer for just a small fee. Even the best of schools with the best of teachers still have one or two teachers that many parents feel are a must have for their children. Fine, that’s an upsell too. Pick one and pay a fee. If the class is getting full we can offer a silent auction.

Other options include a moderate fee for a classroom in one of the main buildings vs. free accommodations in a distant portable. Does a child need to be seated up front? Great, we have preferred seating for that child for a nominal fee. For a bit extra we can even have the custodian come in a size the desk to fit the child perfectly.

Of course we can’t forget the needs of those parents who insist their child needs to be challenged in school. Fantastic! Teachers can offer several all inclusive packages starting from moderately challenging all the way up to the Nobel Prize package – for a fee of course. Just one caveat for the parents; these packages are nonrefundable if they later learn that Bobby really does pick his nose all day long because he’s hoping to find a prize, and not because he’s bored in class.

Finally, my favorite, though I’ll admit it’s not really an upsell, but still, it doesn’t diminish its importance. Teachers can charge a $25 dollar cancellation fee for any parent who doesn’t show up for conferences without 24 hours advanced notice. And if the parent insisted on a specific day and time outside the offered availability of the teacher there would be