More Madness

This week, our principal had Leadership with the team leaders in the building. In this meeting, she said that everyone coming into the building had to swipe their magnetic badges across the entrance door from now on to account for who was there and who was not and when people were getting to school. It all stems from a few teachers - actually a certain teacher - who, in the past, made it her business to not arrive at school until 9AM. She had an aide and that aide covered for her. The principal was made aware of this situation by other teachers and even went down to the room to see for herself.

Our principal does not like confrontation. She was a guidance counselor in a previous life. Several people have told her that perhaps she should just approach the people who aren't following the rules and her response is: "I don't roll that way." Really? Really. Because if you are in a role of leadership and authority, you'd better be ready to have some critical conversations with the people you are in authority over - because it's not my job to roll that way, either. She would have us police each other. But I don't make the big bucks in Admin - I teach, remember? She's going to have the School Climate Committee come up with a Dress Code because some people don't know how to dress and she's uncomfortable approaching those people - again, that's not how she rolls - but the county already has a dress code in place. I'm not reinventing the wheel, people. Because that's not how I roll.


The kicker, however, came when she announced that on our evaluations, we could be marked as Needs Improvement on Professionalism if we missed 5 days this year and not be eligible for the Exemplary status. This, right now, makes absolutely no sense. The county provides us with 3 personal days and 12 sick days per year. If I choose to take those days, have doctor's notes or whatever, it really shouldn't be held against me and my evaluation. I have children who get sick - on a regular basis - and I'm taking care of them. Those sick children don't always go to the doctor for me to get a note, but it looks like I'll be taking them. And with all those flu warnings, I can guarantee that I won't be coming if I feel feverish. Like I am right now.

Freaky Friday - Five Days Before Spring Break

So much to say and yet...
I could post an entire blog about one boy who has been nothing but a behavior problem since he got to our school when he was a 2nd grader; his parents got an ADHD diagnosis Monday along with a prescription for something and they have decided to let him wreak his special brand of havoc on us for the rest of the year while they try to fix him through behavior modification. Right. My only consolation is the fact that this little crapper is going to middle school at his mother's school (right! Mama is a special ed teacher and she didn't think there was anything wrong with the little prince. They. Never. Do.) and when her administration has to deal with him, they'll be throwing him out on his ear.

I could post an entire blog about our Art Teacher and her appointment as County Art Educator of the Year - how she lobbied for, did all the paperwork and managed to get this award all by herself and has done nothing but prance around like it means something. If this had been voted on by her peers, I might be onboard, but she has had the audacity to try to get the school secretaries to get the principal to make announcements about her and her "personal best" and she wants us to put her "achievement" out on the announcement board in front of our school. Stop the madness, I say.

I could post an entire blog about the garlic cheese grits I got ahold of this morning at our monthly Fat Friday breakfast. Oh my word, they were everything grits are supposed to be. Creamy. Cheesy. Delicious. Hallelujah. They were the only thing that saved this wretched monsoon-y Friday. I am in awe.

I could post an entire blog about the fact that Prep's Junior Prom is next Saturday (did anyone check a calendar - hello? The day before Palm Sunday? The after party is over at 3AM. Are you kidding me?) and she doesn't have a dress yet. She found one that cost more than my wedding dress but she can't find it in her size. Of course, if I could wear a 0, I'd just buy clothes to be obnoxious. But then, she is being difficult, as promised.

I could post an entire blog about a fabulous book I started last night and I will finish tonight called Sarah's Key. What a read. As a history major, I am appalled by my lack of knowledge about the French roundup of the Jews. This book is amazing. I think it is the author's first novel. I hope her future work is just as good.

Oh, yeah. One more thing. They had to come yesterday to remove a dead possum from underneath my trailer - it was stinking up pretty good, people- but the one idiot said that the smell was coming from my coffee cup. Pardon? I don't think so. You can't smell my freaking coffee cup from OUTSIDE, moron. What a show that was.

Spring break? Maybe we just need to call it a year.

Are You Smarter Than a Fifth Grader?

You might not recognize her, but this is Georgia's fearless leader in education. The State Superintendent. And tonight, heaven help us, she is going to be on Jeff Foxworthy's show "Are You Smarter Than a Fifth Grader?"

She has already said on one of the promos, "I probably know more than most people." Apparently, she didn't know enough to stay off of television in the first place or to get a makeover when she plowed ahead with plans to go on television. She didn't know enough to tell the teachers of the state that the Social Studies and Math super big state tests were going to hell in a hand basket when she knew months ahead of time.

I am amazed. If she flames out, everyone is going to say, of course, she's from Georgia. And if she succeeds, who is going to be surprised? She is the freaking Superintendent of Education. She should be smarter than a fifth grader.

Winken, Blinken or Nod(ding off)?

I took a long lunch today; one that's going to last until the first day of school. And when I got home, I took a long nap. I am exhausted - still - and I have been asleep on every surface in my house. LawyerBoy's chair, couch, bed. I'm surprised I haven't fallen face first in the washer, sink or on top of the kitchen table.

Still got dinner and choir to get through, but who knows if I will be awake long enough to make it or get there.

Why does the end of school knock my socks off like it does?

In other school randomness, creepy principal dad was making our After School Program workers make a list of the times when he and his ex-wife picked their daughters up after school. From Day 1. It appears he is about to make a move for custody; I'd be happy to testify that he is an A number one ASSHAT. (Thanks, Jen Lancaster, for my new vocabulary word!!) You should have seen him in action on our field trip. Asshat.

I also got a phone call today from the middle school math supervisor's secretary - she wanted to know how comfortable I'd be teaching ALGEBRA to 8th graders who had failed the Super Big State Test. (All together, now: AHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!) As much as I'd like the extra money, I don't want to fail these kids who so desperately need to pass. And besides, it would apparently mess up my badly needed naps.

Stick a Fork in It

Now that it is all said and done, today was a piece of cake. With the exception of one of our special ed kids locking himself in the clinic bathroom, today went off without a hitch. We never know how the kids are going to react to this last day - some are fine and others don't handle it so well.

My sister, PrincipalGirl, administrates in a warzone. She said that many of her students today were completely crazy. Teachers were calling for reinforcements all over the building. They didn't want today to end - so many of them go home to complete chaos that they can't comprehend being away from the only structure and meals they have. PrincipalGirl was talking to a first grader - a first grader, mind you - who told her that his mother told him that she was Santa Claus and that she wasn't buying any presents this year. PrincipalGirl said that this family was one of the ones that had been helped with the Angel Tree and all those other things that make sure that families without don't have to do without Christmas. WTH is my only reaction. Who treats a six year old like this? At Christmas?

No wonder we can't teach them how to read. Or add. Or trust. No wonder they can't believe in anything, including themselves.

So, while I'm scrambling to fill PrepGirl's and BrownBear's stocking, I'll just be grateful that I didn't have to deal with this stupid parent today. Because I'd be in jail right now.

More Griping and Moaning, Via E-Mail

I couldn't be a bigger fan of the electronic mail; it lets us be in touch in an instant. However, there comes a time when parents should have those privileges revoked. Today, I encountered such an instance.

I have a student who is floundering. She barely passed the big state test in reading last year. Her parents are divorced. Dad is an assistant principal in the district and he has access to e-mail. He fired one off this morning, basically making me feel like I am some kind of incompotent nitwit without one iota of common or professional sense.

He let me know, in no uncertain terms, that his daughter could read on a much higher level than I had said. Her problem, in his esteemed estimation, was one of motivation. He told me that my assessment tools were unscientific and fraudulent and he had written his Master's thesis to prove it. Now, I am not the biggest fan of AR in the entire world, but I am not stupid enough to tell a parent, any parent, that his child was only assessed using one tool. I have made certain that I backed up the STAR test with other assessments - and scientific or not, my STAR test results are often backed up by other tests.

The fifth grade counts AR as one test grade for the entire nine weeks. He is bent out of shape over that. Funny, he didn't have anything to say about it a month ago during Back to School Night. A month ago, he didn't have a problem with it. Now that we're half way through the nine weeks, his precious has only gotten 0.9 AR points. Fifth graders are supposed to have 20 for an A. If his precious already had 17 points, his panties wouldn't be in a knot.

He insisted that we not grade for AR. The county doesn't support it. The data is unscientific. Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. State standards require fifth graders to read 1,000,000 words this year. AR tracks those words. We assign grades to those words. It is called accountability.

This is his problem. He is the father of two children, both of them identified for our intervention program. This is troubling for him, as it makes him look bad. He doesn't care one whit about anything other than how this will make him look. Oh, yeah. And getting back at his ex-wife. That is playing in here somehow. He let me know that he didn't know what kind of standards his ex-wife held his children to, but when they were with him, he expected quite a bit from them.

Whatever.

I e-mailed him my best sweet Southern girl. And I let him have it. I wasn't in Nancy Grace's sorority for nothing.