Forty Days

Forty days in and I haven't repeated an outfit.  I am now allowing repeats - I could do a couple more weeks but it would involve wearing jeans three days a week and at least one evening gown that is a bit restrictive. For day 40, I wore:

• purple and gold dirndl
• red sweater
• purple tights
• red cowboy boots
• purple jacket

The art teacher told me that she's so glad I wear colors.

In other news, I mistakenly announced that one of our caterpillars had died, but it in fact was molting.  Hopefully I did not interrupt the molt when I was changing out old leaves - it looked alright when I left.  I was able to correct my mistake before the day was out, luckily.  It had gotten itself stuck to the roof of the terrarium, which is why I thought it was a goner.  Here's hoping it's alright tomorrow.

We have two caterpillars, both collected from a nearby park on a field trip.  They're different kinds, so it's cool to see how the caterpillars are different, etc.

Sartorial Kindergarten.

I am not really a fan of those "one month of outfits, ten pieces of clothing" challenges.  Why restrict one's abundance of garments?  The utilitarian creativity of such frugal attempts may be exciting, but I'd rather mix it up a bit more.

Hence I am challenging myself to no repeats in any four week period: easy from the perspective of total clothing owned, difficult because I tend to get attached to a piece for no good reason and want to wear it repeatedly until it bores me (at which point I shove it in the back of the closet and - hey presto! - within a couple of months it's exciting again).

So far: this is day thirteen, and I'm still on track.

The Low Hum of Heads Exploding

For my own sanity, every time I get a new iteration of my class list, I make new name badges, name writing sheets and name project pages for that student.  I do this because it's the kind of thing that keeps me up at night, even though it is not difficult or time-consuming to wait and write a name.

This is why I know I have had as many as 25 students on my roster.  In total, I've had thirty different children enrolled in my class at various points.  When I left school today, I had a final (ha!) roster of 19 students.  Two are siblings of students I had in the past, three came by to say hello and three are new to the country within the last four months.  Pretty cool.

Tomorrow when I go in, I will pull all the sheets and projects for students who have disappeared from the roll and put them in a folder just in case.  I also will make sure I have a few blank everythings for students who come in the first few days.

And I will resign myself to some of my students leaving when they get a placement offer at a different school.  This bums me out even though I understand it; our school is not convenient for everyone.  And some people want programs (immersion, etc.) that we don't offer.  And some people have concerns about our school that strike me as unstudied, unjustified and questionable in motivation.

Whatever the case, it always feels like a personal rejection, you know?

Tomorrow, I've also got copies to make, a shelf to organize and will be expecting a delivery of snacks and water that I've ordered for the first week for my class.  The room's ready to go and my Resident graciously took home some laminated stuff to cut.  I'm also planning to meet with one of the first grade teachers and give her a quick overview of her students who were in my class last year.  And then it's just Monday.

Perhaps ambitiously, we are cooking a healthy snack on the first day of school.  Well, we are mixing yogurt, (healthy) granola, frozen blueberries and ten mini chocolate chips in a cup and calling it cooking.  Should be fun, though.  Since I am planning to be dressed extremely well, if not in a fashion generally seen in Kindergarten, I have already made sure a large apron is ready and waiting for me.  Now I must only remember to put it on.  And if the worst thing that happens this year is that I get some yogurt on the McQueen, then I'm a very lucky person.

Death Match!

IN THIS CORNER, me.  On a scanty three hours of sleep after an attack of ADHD brain, wearing a disappointingly plain outfit and equipped with an ipod.

IN ALL OTHER CORNERS, my classroom.  Left in the disaster state I thought appropriate Saturday.

I'm staying until it's done and hoping to stroll out of school by 8pm.

I ended my Adderall holiday today by taking half of my old morning dose.  That should partially hone dulled brain.  Since ADHD was responsible for dulling it in the first place, I think it's a fair trade.

I have relatively good coping strategies for getting by with a lack of executive functioning.  I also am of the school of thought that believes there are positives to ADHD: it can make you quick on your feet, willing to try new things and intensely creative.  I think I'm more accepting of learning needs in the classroom, too, because I know there are environments in which I cannot be successful.  That said, I really love Hyperbole and a Half and somewhat identify with this.

In other news, here is the dress that the USPS finally saw fit to deliver.  Providing that weather reports hold, I'll be pairing it a turtleneck shell as a first week of school ensemble.  I also have a kicky Byron Lars suit and a Fendi sundress for first week looks.  Today, however, it's going to be a scruffy day.  I may even wear pants.

In further other news, I have a Resident again this year - hooray!  I also have a document outlining my responsibilities and the program's early goals to read.  I am looking forward to perusing it since it should help me be a better mentor for my Resident.

ETA, 7:05 PM: Barring about an hour's worth of scrap-collecting, I'm done.  The new set up rocks my socks, too.

Search Keywords, Teacher Fashions

Yes, it is okay for teachers to have feather extensions.  A member of our afterschool program does hair bling and feathers, so teachers at my school can get fancy on their lunch breaks and therefore we have a significant minority boasting them.  That said, I've met teachers from other schools at all levels with hair feathers.

The environmental/appropriation issues remain, of course.

I may be the wrong person to ask though, seeing as I both have visible tattoos and tend to go in for the more extreme hair dye options - last year, red and blue; this year I'm going with white blonde to start.  I've also been at my site for years and live four blocks away, so families have had plenty of time to get used to my sartorial decisions.

I went shopping Saturday and had this conversation.

Elementary Rat: I suppose I do not need a slightly too big pleather and lace dress.
Shopping Companion: It is certainly not a practical item.
ER: None of my clothing is practical.
SC: Well, that's true.

Actually, it was kind of a shocker Saturday in that Jeremy's was having a sale and I bought nothing.  This summer I've only bought one coat, a shrug, six dresses and a skirt.  Oh, and a pair of shoes.  I've also been given a bolero and another skirt.  I've unloaded maybe three times that, though.

For the record: I spend my discretionary income entirely on my classroom and my wardrobe.  I do not drive an automobile, eat out regularly, watch/payfor television/cable, or go on fancy vacations (the New York trip was totally closet and classroom related: I visited some East Coast teacher cronies and went to the Savage Beauty exhibit.  In conclusion, I refuse to feel bad about how I spend my money.

The Most Fashionable Kindergartners in All the Land.

Said Kindergartners are at my school and will be using Savage Beauty pencils come August.

The less said about what fine gifts I purchased for myself (Hey!  I work hard!  Two stipends to be paid on my June check!  I! Am! Good! At! Self-Justification!), the better.  Suffice to say that I made four fine additions to my closet...and that's before the DecadesTwo popup Saturday.

The only potential problem is that I walked everywhere in the sweltering humidity and forgot to eat, and what with the sweating and the fasting I looked awesomely gaunt in everything.  This may not continue after a foggy San Francisco summer demanding the best California produce and many visits to tea parlors.

Side Benefits

My Resident is soloing this week and next.  So far, I have entirely prepped out an end of the year project, kept all our plants alive during the heat wave, made a calendar set for next year, and spent five minutes and rather more dollars at an online vintage flash sale.  (Let's just say that my vacation souvenir budget has been, erm, deducted in the amount of one fine dress.)  I'm always there, and I watch what's going on or take notes/get involved when needed, but for the most part she's in charge.

Next week I will spend the time doing end of year assessment, so today is the end of the semi-holiday.  And since it's the second week, I'll be able to focus entirely on the child I'm assessing (as opposed to having one ear open for drama - this is the longest period I've ever had a student teacher teaching solo in my room and it's a test in releasing control, that's for sure).

Optics Ho!

In general, I think that SFUSD doesn't get optics.  Not the kind involving the eyes, but the kind covering the public reaction to issues - "how it looks in the press", if you will.  For instance, catering Board meetings might be inexpensive in comparison to the overall budget.  It might even be good policy.  It looks really bad when you have laid off teachers, increased class sizes and demanded contract concessions.

Similarly, one could argue that the salaries paid to Central Office employees keep them in the public sector and are in line with other local school districts.  But when you put them on a list and compare that list to school site professionals' salaries, those arguments look weak.

Still, one area where the District gets it right is their annual meeting to send potential no-contract letters to their highest-paid employees.  They always manage to do this before laying off teachers and will make sure that all District officials solemnly announce the number of Assistant Superintendents, Executive Directors and so on who may not be employed next year when being forced to discuss teacher layoffs.

Pressed on the issue, the District will admit that they have no intention of actually letting these people go (or at least they never have before).  So the purpose is at least partially cosmetic.

I am trying to decide if it is worth the effort to organize a big site visit to next week's Board meeting, since our school will undoubtedly be at or near the top of several lists (Most Teacher Layoffs at a Site by Number!  And Also By Percentage of Classroom Staff!  And Most Heavily Impacted High-Needs Site!).  Doing so means organizing around a depressing and futile topic - it's not like the Board will decline to send the letters, even though the 15 March deadline is not the iron-bound Unbreakable Vow they often claim it is - and too many of the District officials have a bad habit of texting or talking while public comment is being made.  That kind of rudeness makes for grumpy.

Additionally, it would take away valuable time from watching this over and over and over.  Presently my only personal concern around layoffs boils down to how badly my New York pin money would be decimated if I am not under contract come early June.  No job means I probably can't buy any really good souvenirs (by which I mean "dresses purchased at certain retail outlets", not "exhibit catalogs or other such fripperies sold at the Met").

Art for Art's Sake

Thursday afternoon I got delivery of most of a Donors Choose grant that was entirely extremely fancy crafts stuff:

• flower rhinestones
• wikki stix in large enough quantity for making things to take home
• stamper markers
• fabric shapes
• shiny things
• class pack of scented stix markers (I haaate scented markers, but oh do children love them.)

Anyway, on Friday I put out many of these things and let the kids go to town.  It was a bit more than a half hour of creative exploration with no goal other than making stuff.  I mean, this is Kindergarten, so there was motor development, cooperation and language stuff embedded simply through supply manipulation, having to work with a couple of kids in one's group and describing what you were doing.  But there wasn't any strict content integration, thematic purpose, BIG GOAL or any of that kind of stuff.

It was really quite marvelous.  In fact it was the kind of period where the kids get into little competitions about who can come up with the best description for how great a teacher I am.  I'm not going to lie: a little self-validation by happy five year olds is a great thing.  Beyond that, everyone deserves the opportunity to go to town with a sheet of acrylic gemstone stickers, a sentence strip and some paint.  We all need the opportunity to be creative just for fun.  Everyone should have the chance to use materials that are beautiful (I assure you: acrylic gemstone stickers are beautiful to five year olds).

In other news, I wore a new coat on Friday and no child complimented it.  This was disappointing.  Also this week, a first grader I had last year asked me why all of my clothes are always too big.  Apparently he does not understand why one buys a 100% cashmere coat at a thrift store even if it is a couple of sizes too large (and a swing style at that).  In what may have been some kind of self-subliminal response, the next day I wore a skirt suit with a shorter skirt than I typically wear and was very, very popular with the Princess Society all day long.

Fabulous Teacher Taste

This summer when thrifting, I found and tried on a vintage Lacroix skirt.  It was too big, even to wear as a dress, so I didn't buy it.  I also thought more seriously about buying one of those very 80s Moschino Cheap and Chic jackets but decided I don't really need shoulders that boxy.

Anyway, I saw one of these on 1st dibs with a 200% markup and the other at a fancy vintage store, tagged four times as much as it cost when I tried it on.  San Francisco isn't a big city: these are definitely the same pieces.

The point is: my scrounging is fantastic.  I am tempted to claim I should buy stuff to resell it like this, but who am I kidding?  I'd end up wearing it, spilling paint on it, or giving it to someone who would fit into it better than I do.

In other scrounging news, I picked up muslin for fish-printing and a mess of remnant Dia dos Muertos themed fabric bits for next year, job assuming.

Christmas List!

Dear Red-Suited Imaginary Arctic Gift Givers,

I may not have been good this year, but definitely I did good things.  Despite epic budget cuts, regular interludes without heat and the daily denigration of my profession, I have successfully taught my students to read, figure, and treat others with a modicum of respect.

Given American capitalism's "pay for breathing" plans for CEOs, I suppose I could demand presents without any work.  However, the same Rand-reading illiterates* receiving bonuses for their ability to take in oxygen seem to think teachers have something to prove.**  Hence the above.  Additionally:

• I did NOT go to New York so that I could be used to denigrate my own profession.
• I voted in all elections.
• I spoke at Board meetings, gave interviews to the press, and had my picture in national publications. In all venues, I observed that equity is not equality.
• I spoke against child-blaming, parent-blaming and teacher-blaming.
• I took responsibility for my students' learning and demanded that the powers that be take responsibility for their inequitable actions.***

I'm worthy.  I demand presents:

1. Math and reading games to fill the backpacks for my students to take home this summer.
2. Bird print funnel neck dress, size 38 or 40 IT.
3. SFUSD cuts administrative paychecks and positions BEFORE cutting teacher jobs.
4. UESF does not capitulate on "No Layoffs".
5. We get the PAC-TIN grant.
6. Magical black tights that do not get ladders.
7. Aga Six-Four stove and range.
8. 20:1 class size reduction K-12 throughout the state.  12:1 reduction at "high needs" schools (say, those with FRLP over 75% and/or those serving a major public housing development).
9. Lots of nifty light fiction.
10. My very own cross trainer and/or elliptical machine.

As you can see, my desires are both many and extravagant.  I figure such an attitude has served Lloyd Blankfein well, so it can't hurt me any.

In anticipation,

E. Rat

*Yes, I meant for that to happen.  You don't really need strong reading comprehension skills to suffer through Ayn Rand.  Her books are all a disturbing amalgamation of bad, mildly sadomasochistic romance novels and repetitive semi-philosophical pablum.
**And the ones who didn't slap some sense into those boys DO.
***Not that they did, of course.  How much you want to bet that Garcia declines to take a solidarity pay cut (beyond furlough days) again this year?

Budget Apocalypse 2011: The Second Coming of Jerry

Last week, the Governor-Elect had one of his charming little summits in Los Angeles.  This one was on education.  The key takeaways were that we need to stop bothering Jerry so much.  I mean, you'd think he'd run for Governor or something on a platform we were expecting him to keep.

...hey, Jerry?  YOU DID.  So can it.

Anyway, he agreed that education had taken the brunt of the cuts, but that was just too bad and to expect more and more miserable cutting in his next budget.  Also, he wants a passed budget in 60 days upon his entry.  Furthermore, Californians aren't willing to pay for the services they want, so that's just tough for school people.  And everyone else, too: the budget he's apparently planning to propose is going to be a big nightmare.  Sez Jerry.

Dan Walters of the Sac Bee thinks this is all part of Jerry's big plan:

1. Propose a truly miserable budget that cuts all services to the bone, particularly popular ones like education.  (Note to Dan: Dude, in the case of education, we'll be on to the marrow now.)
2. Propose special election for a tax hike.  Campaign for tax hike is "This budget or your money".
3. Get state Congress to pass Doom Budget.
4. Taxes win in special election.
5. Have a new, better budget ready to go.

This seems plausible, if stupid.  Among other things, I have lived through several special elections in California.  The Groper's "Pensions for None, Money for Me" special election went down big (even the one good proposal on it: re-regulating utilities).  The "We Passed a Budget that Counts on You to Raise Taxes on Lower and Middle Income People" special election didn't go over so well either.  Moreover, irritants like Dianne Feinstein claimed that the failure was because Californians don't want to pay taxes.  (I dunno about all Californians, but I explained to Dianne that I'm plenty willing to pay taxes and tax corporations and the wealthy.  I'm just not so cool about regressive taxation.  Dianne wrote back to tell me that she knows everything.  Well, more or less that's what it said.  I write to Dianne with some regularity since she's always doing something miserable, and that's pretty much the response I always get.)

So old Jerry's willing to take a pretty big gamble on the photogenic quality of teachers and schools.  Dan Walters observed that he doesn't think the Dems in the state Congress will be so enthusiastic about passing Jerry's Doom Budget.  That's worth crossing one's fingers, I'd say.

It's not that I disagree in principle: we aren't raising state revenues sufficient to what the state needs, and way too many Californians have drunk the Korporate Kool-Aid and think taxes are bad and government takes money just to roll around in piles of it because services are free and those people are the only ones who get any services and those people don't deserve it anyway.  (Gee, sounds like the big old pile of money Jerry sat on until he got 13 for his pains.)

I do disagree in reality.  I look at the news and I note that business interests are praising Austerity Ireland even as it fails...while Iceland refuses austerity and recovers.  I hear whining Rethuglicans bearing giant scissors against the poor.  The interests that don't really care if our schools have enough money to survive have the cash to spend beating a tax proposal.

I don't know what options the state has to fund schools without some kind of revenues deal, and Prop. 26 (dear CTA, CFT: Next time, TAKE A POSITION) will complicate getting the money together.  On the other hand, Perez and the Dems in the Assembly could probably cook up a good scheme to punt this a few years down the road, and frankly?  A few years from down the road can't be as bad as now.

According to Rachel Norton, this sounds like another $25 - 30 million cut for SFUSD.  So I think we teachers can safely assume that we will have to face down our sad, sad BoE and Superintendent as they explain how it's not their fault and that they are far too spineless to refuse to pass a budget and (possibly) go into receivership (along with every other District in the state that's not already there) because if the state takes over, they lose their jobs it's really bad for the children.*  Also, equity only applies in good budget years.  Oh, and those new administrative officials?  Waaaay more necessary than teachers.

More broadly, to both SFUSD and the state, I think we need to start considering the Power of No, the possibility of civil disobedience and the refusal to play by the rules of Pass the Blame and Share the Burden.

And it goes without saying that we should begin planning our protest outfits and colors.  Traditionally, in local protests where schools select a color to identify their contingent, we're big on pink.  This requires some wardrobe arrangement on my part.

*I don't entirely disagree.  I do think that the tender embrace of the educrats and prostisuits at the state isn't worse for my school than the proposal the Board is likely to vote into action.  I've lived through state audit and Reading First: at least we still had teachers.  And I think it is deeply offensive to lecture teachers and communities about The Children without a. taking responsibility for what you are about to do to those children and b. mentioning that state takeover means the state fires the Superintendent and the Board loses its power.  You don't make self-interest dissipate by not mentioning it.

Teacher Esoterica: Useful Clothing Items

1. Special Operations Field Trip Pants.  Mine have twenty four pockets*.  This is extremely useful: one pocket for MUNI transfers, three big ones for water bottles, one for bandages, one for hand wipes, one for my ids/emergency cash, a mobile phone pocket, camera pocket...  They also have two hanging straps, which enable two extra children to walk with me (if they are having a goat freak out or similar).
2. Spare Jacket in a Neutral Color.  To leave at school for when the heat goes out or you forget that you have yard duty and are not dressed for more than ten minutes outside.
3. Fingerless Gloves.  Protect against violently dry hands.

I don't really go in for aprons or fanny packs, which are also pretty popular.

*Not a typo.  24.  They're awesome.

Lifeskills to Remember and Teach

1. We say "Thank you!" even if we do not like a present.  No one is required to give us anything, after all.  And therefore I cannot complain about this subscription to a whackamole right wing magazine I was just given, and not even as a gag gift.
2. Keep our things neat and clean so that others may use them.  They have to last.  Confidential to the ladies who shop at Saks: this means you, too.  Deodorant marks are a no no.  And if the zipper's that tight, you're not going to buy it.  Take it off.  Otherwise, the zipper is broken for the next shopper - good for my wallet but irritating in the extreme.
3. Say "Hello!" when you answer the phone.  And while you're at it, don't hang up until you know a. who it is and b. why they are calling.  Especially don't hang up when they ask for the teacher: drop the phone and get the teacher.
4. While it may be a lovely song, we are all tired of it after the tenth repetition.  Sadly, this includes the song I have on infinite replay before school starts.  The poor Resident.

Fun Facts and Responsibilities

Despite the fact that I wear a dress to school four days out of five, I am never girly enough for the Princess Contingent in my class.  This group is an annual society with a largely (but not entirely) female membership.  The Princess Contingent is the group that requires the monthly lectures on topics like Why We Don't Share Our Glitter Lip Gloss and No, Really: Pink IS For Everyone.  They also give me regular unsolicited fashion advice, typically covering skirts (should be longer and poufier, preferably involving panniers) and necklines (lower, always lower).

I have found that dressing to please the Princess Contingent on days when I'm not feeling it and the storm clouds are rising can make for a better day.  I think their vocal appreciation of my style rubs off on everyone else and such is my Aura of Nobility via Fashion that kids like to do as I say.

So yesterday I wore this really stunning vintage sheath dress and coat set...AND mascara.  Banner day.

Then I came home and read this.  It includes plenty of quotes and suggestions from state politicians and education figures...already capitulating to the end of 20:1 everywhere, a 170 day school year, and - as always - education taking the brunt of the budget crisis.

Gee, thanks!  Good to know that we are all standing together to protect the state's future...hey, where are you going?  GUYS?!

You know what?  I HAVE HAD IT.  Every year it's the same thing:

• this year will be the worst, next year will be better
• we have to "share the pain"
• there is no appetite for raising taxes
• 13 is the "third rail"
• you schools will figure it out somehow

And every year, the next year is in fact worse, the pain is shared among social services and safety nets but not its taxpayers, taxes on the poor and middle class rise while corporations get larger than ever cuts, poor school districts shorten their year, take the hit on their test scores and get told it's all their fault, and good teachers get laid off or decide they're tired of giving up their lives for the state.

And always, as always: poor schools, poor children and the underserved will get it the worst.

So, again: I HAVE HAD IT.

Marching forth on March 4th is not enough.  Filing a lawsuit against the state while capitulating to their budgeting is not enough.  Waving the spectral flag of insolvency and state takeover is not enough.  Conceding to school-destroying layoffs, increased furlough days and larger class sizes to protect...something or other is not enough.

It is time to say no.

It is time to march forth to sit in.  It is time to wildcat strike.  It is time to refuse to negotiate, refuse to sign a budget that kills schools and demand tax increases.  We do ourselves no favors by always finding a way.  We do ourselves no favors by saying that we can't change anything, we have no options and we as little as we like it we'll just have to give in.

I mean, do you see the Captains of Finance doing that?  Aren't we supposed to have the same performance-based (cough) accountability (hack) standards they do?  They don't give in.  They demand what they want, and the next thing you know my tax dollars are saving Goldman Sachs' cash from the AIG pit in exchange for wrecking the economy.

I say we do the same.  Nice isn't working.  Give me reality.

I have the responsibility to make my classroom work for my students.  I have the responsibility to make sure that they master the content standards and develop as decent, inquisitive people.  I take this responsibility everyday, including on those when I have to put on some lipstick and a fancy dress to cover three hours of sleep and stress.

I can't do it with thirty children in my room.  I can't do it on five years of pink slips in a row next to five years of Outstanding evaluations.  I can't do it on two cents for supplies, untrained colleagues and yet another salary cut by furlough.

Responsibility, in this case, demands that I refuse to participate in a system that destroys education.  It requires that I hold elected officials and District administrators to their responsibilities to protect students and teachers.

We need to refuse to allow this to be the worst year.

Trepidation

Hello, I am procrastinating.

A few weeks back, enterprising yet foolish criminals broke into my school.  Mostly, they made a big mess.  They also took all the MUNI passes in the office and ransacked the lost and found, but in the end no school has a huge supply of easily fenced, portable items around to steal.

I am opening the school today to get ready for tomorrow.  Some other people might come by; being the teacher who lives closest to the school I am the only one with a set of keys, a pass code and my very own SFUSD security card.  I'm kind of nervous about it, actually.

I am sure my pets want me to stay home, too.  And I could make stock from this turkey carcass...and go to school at 4:30 tomorrow morning to get homework packets made.  Bleargh.

In other news, it ends up that the parachute dress makes me look like an upside down muffin, so I got this one instead.  I don't think San Francisco really needed an AllSaints store (when I say San Francisco, I mean "my pocketbook", of course).

The Word of the Day is "Ruching".

I wore a really nice dress to school yesterday, one of those ones that explains why one might spend a lot of money for something that looks like a misshapen sack of fine Italian wool on the hanger: because when on the human body, it becomes a magical garment that loves each and every bit of your figure and makes it look awesome.

Without prompting, an adult volunteer at my school noted that I am performing a service with my fantastic wardrobe, because I am "exposing students to good design".

This volunteer is my favorite person in the whole world, starting with that comment.  This totally justifies any afterschool trip to the thrift store I take today.

The problem with private funding.

I have received tens of thousands of dollars in donations through Donors Choose.  Indeed, I just got two more grants filled this week.  Over the years, I've gotten

• rugs
• backpacks stocked with games and supplies, one for every child to take home at the end of the year (...twice)
• a workbench and tools
• a puppet theatre and all the goodies to go with it
• costumes
• oodles and oodles of sensory equipment (fidgets, raised-line paper, ball chairs, sit disks)
• oodles and oodles of PE equipment (ribbon wands, balance boards, scooter boards, a tunnel)
• an ipod dock and speaker system
• a mobile kitchen, including plates and silverware
• science units
• books
• math games
• reading games
• chair pockets, bookshelves and a rolling cart
• wall mazes
• extremely nifty arts and crafts supplies

In short, I've been very lucky to have had many generous private citizens and foundations support my students.  I am also an eager grant writer; for the last two years I have always had a project up on Donors Choose - except when all eight allowed have been filled and I am working on thank you projects.  And I can write a pretty good grant.  A colleague of mine says it's free money being wasted if you don't get those grants up, and I agree.

Also: I'm shameless.  Are you my friend?  Frienemy?  We went to second grade together and I have your email address?  Prepare to be solicited.

I am also asking for things that sound good.  I've had a couple of grants filled by the same foundation because I write grants for a specific area in which they are interested.  I have written some other grants to attract the interest of certain funding streams (and have been gratified by managing to get that interest, and the cash that accompanies it).

The problem is that not everyone is quite the grant-writer I am.  Not every teacher has the time to pull a grant together.  And some very basic needs - like school supplies - do not sound as awesome as "Help my students make extremely awesome sewing projects about their science learning" or "Caitlin Flanagan sucks: we want garden tools."

So while I certainly hope that all the world continues to enable my students a world-class, interactive and project-based Kindergarten, I'd prefer that all students could have the same experience through public funding.  The system we have now is unfair.  My students and my school do not have the advantage of generous local funding; we are lucky to have Donors Choose as a resource.  But there are equally-deserving schools that aren't able to make up the difference this way.

So far I am batting 1.00 on conferences: no no-shows three days in.  This is very exciting for me, since I really need to get them all done in a week and not try to run clean up.

In other school news, I am wearing my spiffy new school hoody featuring art from a well-known children's book author (sadly, not Tomi Ungerer, but almost as good) made specifically for our school.  The shameless scrounging to awesome thing is a staff trait; one of the teachers got the art and another got us a deal on the printing.  If we can just arrange for a Banksy mural we're so set.  Also,  I had a cute little  plaid-and-crinoline number to wear with the sweatshirt.

White Liberal Social Darwinism.

Only in San Francisco, seriously*.

According to denizens of the Aggrieved Reverse Racism Brigade, San Francisco (the city?  the district?  each and every resident?) is attempting to ensure "equality of results" (er, the usual phrase is "equality of outcomes", but I think the intent was to dumb it down for dimwitted Kindergarten teachers).

There is only one way to respond to this:

No.  There is no equality in outcome or in opportunity being attempted here.


How could you even say that with a straight face?

Let's look at some of those conditions here.

1. How many white people live at Sunnydale, originally slated to be torn down in the 1950s?
2. Are you aware of the location of Superfund sites in San Francisco?
3. How about of the breast cancer spike?
4. The asthma spike?
5. Taken a look at school funding inequities within the District lately?
6. Seen any of the figures on educating high-needs children?

That's just a teeny scrape on the pyramid of institutional racism.  There are your starting conditions.

As far as attempting equality in outcomes, how you could create evidence that anyone in San Francisco is attempting that is beyond me.  Are many forces - including SFUSD - trying very hard to ensure a quality education and college readiness for all students?  Is San Francisco attempting to offer medical care - thereby increasing productivity, life expectancy and ability to care for oneself - to the city as a whole?  Arguably, there is some attempt to enable equality of outcomes.

The thing is: it's a massive failure, and no one is trying that hard.  Yammering about being Beyond the Talk and being Beyond the Talk are two different things; no action SFUSD has taken leads me to believe that we'll be going beyond talking about Beyond the Talk.  Demanding A-G requirements is as powerful as mandating CASHEE: sounds good, no proof it'll do anything but increase the dropout rate.

Ultimately, what these semi-educated claims tell me is that the huge simmering vat of ignored privilege and sunny colorblindness that characterizes San Francisco's white liberal community is nearing a fast boil.

This is why I do not particularly care if San Francisco ever desegregates its schools.  Honestly, my school has a better chance of succeeding in its mission without having disruptive, anti-change elements like these in our community.  The students at my school are not the people who need to knock some sense into the ambience.

It is necessary work, of course.  Like it or not, the only way to ensure eventual equality of opportunity is to get all the stakeholders on board, and that includes the families turning to private schools because the public schools are scary social engineering places.  (Hack.)  And I do believe that it is the responsibility of white allies to do this work.  But I need a break from it, because I'm about to bash my head against the monitor to put it out of its misery**.

In other more cheerful news, I got a winter jacket.  With my thrifted Haider Ackermann culottes I cut a very Novakian figure in it and am more pleased with myself than usual.

*Okay, not really.  This particular blend of happy talk left politics and racism you don't see everywhere, though.  It's like a Ron Paul convention with more hugs.

**Which speaks to my own privilege, but you know what?  I am going to need to cut myself some slack on this one and reflect later.

I Hold These Truths to be Self-Evident.

1. The ultimate purpose of hanging standards with wall displays is to please disaffected, out of the classroom and generally useless administrators who cannot be bothered to observe actual teaching and learning and therefore want to wall-walk to decide how useful you are.
2. Given the lack of knowledge about standards in the arts, standards-posting dumbs down schools by mandating boring, strictly academic wall displays of limited beauty and interest.
3. Given that California is more or less "between standards" right now, having adopted Common Core but teaching from the state content standards-aligned textbook adoptions, standards-posting is particularly useless at present.
4. When one has encapsulated asbestos that precludes anything being hung from the majority of walls in one's classroom, standards-posting is a real waste of space and time.

What with the redesign, all the schools have a new host of administrators to please, all of whom bring their favorite pieces of school reform for our immediate adoption. Given that education reform assumes negative practice needing amelioration/reform (hey, don't take my word for it: even the Rheecolytes over at the Washington Post say so in their style guide), they come looking for their pet answer to the reformer question ("Why do all you classroom teachers hate children so much?").

If I seem a little irked, well that's because I am, having never desired the affected disaffection associated with popular British acts of the 80s.

Not only have I outlasted many school reform programs, I've also lived through many different procedures for administrative walkthroughs, and have hosted visitors both local and federal (with a stop at state-level functionaries, who in my opinion are the worst.  Living in Sacramento does nothing good for one's joie de vivre, and man do they take it out on you).

There was the three-minute-and-a-sticky-note period, which wasn't so bad because at least they left a post-it that informed you what their general takeaway was.  (I also had a really great principal at the time, a natural teacher who left administration to go back into the classroom, and that principal left useful questions or comments.)  I have several copies of Good to Great and other insipid corporate screeds floating around for kindling, I mean for drinking games at parties.  (I do not condone book-burning, and I don't want these things back on the market, so they hide out at my house.  Besides, you never know when a freak blizzard might hit, taking all power and leaving subarctic conditions.)  There was the biweekly long visit period, the you will all be on the same page at the same time at least you will be when the Reading Lions people show up period...

In my old district, our school's Kindergarten team was a go-to place for other district teachers to visit.  Our kids did quite well on district assessments, our Kindergartens were always full and the state team never had anything concrete to pin on us.  That said, it was also very well known that we did not in fact follow our state-mandated program to the letter, as mandated with a mandate, mandately.

That's because we taught Open Court.  Open Court, if taught by the book in Kindergarten, will not finish introducing letter sounds until mid-May.  That's a real problem for Kindergarten writing.  The literature selections are horrible, bad enough that a trainer told a room of teachers that the purpose of readalouds in Kindergarten is not the enjoyment of literature but the teaching of reading strategies (these two being in a dichotomy, apparently).  Kids will only learn thirty-three sight words, too.

If you want academically high-performing Kindergarten students, you're going to need to massage that curriculum.  Sounds will have to be introduced earlier, you'll need more sight words and, unless you want to hate yourself, your life and what your students will become, you'll be selecting your own readalouds.  We did this.  It was so well-known that we did this that there is an ex-district, now state-employee who used to warn my trainer about me at the annual AB466 training.  (One year she even read my homework to see if I was putting any anti-Open Court sentiment in there.  Looking back, it's kind of amusing (E. Rat: SUPERVILLAIN!  Debonair criminal, subverting Open Court trainings with real linguistics and Whole Language principles!  Fetch me my cape and/or stylish trench!  I prefer black!) but then it wasn't, and she did manage to get a colleague of mine fired.  Our kids did well.

But for site visits, the District wanted us to sing the party line: flip the alphabet cards back over, hide the extra sight words, find the OCR big books.  They wanted us to lie to our fellow teachers, to say that we did use the curriculum just like they did, and our results were better because of our intrinsic yet learnable awesomeness.  If they'd just try a little harder, their students could also excel, because Open Court works.

Reading this, it sounds like Catch-22 level paranoia (only a lot less humorous and well-written).  Sadly, it's not; the district and the Reading Lions had convinced themselves that the program worked, and when it didn't it was the teaching - and despite knowing we weren't toeing the line, they held us up as an example of what they believed.

The other drag of visits is that invariably nine will be normal or even awesome days, and the tenth will be horrible.  The kids will not be fidgety (I have in the past been both reprimanded and praised for letting students fidget/not sit criss cross applesauce/getting self-regulation items), they'll be lethargic.  Or twenty will be on their game, but number twenty one is having a meltdown of epic proportion, requiring immediate attention and leaving the other twenty to notice the strangers and react appropriately (tension?  check.  strange adults?  check.  teacher stressed out?  check.  unpleasant noise?  check.  peer melting down?  check.  All systems set for pandemonium!)

And speaking of these meltdowns, high-needs schools are going to get more than their fair share.  In this class - like any other at my school - I have students who are currently homeless, whose parents have had custody terminated, whose family members are incarcerated, who have experienced family violence and sexual abuse, who are experiencing food insecurity, who have sensory integration issues that lead to overstimulation, who do not trust strange adults because no good has ever come from one, who...

If wallwalkers want to be welcomed, they need to have a sit down with school staff first and explain why they're there, what they are looking to do and how they plan to help.  They can then do the same for the students whose classrooms they'll be interrupting.  And then they're going to need to visit regularly and get down in it - look at some data, find out about the neighborhood, come every day for a week to see the flow and stay quite a while in each class.  Then their takeaways will be useful: an outsider, but an informed one, whose perspective can be welcomed.

Otherwise they're just looking to feed whatever notion of school success and failure was popular when they got demoted outside the classroom.

In other news, for the first time ever I wore apparel that was worthy of compliment in the eyes of one of the extreme Jeremy's fashionistas (not the nice young college kids who work there rocking 70s revival wear, the other ones).  Perhaps I can continue to win praise so that when choice items from 2010 F/W start appearing I will know about it first. (Funnel neck bird print dresses, you made your first appearance 1.5 years ago and at this point we're approaching full ADHD hyperfocus.  Come to Jeremy's. Sport attractive price tags.  Be the envy of my Kindergarten students.)