Tales Out of School (Thanks, Pat Welsh!)

• Divided up the darlings for "Springtime Summer School." I can tell you right now - this isn't going to work. The 16 kids who were picked think they are in prison - and they are. Two hours of math and two hours of reading remediation because the county couldn't figure out finances for summer school. And I was involved in picking the kids we thought might not pass the Super Big State Test. Somebody's going to get sued.
• Got an email from the head douche telling us which order he's going to fire us in because the county couldn't figure out finances and he's $137 million in the red next year. Right now, they are looking to get rid of about 580 teachers in the district. The half time people and limited contract people found out in a mass email that their services weren't going to be needed next year. Oh, yeah - the Board changed the RIF policy LAST WEEK. To make it easier to get rid of us.
• My second student teacher will be leaving me after tomorrow. Damn. I hate when they leave.
• Can summer be far away? Is that Cancun calling me? You bet.

The Ship Sank

Elizabeth, my anonymous commenter, wanted to know why I continue in this chosen field if I'm so negative and I've been pondering that while we've been having conference week. So, as my teammates and I have been conferencing with the most difficult of the 5th graders and letting them and their parents know that they are heading toward doom, destruction and failure, I have been wondering why I keep doing this. (Best conference - some mama was upset because her son, who just came to us - who has failed third and fourth and fifth grade -this would be his second attempt at fifth - -wasn't allowed to leave the room at will to pee. Really, Mitchell? Really? I would have thought that your first cause of concern would have been about the fact that your 13 year old can't read or add. And that he's still in 5th grade.)

I have also been searching for another path - something to do that would be as fulfilling as this job once was before the President and the Governor and all types of legislators decided that they could tell me what and how - as if their professional judgment was somehow better than my 20 years in all different types of classrooms.

I've also been keeping my eye on a most troubled young man - one of the most troubled students I can say I have ever taught. Every day, someone in our school finds out something different about him and his three brothers in our school. They arrived at our school in early December because they had been thrown out of their apartment complex because the first grader and third or fourth grader had been vandalizing the place and gang fighting. (WTF? the first grader?) None of these boys is anywhere near grade level and heaven help my fifth grader, he appears to be helping to raise his younger brothers while his three older brothers are doing who knows what and his mama - a "professional singer" sleeps all day long. My student missed three days of school this week - couldn't get anyone to return a phone call for me - but word on the street was that he was in the hospital. When he returned on Thursday, he told me that he had an infection in his tooth and his jaw was swollen almost shut. Had to have antibiotics - and will need to have a root canal. Uh - holy mandated reporter call. Find the social worker - I can't imagine how much this hurt and how long it had bothered him before this infection blew up.

So, why do I do this? It goes like this: before BrownBear entered kindergarten, it came down to what was I going to do while both of them were in school. I was a school teacher before the girls were born. I had taught junior college part time and preschool part time after they were born, but now, they were both going to be gone for huge chunks of time. I could help my family by going back full time (and staying out of the Target), especially since LawyerBoy is self-employed and one thing teachers usually get is insurance. We'll see how that goes from now on.

I had some extremely conservative friends who were homeschoolers and they were appalled by my decision - first of all to even send my children to school (really? you should see how well adjusted their kids are now) and second that I would even consider going back to work myself. But what they didn't understand was how lucky our children have it - Prep and BrownBear have never wanted for our attention or for food or medical attention or material things. But my friends couldn't believe that there were children who went without - I guess - and that was one of my other reasons. Who would take care of the kids who didn't have anyone? I could make a dent - and that's the rub. Here we are, trying to make a difference and our difference doesn't matter to those people in charge.

I'm not trying to get rich trying to teach. I'm trying to keep my house heated, my children fed and clothed and keep my insurance.

What I need people in office to realize is that I am as much of a professional as they are. I care for the future of this country. I don't need you to tell me how to do my job or for you to balance your budget on my back.

And yesterday, the Superintendent - the one who took a $25,000 raise this past year, told us, after holding back our step increases and having us take a 2% decrease in our salaries - that we were going to be furloughed three days.

So, thanks for the vote of confidence. Thanks for that thumbs up. Thanks. While you might not be elected to office, your entire school board, especially the members whose heads are so far up your ass, they can't talk until you open your mouth, are up for re-election. We're gearing up to throw you out. And we're just starting with the school board. The legislature and the governor are next.

Sick Bay

Cardinal rule in Teachergirl's room: if you are sick, HIT THE ROAD. Do not pass go, do not collect $200. The restroom is ONE door down from my classroom. Go for it. We will sort out any misunderstandings later.

I don't do sick - not even my OWN children's sick - so do not expect me to be all mommy/nurse there for you. It makes me gag just to think about it.

Because of the swine flu, I have sent students to the nurse without so much as a second glance. If you think you feel bad, you have my blessing. Go forth and be healed.

Today, one of my students asked to go to the nurse. I didn't hesitate - go, my dear. I may be getting played, but I'm not one to take a chance. The nurse sent her back and I just told her to have a seat and I continued on with math. Not ten minutes later, the sweet girl is throwing up into her hands and running TOWARD my desk. Holy vomitorium, Batman, run out of the classroom, not farther into it!!!!!! Thank goodness, a trash can was right in front of my desk, because if she had barfed ON my desk, full of lesson plans, report cards and a ton of my own junk, I would have fainted. And trust me, I nearly did when I saw what was going on.

The worst of it was the custodian tried to give me my trash can back.

I think I can do without this one.

Cheertastrophe (Title credits go to Amalah)

Oh hell. Just got off the phone with the trainers from Prep's school and the word is this: there was a cheer accident. The good news is that Prep doesn't have a concussion. The bad news is that there was some facial/nose trauma and we need to keep an eye and ice on it. And we'll keep looking at it and reassess it in a few days. They have the best training facility in the city. Remember, last year, they sewed up a cheerleader on the track. At least they didn't have to set Prep's nose out there.

Oh hell. I think they're worried that her nose might be broken. Not the week of the biggest game they play -

More at eleven.

Lysol, Anyone?

They think BrownBear has mono - and that means fun times around here. We went to the pediatrician (again! - only this time, the good one, the one who has known the girls since they were born and not this Dr. Newgirl who ordered blood work and didn't order the complete tests for BB, so we got to go get more blood drawn!! At the children's hospital!! After the strep test!

Fun times, I tell you. I have now missed four days since the beginning, not counting the half day I was out for teacher rounds. But even being out, I was able to screw up. I was checking my e-mail and opened one from a parent who wrote that she had received her daughter's graded work out of the order we had originally intended to send it home. We had said that we were going to send it home with the lowest grade on top and her daughter's work hadn't come home that way. The 87 was in the middle, not on top. I forwarded this to my best friend in the building who promptly replied something smart-assed to me and then sent it to the parent. Holy crap. The mom wrote back to her wondering what the hell was going on. Ever clever, my friend said that the county email was acting up - our first names are exactly the same and sometimes, she gets my email.

As my great uncle used to tell me, I could screw up the Lord. I didn't understand him when I was little, but I got a handle on it today.

Classtime Tomorrow

I can't wait until tomorrow. You all know - the President is going to speak during lunchtime on the east coast. (Who picked that time, I'd love to know.) Our district, in its goofy damned way of trying to be politically correct, sent home a letter from the superintendent with a note on the back for parents who want to opt their students out of the speech. (Have I told you it's going to be shown live at 12PM? And videostreamed the rest of the day? And I have planning from 11:45 - 12:30?) And no one at my school has a concrete plan for showing the speech? And the principal- you remember her - the one who won't make any decisions - wants to know what our plans are for showing the speech??

We sent the letter home on FRIDAY and, as you are well aware, we AREN'T in SCHOOL TODAY. So, if little Johnny's mommy doesn't want him to see the speech tomorrow and he doesn't bring his note, little Johnny is going to be viewing that bad boy. No lead time, no prep time, no nothing.

And have I told you that I think one of my kids has parents who are skinheads? Can my job get any better?