UPDATE 3 September 2017: Yesterday, President Trump pledged to end DACA, which would make Karena (in the story below) an undocumented immigrant and one of the 1.5 million “good ones” vulnerable to deportation. This is a heartbreak for me and I’ve been thinking about her family all day. The first half of this post is relevant to that issue and the bottom half is tangential, but still important.

Both of those topics are uncomfortable to discuss with family or people from work.

That’s exactly the reason why we should talk about it.

Read all the way to the end.

Karena

Five B years ago, I taught math and was senior advisor to a group of 114 stinky teens that I’d known since they were sophomores.

It was magical.

At this particular school, most of the seniors were low on credits and trying to scrape by with a C- so they could walk at graduation.

Karena¹, however, was fantastic. Actual quote:

Karena: I love everyone around me, thatbs why I always say bHib. Youbre my homie.

Bubbly, friendly, social, hard-working, and musically-gifted, Karena played guitar and sang in her family band while maintaining a 4.0 GPA. She had a thick Mexican accent, but that didn’t stop her from loudly proclaiming her affections for one of my younger students in the Pre-Calc class:

Karena: Gustavo, you look cuteB today. Guys, when me and GustavoB have our kids, you are going to be the Godfathers.
Yesenia: Godparents.
Karena: Gustavo, where you going? Oh, he got me a ruler, how cute. Ibm-a take you to Mejico and show you my ranch and my cows. Ibm-a put you on my burro. Do you want to see my burro?
Gustavo: No.
Ray: Ibll see it.
Karena: No, Ibm only showing Gustavo. And I will buy you a cow. And then Ibm-a take you in a airplane.
Gustavo: Ugh! Leave me alone!
Karena: Gustavo, I brought you an apple. Here, open up you mouth.
Gustavo: What? No! Who feeds somebody an apple? Mr. Vaudrey, why are you laughing?
Karena: Come on, mi chiquito amor porcinob&
Gustavo: You just called me a pig!
Karena: b& Are you sure you donbt want your apple?
Gustavo: NO!
Karena: Ah! Gustavo. Stop rejecting my apple. When we get married, Ibm-aB divorce you.
Gustavo: Mr. Vaudrey! Shouldnbt you be stopping this?
Vaudrey: Gus, you should be flattered! Winning the affections of an older woman.
Gustavo: Shebs not even that oldb&er!
Vaudrey: Shebs a senior.
Gustavo: Ibm a junior!
Karena: Thatbs okay, I like leetleB kids.

This was a typical class period. Interspersing math with loud public advances on the shy boy (who smiled the whole time).

After Winter Break, Karena and the other seniors begin the trudge toward graduation, which increased in pace until Frantic May and Emotional June. In February, however, life was pretty good in Mr. Vaudrey’s 4th period.

We had just wrapped up periodic functionsB and were packing up to file out to lunch when I realized that Karena had been strangely quiet today and appeared to be staring hard at her notebook instead of packing up.

Once the class had emptied, I sat across from her. “Karena, what’s going on?”

She immediately burst into tears.

“Mr. Baudrey,” she wept. “I’m sorry I didn’t finish my homework last night. I had to work late at the store and I fell asleep behind the counter. These are the same clothes I wore yesterday, I just come right to school this morning with no shower. And my parents had to take my college money to pay bills.”

We sat in silence. Karena sniffled and dropped tears onto her immaculately-highlighted notebook, and I was stunned.

“What am I gonna do?” she asked, and looked at me.

I paused for a moment.B What is sheB gonna do?

I have no idea.B

Twenty-five years earlier, I was born the oldest of five children of a doctor. We had a big house and I could attend any college I wanted. We qualified for student loans and a large inheritance paid off most of my debt before I even graduated.

Karena worked late into the night andB did her makeup in the bathroom this morning. If she goes to college, she’ll likely work full-time and be saddled with a pile of debt when she’s done.

That is the main reasonB we should raise the minimum wage to $15 an hour.

Karena’s parents are undocumented immigrants.² They work very hard to provide a better life for Karena and her four brothers.

Karena is the exact type of person that we describe when we make references to “The American Dream”. Young, hardworking, traveling to the United States for opportunity. Her whole family works hard, but still can’t quite make it.

My wife and I are both educators with Master’s degrees, two paid-off cars, and a home with a pool. Neither of us have jobs were we have to work “hard”, and we’re still in the top quarterB of the wealthiest in the nation.

The minimum-wage earners can fight for themselves (and many are), but they need the support of the rest of us, too, if the higher-ups are to pay attention.

Currently, businesses like McDonald’s have little incentive to raise the minimum wage. While smaller companies can cut a bit from the top and spread it evenly along the bottom, McDonald’s pay increase would cost them quite a bit of money.B They’ll continue to keep things the way they are, exploiting immigrants and the poor to build a profit.

Does that make you uncomfortable? It makes me uncomfortable.

I didn’t know how to help Karena. Five years ago, I gave her a tissue and a granola bar, and I haven’t seen her since graduation.

But this is a way that I can helpB a little. Take thirty seconds and think about it.

~Matt “Middle-class by birth” Vaudrey

<sup>1. Not her real name.b)
2. She encouraged me to use this term instead of “illegal” immigrants. “A person can’t be illegal, Mr. Vaudrey.” .b)</sup>

P.S. Instead of taking time to type up a comment rebuking any of my claims, take that time and talk to somebody in your houseB about our responsibility to people less fortunate than us.

While driving between school sites after a morning of silent SBAC testing, I sighed and realized,B I don’t have much to blog about these days.

Which isn’t to sayB Nothing meaningful is happeningB norB I don’t have much to say,B I’m just finding other places to say it.

With that, here’s a prompt from #YourEduStory:

Describe your ideal conference: What is covered? Who is present?

Oooo, ideal. I love that word.

Introducing:

The Professional League of Unconventional Risk-Takers,B

sponsoring:

The PLURT Conference

[googleapps domain=”docs” dir=”document/d/1PwmJ6b4G1aCnSxwspJebRzjzUDVuZ_czp5VnXL6lv8Q/pub” query=”embedded=true” width=”800″ height=”1415″ /]

There are four things happening aboveB that furrow one’s brow:

1. Keynote Address
2. Discussion-based sessions
3. Tool-based Sessions
4. EdCamp Sessions

Conference attendees find value in each of these things individually, and rather than build a conference around keynotes and tool-based sessionsB (such a conference would surely entertain, but not challenge), the PLURT conference seeks to have enough of all four categoriesB to sate all comers.

Also, the PLURT conferenceB won’t have these things:

• Free tote bags with the PLURT logo – That money goes toward the breakfast, which is satisfying for longer than a swag bag.
• Awards – approximately 60B people cheered for Diane Main at CUE15, and she damn near walks on water. The remaining 5000 weren’t inspired to follow her on Twitter or read her blog (both of which, you should go do right now).
• Board recognition/nominations – PLURT board is run likeB jury duty, but optional; twice a year letters go out, and you can decline to serve if you so desire.
• Regional meetings – Instead, expand your mind and chat with somebody from Canada. That’s how I got fantastic ideas for my dream school from Kyle Pearce.
• Gear Raffle – “This new document camera goes to someoneB nominated during the week, who is new to the profession and in need of new equipment.”
• Door monitors – You wanna leave? Leave. You wanna sit in an empty room and brainstorm with new colleagues? Mazel tov, go for it.
• Grumpies – because after sitting in traffic and arriving late, you deserve a free coffee and a yogurt.

Let’s learn together.

~Matt “#PLURT16” Vaudrey

<sup>1. Yes, a keynote address. I haven’t yet decided what the purpose of a keynote is globally, but my survey so far seems to agree that “Inspire” is high on the list of what Keynotes should do, so we can open the PLURT conference with one.b)
2. …and the surviving cast of Star Wars re-enacts the Battle of Yavin on a scale model built out of legos while feeding me stuffed-crust pizza. Then we all go for a swim in a pool full of the tears of Stop Common Core supporters.b)</sup>

One year ago this week, I left the classroom to take a coaching position, not knowing if I would ever return. It was a risk, and while I’m usually a big fan of risk in the classroom, this risk was blind.

Tomorrow is my last day in the classroom. Possibly ever. Told students today. Mixed results. Blog post forthcoming.

b Matt Vaudrey (@MrVaudrey) March 19, 2014

Lemme clarify: I’m taking a job as P.D. Specialist, starts after Spring Break. #CUE14 is Thursday/Friday. Tomorrow is my last day. #NotFired b Matt Vaudrey (@MrVaudrey) March 19, 2014

Since then, I have changed schools/districts, presented at a dozen workshops and conferences across the state, and grown into many business-like skills that I didn’t think I would need.

For example, I never learned how to manage a calendar. Who would I need it? The bell tells me when to go potty.

Last week, I was walking around with the superintendent, visiting school sites and checking out classes that were doing interesting things (with tech). While killing time in the office, he asked me, “So, Matt; do you like your job?”

“Oh, yeah. It’s a great fit for me.” Luckily, my honest answer doesn’t require me to censor anything for the superintendent.

“Is it like what you thought it would be?” He leans in and raises his eyebrows.

“I don’t miss havingB my own students as much as I thought I would, andB I get to giveB fun demo lessons and never give report cards or IEPs.”

We all chuckle and head to the next class to visit.

Here’s the longer answer I could give:

Is this job what you thought it would be?

Not really. And that’s okay.

After the CUE conference, there are a half-dozen new cool things teachers wanna try. Most of them will go back the classroom and forget them. If I want, I can go back to a desk and spend timeB on the clockB figuring out new ways to make class more meaningful.

It’s pretty sweet.

(Notable:B I’ve been in about 15 classes as of Thursday lunch. Not much desk time this week.)

Also, I don’t miss having my own students as much as I thought I would. That was by far the most important part of my classroom, and I’m not finding a hole in my heart like I thought there would be.

I believe I’m doing a decent job ofB district-level coaching without being viewed as the district stooge, which was a worry of mine.

Since I gave a snapshot of this week a year ago as I left the classroom, I think it’s fitting to give a snapshot of this week (before I arrived at CUE 2015):

Researched web-hosting for my personal website and my boss’s soon-to-be-created CEPTA portfolio.

Chat with a Speech and Language Pathologist to answer the question “What technology will help with small-group instruction?” (This–by the way–is a much more effective question than “What can I do with iPads?”)

Fine-tuned a digital fitness portfolio for Middle School P.E. Teachers, then set up all the studentsB in Google Classroom and pushed out a blank copy. (Click that first link and check out the graphs. I’m quite proud of it.)

While joiningB the students to Ms. Berkler’s Google Classroom, I can tell she’sB clearly not understanding the intricacy of what they’re doing. She gives a shy smile and claims B “I’m not techy”. But she pacesB along dutifully as we logged into a Google ClassroomB with her Fitness Intervention students.

As fourth period files out to lunch, she turns to me and says, “This is going to be so good for us. I can see how this will help our class. AndB the students were really into your instruction!”

“Thanks!” I reply, “Any chance I can get in a classroom with middle-schoolers. They’re just soB fun!”

She smiles the biggest I’ve seen all day and declares, “I couldn’t imagine doing anything else.”

B

So, yeah. It’s going pretty well.

~Matt “One Year Anniversary” Vaudrey

“Stop!”

A whimper from across the terminalB makes me look up. A 12-year-old boy and I make eye-contact before he buries his face in his book and pleads to the woman on his right again, “Stop! Please!”

The heavy-set woman folds her arms and says flatly, “You just made it 400. Wanna try for five?”

The boy puts his book down and turns to look at the woman, his mother. “Stop!” He pleads again.

“Five hundred, it is. Let’s go for six.” She bristles up straighter in her chair as her son scoots lower and lower. “Six it is. You wanna stop crying now?”

The boy looks at me again, his face growing red and his pre-pubescentB hands squeezing the pages of a Captain Underpants book. The book flops onto his lap and he whispers, “Stop… please.”

“Seven hundred sentences,” Mom stares down her son, a hint of pride in her voice, which is loud enough for us to hear inB the row facing them. “You need to stop being oppositional. There;B you just made it eight.” She is determined to win.

The book covers his face again. “I’m not gonna write them,” he sobs into the pages.

“What’s that?” His mom holds a hand to her ear, a hint of sarcasm tints her voice. “Do I hear 900?”

“I’m not gonna write them!” He’s insisting now, trying to convince his mom or convince himself, I can’t tell.

“One. Thousand. Sentences.” Her head bobs with each word.

John growls in my ear. “I can’t sit here for this shit.” He angrily zips his bag and storms to the other end of Gate 29 at Ontario Airport.

This wasn’t the first time I’ve seen a novice teacher wrestle with the will of an adolescent. It’s not even the first time I’ve seen someone use writing as corporal punishment and be confident that it’s the right move.

But it’s the first time in recent memory that I’ve been powerless to do anything about it.

I join John a few feet away and we growl together in time to see the two of themB walk past.

Mom is holding son’s wrist with two fingers, insisting “I’m hardly touching you.” but clearly, she is further compounding his embarrassment. A boy on the verge of manhood, asserting his will against a his mother–the opposing force–but met with humiliation.

She raises her voice, as if to announce to the observers that she’s being reasonable. “Once you stop being so oppositional, then it’ll get better.” She sounds confident, but I know better. “You’re twelve years old. Stop crying!”

John leans in and says, “You know… a younger John would’ve said something to her. Like, ‘Hey, you’re training your son to hate school if you use sentences as punishment, so knock it off!’ A younger John would’ve let her have it.”

“Yeah.” I agree, “Getting older isn’t as fun when you’re supposed to tolerate bad management of teenagers. But you know telling her off won’t help her improve.”

“You know what I shoulda done?” John is so angry, he hardly hears me. “I shoulda said, ‘Lady, we can go talk in private or I can tell you what I’m thinking in front of your son.’” John’s eyes are alight and his jaw is clenched. Not a violent or angryB man by nature, his blood boils when he sees children maligned.

He probably would’ve made the poor woman shit her pants.

We line up to board and I ask the attendant, “How full are we today?”

He shrugs, “Only, like … 38 out of 140.” He waves us on.

Perfect. A ratio problem to distract us. I grin and ask John, “Well, 35 is five sevens and 140 is twenty sevens, so the plane is about 25 or 30% full, yeah?” We round the jetway corner and see the woman seated in a row by herself. A dozen rows further up, a small head of curly black hair looks out the window and sniffles.

I’m pleased to see that he’s asserting some independence. At the very least, it’s good to recognize when your emotions are weakening your verbal filter.

We settle into our seats across the aisle from the woman. I selfishly take the aisle seat, just in case the opportunity arisesB to talk about parenting with a woman 10 years my senior. I see her murmuring something to the flight attendant, and realizeB this is the moment when my wife would pull my sleeve and say, “Let it go. She’s not going to change based on a conversation with some guy on a plane.”

So I pull out my book and–as I’m prone to do–I have an imaginary conversation in my head. It goes like this:

My wife says my imaginary conversationsB start out reasonable and get stupid toward the end.

B

*Ding*

“Welcome to Ontario Airport. Local time is 10:35 PM.”

John and I unbuckle our seatbeltsB and pull down our bags.

B

On my way out, the boy looks at me. I resist the urge to say, “Hang in there, dude. It’ll get better.”

B

Because I’m not sure it will.

~Matt “Guardian Angel of Parenting” Vaudrey

P.S. John wrote about the experience, too. And my distaste for this style of punishment isn’t anything new.

The best record of the good things in 2014 is my Twitter feed, so here are some of the best moments from 2014, in Tweet-form, semi-chronologically:

January of 2014, John Stevens and I gave a training for the Mariposa County math teachers called La Cucina Matematica.

A year later, we’ve done sixB or sevenB of them (allB wayB better than the first one), and it spawned a website and we’re both getting calls to train staff across the country. Pretty sweet.

Thank you for reminding me the fun that can be had in math…rejuvenated!! #LaCucinaMath

b Rachel (@ms_divateAcher) January 10, 2015

A few months later, I interviewed for a job in-district as Professional Development Specialist.

That meant leaving the classroom mid-year.

Tomorrow is my last day in the classroom.
Possibly ever.
Told students today.
Mixed results.

Blob post forthcoming.

b Matt Vaudrey (@MrVaudrey) March 19, 2014

Lemme clarify: I’m taking a job as P.D. Specialist, starts after Spring Break. #CUE14 is Thursday/Friday. Tomorrow is my last day. #NotFired

b Matt Vaudrey (@MrVaudrey) March 19, 2014

Even though I had more time at home, the jobB wasn’t professionally satisfying. I enjoy doing math with students, I don’t enjoy structuringB curriculum maps for integrat—Yegh. I’m bored already.

I did have more time to blog, though.

This is one of a few lessons that got my students excited enough to yell bHoly shit!b at the end. http://t.co/sJGMwtyJ3lb& #mathchat #mtbos

b Matt Vaudrey (@MrVaudrey) May 21, 2014

So eight weeks later, I interviewed and accepted aB different job. It was immediately fantastic.

First week as EdTech Coach: Trained 100 Ts on Music Cues Followed up with 15 Ts in class. Demoed a couple dozen workflow tricks #lovethisjob

b Matt Vaudrey (@MrVaudrey) August 16, 2014

In between all of that chaos, we had a baby on Father’s Day.

My wife looks terrified because baby ClaytonB didn’t cry/breathe right away. It was the longest, scariest 7 seconds of my life.

But he’s fine now.

If you’re curious, he has a hashtag on Instagram and so does his sister, which makes compiling pictures really easy with IFTTT.

Then I settled into the glorious routine of “figuring out a new job that hasB noB job description,B total autonomy, and a supportive supervisor who’s a hoot”.

Out of “the rat race”, so to speak, of day-to-day teaching, I had more mental energy to play with my kids, read books, and think about education and my future in it.

Today’s Epiphany: 2:1 that promotes student discussion is better than 1:1 that promotes student isolation. #edtechchat #edtech b Matt Vaudrey (@MrVaudrey) October 20, 2014

This new job is just as supportive as the classroom position when it comes to attending conferences and presenting. It’s notable that some of my top tweets of the year happened during CMC, CUE, and GTA.

It’s okay to fail, it’s okay to take a long time, it’s okay to suck. It’s not okay to sit there. @fawnpnguyen at #CMCS14 PREACH! b Matt Vaudrey (@MrVaudrey) October 24, 2014

When @ebb663 got me at #CMCS14: In 20 years, Ss will forget formulas. What will they take from your classroom to make them their best self? b Matt Vaudrey (@MrVaudrey) October 25, 2014

If you don’t fail often, you aren’t trying hard enough. –@edoan at #GTAATX pic.twitter.com/PtNoXmRv38 b Matt Vaudrey (@MrVaudrey) December 2, 2014

Teachers won’t be replaced by computers. Teachers will be replaced by /Teachers/ who use computers. @TechedUpTeacher #GTAATX #edtech b Matt Vaudrey (@MrVaudrey) December 12, 2014

Also, I had a little help compiling this list from My Top Tweet and some fancy Googling.

For 2015:

I turned 30 in 2014. While that meant throwing a 1997-themed birthday, it also meant looking forward.

What can I give to Education thatB nobody else can give?

While I may never have a good answer for that, I’m getting closer to a coherent response.

In 2013, I gave 150 students a fun place to talk about math; a safe place to take risks and trust each other.

In 2014, I taught (or attempted to) a hundred or so teachers about how to buildB their classes into that type of class. Also, some other like-minded individuals and I began to wonder, “Could we find a way to effect greater change in Education? How do we get there?”

In 2015, we will keep asking hard questions and dreaming. We’ll see what happens.

Question to ponder in 2015: I would move states to work at a fantastic school and send my kids there. What kind of school would it be?

b Matt Vaudrey (@MrVaudrey) January 26, 2015

~Matt “I wanna change the world, but I also want to teach” Vaudrey