Mrvaudrey

Category: Tough Issues

  • Another Day In Paradise

    I pause the Glue Song and ring the tiny bell on the cart.

    “People, look over here. This pink paper is LAMIAH, that was yesterday’s homework that I forgot to pass out. Please raise your hand if you need it and Frank will pass it out. This white paper is MARSHALL. Glue MARSHALL and the Warm-up into your Math notebook, please.”


    (This is the Glue Song. It’s a sound cue, telling the students that the directions on the board involve glue.)

    I hand a pink stack to Frank and put the Glue Song back on. As soon as the music hits their pubescent ears, I am beset by questions.

    “Mr. Vaudrey, you forgot to stamp my planner.”
    “Mr. Vaudrey, do I glue them on the same page?”
    “Mr. Vaudrey, can I get a drink of water? But I’m thirsty!”
    “Mr. Vaudrey, can I do number one?”
    “Mr. Vaudrey, my dog attacked a rabbit this morning.”
    “Mr. Vaudrey, I didn’t get LAMIAH.”
    “Mr. Vaudrey, did you hear that? James said he’s gonna hurt me!”

    “You need Mark in the office? Thank God.”

    I only have 21 students in this class, but each one has specific needs on my time, and any one of them ignored will cause a cavalcade that will corrode the rest of the period.

    “Then take your planner out right away so I can see it. I don’t care how you glue them, it’s up to you. You just had lunch. Talk to Maria and Desmond to see which ones they are doing. That’s great; do the warm-up. Frank is passing it out, he’ll be here in a sec. You did the right thing by not responding to him. James, let me speak to you outside.”

    It’s possible that the homeless guy in Glendora who talks to himself–seemingly sporadically–is just replaying conversations from when he used to teach middle school.

    Typically, when non-teachers actually see my classroom, they exclaim, “Wow. I could never do that.” It makes me feel good; knowing that my six years of skills are beginning to take shape into a career.

    But my students are just a different bunch. At least nobody masturbated at their desk today. (Some students have done that in last year’s classes).

    The first part of the period is the hopeful part; the class can go either way. Either they will be motivated and hard-working…

    … or he will give up, seek distractions, lament “I don’t get it!” with her head on the desk, tuck his head in his shirt and rock back and forth, tell the new girl she’s fat, tell him he can go to hell, tell her to go eat a cheeseburger, he’ll chew gum, claim it isn’t gum, and ask to go to the nurse.

    All of which happened in the first 15 minutes of our lesson on Slope.

    I have to remind myself (in the moment, especially) that they weren’t born this way. These students are the product of low skills, bad teachers, lazy parents, low-income community, a disinterested school culture, and Hot Cheetos con Limon. Any one of those by itself would be a challenge, and in 4th period, I have a huge cocktail.

    Which, coincidentally, is what I’m craving after they leave.

    Celebrate the successes and push through the challenges.

    Come on, Vaudrey. These kids need learnin’ and you’re just the guy to do it.

  • Not One Of Those Days

    There are days when I love my job. Days when I know that some students combated their ignorance with their effort and triumphed. Days when I lay my head on my pillow at night knowing that I did my very best and I changed lives.

    Today was not one of those days.

    Today was a “Put on Rage Against the Machine and scream at the steering wheel on the way to a church board meeting” days.

    [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tfhJV9FZGAk]

    (NOTE: That video probably has some swearing in it. So does this post.)

    I mean, most of my classes were fine. Kids worked hard, performed well in groups, and built on basic skills AND graphingba quite successful day.

    Except 4th period.

    Like a swarm of locusts, they descended on my ramp. Already pushing, yelling, and making inappropriate jokes. I held out my hand for them to shake (as I do every day) and one student flat out refused.

    I knew a storm was brewing.

    I battened down the hatches and piloted a new game for them, but it was no use. I sent two students to the office before we even finished the warm-up. They made it clear they had no intention of contributing to the class, yet I felt a twinge of regret as I called for their escortbsurely I could have done something differently.

    The day progressed and three students earned detentions (gum, gum, and continued disruption) before we did our 6 times tables and left.

    Then the real show began.

    Figure 2: An orderly and respectful classroom

    Ryan stayed after school to grudgingly serve his gum detention. I instructed him to move the desks into the configuration I projected on the wall.

    bIbm hungry! I donbt wanna do anything!b

    Deep breath. bRyan, you have two options: You can do 15 minutes with me without complaining or you can do two lunch detenbb

    bBut Ibm hungry! I donbt wanna do this!b

    bIs that your choice then? The two lunch detentions? I can have Ms. Holwood call you out tomorrow to talk about it.b

    bb&no.b Ryan stuck up his lip in a perfect teenage sneer. This could have been the cover of Teenage Sneer Monthly.

    Figure 3: The “Hiding Gin In A Water Bottle” Issue

    bOkay, then. Your two options are 15 minutes with me without complaining or interrupting, or two lunch detentions with Ms. Holwood. Whatbs it gonna be?b

    bHere!b

    For the next two minutes, Ryan held a desk and wiggled it when I looked his way. Then he acted surprised when I sent him out.

    He paused at the door and screamed, bI hate you!b before pounding a chair and my door with his fists and storming down my ramp.

    Figure 4: How he felt vs. How he sounded

    Nothing like this has ever happened to me before. My students mostly like mebeven the ones that dislike me donbt hate me.

    I felt like absolute shit for a couple hours, even though experts in teenage defiance (the RSP teacher, my youth pastor wife) assured me that it was just bwhat they dob.

    Doesn’t matter. I felt (and still feel) that I could have done something different to avoid this situation without compromising the order of my classroom.

    Oh, well. I have two days without Ryan in my classroom to think about it. Hebs on class suspension pending a parent conference. I guess that means I win.

    Sure donbt feel like a winner.

    Concerned Parents Against Funfetti

    UPDATE 10 October 2012

    After a phone conference with dad and a day of class suspension, Ryan and I agreed on a hand signal for him to indicate to me when he is getting angry.

    Today’s art project and lesson went swimmingly for all classes (including 4th period sans Ryan). Today I feel like a winner.

  • A Come to Jesus Meeting

    It’s a phrase that my mom used when I was young. “We’re gonna have a Come to Jesus meeting when you get home about your grades in English.”

    A balding preacher springs to my mindbwhite knuckles gripping the podiumbleaning toward the congregation and flecking the front row with frothy vengeance, screaming, bTurn from thy wicked ways!b

    Thatbs certainly how I felt on Thursday with my iPad class.

    On Wednesday, I got an email from one of the P.E. teachers describing her discontent with my students using their iPads to take pictures, play games, and dick around during P.E. class.

    She probably didnbt say bdick aroundb. Thatbs an embellishment.

    This emailbcopied to my administrators, of coursebgave voice to a sentiment that other teachers were probably feeling; I donbt know what to do with these things. Can I confiscate them? Can I discipline the students for taking them out?

    I sent an email apologizing for the students and assuring that I would deal with it. I sent an email with the iPad policies to the whole staff, then cracked my knuckles and waited for the iPad class to stumble unwittingly into 3rd period.

    As they entered, I shook everyonebs hand (as I do every day) and said, bGood morning! Please put your iPad in the cart and have a seat.b

    Then I came to my podium.

    bTeachers have been complaining about this class. [dramatic pause] They say that you are taking your iPads out in other classes, taking pictures, playing games, and letting other students use them. [dramatic eye contact with the offenders] You all know what the expectations are; you signed a contract and so did your parents. You know what to do, and youbre making me look bad. So today, webre going to practice how to have a class without the iPad, so you know how your other classes should look. Clearly, you need some practice.b

    Then I put on a smile and we went through the period. I thought they got the point.

    The next day, I caught two different students playing games in my class. I directed them to put their iPads in the cart, and their responses were:

    bWhat? Ibm done already.b
    and bWhy?b

    To the second student, I fixed him with my best teacher stare and asked in a low tone, bIs that a serious question?b

    He wisely didnbt respond.

    I quite enjoy Halloween. I love to put on a costume and be somebody different for a short while. Itbs not because I donbt like my usual self, but itbs just so fun to be somebody new for a little bit.

    Thatbs why Ibm comfortable being a hardass in short installments. I like when everyone in my class is happy, but teachers will tell you that a teacher who is only happy will result in a class that is only unruly.

    For those two students, I began taking deep breaths about 10 minutes before the period ended, preparing myself to instill the fear of the Lord in them.

    When the class ended, I motioned for those two to wait, and the RSP teacher to also stick around. I brought them over to my desk and showed them a copy of the student/parent contract.

    bThis is the contract that you and your parent signed. This bullet point says I will use the iPad for academic purposes during school hours in accordance with the rules set forth by MVUSD. You both were well aware of the rulesbespecially after our conversation yesterdayb but you chose to break them anyway. In this contract, the penalty is removal from this program and this class. We will have a meeting this weekend to see if you should be removed. Ibll let you know what we decide on Tuesday. Youbre dismissed.b

    Two wide-eyed and trembling teens trudged out the door. Once it closed, I turned to the RSP teacher and asked, bToo much?b

    Her eyes were also wide. bNo! That was awesome!b

    Then I called their parents and gave them the same discussion. I predict two very remorseful students in my 3rd period on Tuesday.

    “This is worse than when Nemo died and I had to flush him.”

    Furthermoreband this is the part that my wife doesnbt getbIbm buying myself an easier year by sacrificing these two little lambs on the altar. Because middle-school students gossip like two old church ladies at bridge club.

    You can guarantee that every other student in the class will be terrified to use a game in class, which is exactly what I wanted. Thatbs why I was comfortable wearing the Red-Faced Preacher mask for a few minutes.

    So that I can be Happy Math Teacher for the rest of the year.

    UPDATE 2013 January 31st:
    One of the aforementioned little lambs didn’t come to Jesus, and was removed from the course after his next offense a month later.

    He probably hates Temple Run now.

  • Getting Pinked, riffed, or “having probationary status terminated”

    bDid you hear? Mr. Avery got RIFfed!b

    bYeah, I got pinked again this year.b

    bMr. Vaudrey? Hi, we got the listb& and youbre on it.b

    Non-teachers, you have no doubt heard one of the above terms used around this time of year. Herebs what they mean for teachers:

    Beware the Ides of March

    Every year by March 15th, the California Education Code (bEd Codeb for short) states that teachers must be notified if their contract isnbt renewed for the next school year.

    This could be for several reasons:

    1. The teacher is brand new to teaching and itbs just not a good fit. This way, he or she can get a new job, a fresh start, without saying bI got firedb.
    2. The state has no money, so schools have to make the same services available to kids, but with less staff, so itbs a Reduction In Force (bRIFb for short)
    3. The district has no moneyb&
    4. The school has no moneyb&
    5. The city has no moneyb&
    6. The teacher is new to the school and this is a good way to see if they will work out: Fire them after a year, then if you want them back, you re-hire.

    In our district, we have over 300 positions being cut.

    Thatbs a lot. Itbs about one in five.

    “Anybody with levitation skills gets pinked. It’s a new district policy.”

    Herebs why teachers make a big fuss about it:

    Suppose you work at the GAP.

    “Hi, I’m Devon. Can I get you a pooka-shell necklace?”

    You were brand new to the retail business and hired on a bProbationaryb basis. You work very hard and sell a lot of modestly priced polo shirts.

    Then March 15th comes, you are told that you might be fired, for no reason, in June. Do you keep working hard until then?

    “These pencils aren’t going to perch themselves.”

    b&cuz itbs really tempting to take your time stocking the capri pants after that. Whatbs the point? Youbre out of a job in a few months.

    Some of your co-workers start using up their sick days and some outright quit.

    Still unclear?

    Suppose you play football.

    Your season ends and you are told your contract is over. Itbs pretty common, but you canbt help feeling that youbd be kept if youbd made more tackles or touchdowns.

    You quite enjoyed playing for your team, the Colts, but they may not have the money to hire you back.

    Do you snoop around other teams for a job? If you find one, youbll just be starting out there at the bottom of the ladder, ready to have the same thing happen next year.

    Do you wait it out and see what happens? They all like you on the Colts, but what if the season starts and they canbt afford to keep you? You then have no team to play for. Is that better than playing for the Redskins?

    [This is probably a good place for some snide remark about the Redskins.]

    My first year teaching was a disaster. It was so bad, that I got pinkedB in late January. They didnbt even wait until March to let me know that I was done.

    I stuck it out, though. I worked just as hard all the way to mid-June, harder perhapsbknowing that I had nothing to lose and I could try new things.

    At least this year, I made it all the way to Pi Day.

    Also, if you work at a charter school, as I previously did, they are exempt from the March 15th rule, as I wrote previously in anger.

    **Credit to Laura, from whom I stole the bold formatting idea.

  • Nancy’s Christmas Gift

    (Names and details have been changed for confidentiality.)

    bb&and was recently examined for ADHD.b

    I lean back at my desk withB relief and close the e-mail. I wonder if she got prescribed anything. Maybe that will calm her down.

    Thatbs the problem with students like Nancybthey really challenge your teaching philosophy.

    On the one side, I want all of my students to succeed and learn Algebra in my class. On the other hand, I would secretly love for a test to render Nancy a bSpecial-Edb label, so she could have an aide to supervise her, or (even easier) get her out of my class. About 92% of me wants her to succeed in my class with no help.

    But that 8% of meb& oh, I hope for a release from her yelling, leaving her desk, poking other students, standing next to me during a lesson with her hand up, and other impulsive middle-schooler behaviors. But that 8% is present in every one of my sighs, every exasperated response, and every time I rub my temples as she asks, bMr. Vaudrey, am I annoying?b

    Yes, Nancy. Yes.

    You annoy me and every other student in the class when you call out to them across the room during a test, when you ask questions to people who arenbt even looking at you, and especially when you monitor whobs next for the bathroom pass. Youbre annoying when you proclaim that youbll buy students expensive birthday gifts, but never follow through.

    Itbs annoying, even though Ibm pretty sure your mom is unemployed, and your promise to buy Brandon an iPad is all pomp to mask the shame.

    Nancybs mom is baffled at how to control her. There are rumors that she has Nancy stand in the corner for hours at a time just so she can have some peace. The staff at school isnbt sure where Dad is, but we know that the family doesnbt have much money. Nancy waited weeks to get glasses and didnbt bring any of the four items she promised for the class party.

    So itbs Thursday before Winter Break. Nancy comes to my class before school starts.

    bGood morning, Nancy. Youbre about 5 hours early to class.b

    She smiles, shuffles her feet and avoids eye contact. bUmb& Mr. Vaudrey? Likeb& my mom works at Nordstrombs andb& umb& I didnbt know what to get youb& sob& umb& like, web& uh. We got you this.b She holds out a small, unassuming gift bag with a bent tag and a card. To: Mr. Vaudrey. From: Nancy.

    bThank you, Nancy! This is the first gift Ibve gotten this year. Thank you very much.b I shake her hand and hold the gift still, hoping to signal to her that itbs polite to leave after you give a gift. She gets the hint and clumps off to first period in her too-big shoes.

    Back behind my desk, I open the card first, like the good boy my mother raised. The card, written in Nancybs pointed scrawl says, bMr. Vaudrey thank you very much for help me in my work and helping me be a good person inclass.b

    I peel back the tissue paper. Inside the bag are cologne samples from Nordstrombs.

    From a low-income family who wanted to give a gift to their daughterbs teacher.

  • That wasn’t fun, but it was necessary


    bMr. Vaudrey, you look mad. What did the sub say about us?b

    bGood afternoon.b I growled, looking through Jackie as she clumped through my door. bTake a seat.b

    The look on her face showed that my plan was working.

    Once the bell rang, I had 24 students in their seats glancing nervously around; they knew something was up, and it wasnbt gonna be pretty.

    Brrrrrrring. bHave a seat. Once again, you were terrible for the sub. Once again, you embarrassed me. Start on the warm-up.b The usual upbeat music was silent, the normally boisterous class was sullen and quiet, andB my smile was replaced with an exhausted scowl (which was only about 10% legitimate and 90% facial drama).

    I forced this look on my face all class period. It was not easy, despite how she makes it look.

    Thankfully, my two Honors classes were delightful for the sub, working diligently in their groups to finish the art project. One of those students today actually asked this question, verbatim:

    bMr. Vaudrey, can I participate in answering the next problem?b

    I know. Hebs a cherub.

    My fourth period, however, despite being pleasant and respectful for me, turned into a class-ful of the flesh-eating scarab beetles from the Mummy movies, devouring any substitute teacher who dares to cross the threshold of my holy classroom.

    Not THAT kind of Beatles takeover.

    Naturally, this reflects poorly on me. If a dog bites the neighbor, you blame the owner.

    My fourth period bit the neighbor, shredded the neighbor’s best shoes, and peed on the carpet. It all happened while I was away from home, so I canbt discipline them; they wonbt know what they did wrong. After reading the sub report, I wished I had a rolled-up newspaper.

    In the past two or three bad sub reports, I had given them a stern lecture, but eventually relented and gone on with my plan for the day. I’m too nice, as some students put in their evaluation a few weeks ago.

    Today, I knew that, if change were to occur, it had to start with me. I resolved that I could be the grumpy teacher, at least for a day.

    After doing the warm-up, presentations, sharing about good things in our lives, and going over the homework, the students had been waiting for 25 lingering, somber minutes to know what the sub said about them. I let them have it, exactly as Mr. Lindsay wrote on my form:

    bNotes about Period 4: Rowdy & loud class. There was really only one student in each group that doing all of the work while the others messed around. I had to spread the groups out to help keep them focused & not visiting with other groups, but most groups did not finish.

    P.S. I kept the whole class after the bell rang.”

    I sighed. bI was surprised by this last part; the sub wrote some names of students who were especially disruptive. Some of those names were students that I told him were trustworthy and helpful. That surprised me.b When I said surprised, I hope that my tone implied incensed.

    See? Incensed.

    After staring at the paper and making no eye contact, I slowly looked up at the class, as if my eyes were weary from the report they had just read. bDaniel, you were helpful and respectful when Kelsey got stuck on the warm-up a few minutes ago. Where was that Daniel yesterday?b

    bOhb& uhb&b Daniel grins, clearly uncomfortable.

    I take a labored breath. bClearly you guys donbt respect me like I respect you. I guess some things have to change. Today, webre trying a different type of class, so we can practice being professional students. Is there anything that you want to say about the sub?b

    Ibve been talking for a few minutes now, and their silence shows their remorse. A few hands raise, and I call on James. bHe had a funny voice.b

    I turn to face James fully. His smile evaporates as he realizes that nobody laughed at his joke. A few students hiss at him as I tilt my head in a confused frustration.

    Oops, said James.

    bThatbs what you have to say? After all the sub had to say about your behavior, thatbsb& you know, just forget it. Put your hands down, let’s move on.b

    Some studentsb eyes widen; this is not normal attitude for me. I dramatically drop the stack of papers onto the desk in front of me and ask Kira to pass them out. Earlier this week, Jamesb cute comment would have only garnered a dismissive wave from me, but today is not the day to be cute with Mr. Vaudrey.

    The class remains silent as I instruct them to work quietly for 15 minutes alone on the review sheet. I hear Stef whisper, bMan, we usually play games to review.b

    The rest of the day was spent in their seats, speaking only when asked, and working diligently. As the class neared the end of the day, I made a point to encourage little successes.

    bOkay, eyes on meb& Oh, that was good! You got focused right away! See, I knew you had it in you, now bring that out when the sub is here, too.b

    The last four minutes of class, 86 minutes of drill-sargeantry had taken its toll on me, and I allowed them to start their homework in pairs, chatting quietly. As the bell rang, I held up the sub report and ripped it in half.

    bLetbs have this be the last one of these, eh? Have a great day, Ibll see you tomorrow.b

  • Trial and Error

    bMr. Vaudrey, Ibm stuck on this problem.b Nathan waved me over during after-school tutoring one day in April 2011.

    bOkay, let me have a look.b I said, leaning over his table.

    bAh,b I straightened and strode to the whiteboard, pulling a marker from my back pocket. bI recommend plugging each point into the function and seeing if they work. Three of them wonbt work. The one left over is the correct answer.b

    Nathan scrunched his nose and furrowed his brow. bThat seems like going around the b& the idea. Isnbt there, like, a formula or something?b

    bWell, in this case, the line is the solution to that function, so youbre seeing which of these points fit inside the solution.b

    Nathan leaned back. bYeah, I get it. It just doesnbt feel like good math.b

    I laughed, bYeah, well sometimes in real life, you gotta try stuff until something works.b

    [

    B bMister Vaudreeeeee!b Natalie screeched, sprinting across the classroom with Jenny in tow. bSomebody took my pink pen.b

    Itbs January of 2008, my first year teaching. I am drowning in the flow of my responsibilities without the skills to paddle my way out. We just got back into class from a fire drill and Natalie is distraught.

    bIt was her Christmas present, Mr. Vaudrey.b Jenny states with a somber face. bIt was a Gel Sparkle.b

    bOkay.b I rub my eyes, deciding if this is worth my trouble. Deep in my psyche is a youth pastor, feeling the need to be liked by my students and wanting to play a little joke on the other students. I lean in close and say, bWatch this.b

    bAlright, listen up!b I stride purposefully from my desk to the front of the class. bWhoever took Nataliebs gel pen, give it back or the whole class gets detention. I am not kidding!b

    The irony being that I totally was kidding. I had no intention of giving anybody detention, especially if Natalie got her pen back.

    This was an interesting time in my teaching career. I recognized the importance of honesty and the reward that had to be inherent.

    • B If Chris stole Natalie’s pen and gave it back, he took a risk and was honest. If I give him detention, he learns that itbs better to be sneaky and avoid consequence.
    • If I give Chris thanks for stepping up and congratulate his boldness to take responsibility, I show him that redemption is more gratifying than sneakiness

    Yet in this situation, Ibm prepared to make an idle threat to the whole class in hopes that Natalie could possibly have her stupid pen returned.

    Nobody produced the pen, and nobody got detention.

    The students left knowing that I sometimes make threats where I donbt follow through. If I were a student, I would store that information for later. Perhaps when I get in trouble, I can point out Mr. Vaudreybs inconsistency with bBut you didnbt take away Adrianbs phone when he was texting!b

    Later that year, two students had their pencils stolen during fire drills. I ignored it.

    [

    Ehhn! Ehhn! Ehhn!

    The students looked up from their books as the fire alarm grabbed their attention.

    bAlright, folks. Grab your pencils and head outside!b I shout over the siren and point towards the door.

    bPencils? Why are webb

    bNo time to ask questions! Itbs a fire drill! Get outside if you donbt wanna burn, child!b With eyes wide, I gestured dramatically toward the door.

    The students smile, pocket their pencils and head out the door in a bunch. Once in the evacuation zone, I line them up and take attendance.

    Back in the classroom 20 minutes later, a student asks, bMr. Vaudrey, why did we take our pencils?b

    I think back to Natalie and her stolen Sparkle pen and say. bFirewood. We donbt want to give the fire anything more to burn. Now, let’s talk more about Vectors.b

  • I thought I’d heard it all

    I thought Ibd heard it all.

    At first, Jane was just another bproblem studentb who had trouble focusing. She claimed that she was just hyper, or just had a bunch of candy; the usual excuses. I thought that I had made a breakthrough when she told me she was dyslexic. My eyes lit up as I moved her to the front of the class and provided the notes in advance with blanks for her to fill in. I was excited to be able to meet her needs as a teacher.

    Then she started missing school. Shebd come in late with a limp and ask to be left alone for the day.B bWhatbs the matter? Hungover again?bB Ibd smirk.

    bSomething like that,b she said with a weak smile. Later that day, shebd murmur something about a spinal tap.

    bOh, man!bB I said,B bmy sister had one of those and she got awful headaches.b

    bYeah,b she said. bI have headaches; I couldnbt do the homework last night.b A pretty weak excuse as excuses go. Ibve heard a lot of them. Ibve heard a lot of excuses.

    Then shebd miss a whole day. She came back to class with no energy and didnbt have the pluck to talk to her classmates during the lesson or distract her neighbor. bI was with family. Therebs drama at my house. I couldnbt finish the project.b Ibve heard that one a lot, but I give grace for unstable home lives. I thought Ibd heard it all.

    Soon she was out a whole week at a time. The office would call and say that Jane was in the hospital and her mom was coming to pick up her assignments. Hospital is a good excuse. One of the best Ibve heard. I thought Ibd heard it all.

    When she got back, Ibd be patient and show her what she missed. Jane was pretty bright and could have gotten an A if she were in class more often. I would tell her that when filling her in on the Perimeter and Area of Trapezoids.

    Eventually, she leveled with me.

    bMr. V, I have cancer.b

    I thought Ibd heard it all.

    bLike bad cancer?bB I asked.

    bWell, itbs a b& osteoblastomab& I think.b

    I know enough to know that having bblastb in the name isnbt a good sign, but I keep a straight face.B So whatbs the plan?

    bNothing,b she shrugged.

    bWhat do you mean, nothing? I mean whatbs the plan for treatment? Chemo? Radiation?b

    bNope. I donbt want none of that. My auntie had cancer in her face, and even after they took it out, she still has it, like under her eye. The radiation just made her hair fall out. Ibm already losing my hair and I ainbt gonna be one of them bald girls.b

    I tilted my head sideways. bSob& thatbs it? Just giving up? How long do you have?b

    bWell, the doctor says if I eat right and take the pills then I could have years left, but I donbt even eat at all now and those pills make me tired. So maybeb&six months?b

    I thought Ibd heard it all.

    bWhy not fight it?b

    bOh, uh-uh. I saw what it did to my auntie. Three weeks in a hospital and it didnbt even cure nothing. I hate hospitals to begin with. I ainbt doin that. My momma wants me to do the treatment, but she knows itbs my life. Itbs my decision.b

    bHmmb&Ibm curious why not; it seems like you haveB yearsB to gain by risking weeks.b

    bMr. V, it sounds like you trying to convince me.b She grins a winning smile, white teeth against her dark skin.

    bNo; youbre going to do what you want to do. I just want to understand you and make sure you know what youbre doing. Do you journal?b

    bNo.b

    bYou should start.b

    bWhy?b

    bBecause,bB I say, touching my head. bThe right side of your brain is where emotions lie and the left side is where speech, writing, and logic lie. By writing or talking about your feelings, you move the ideas to the logic side and can see things more clearly. Think about it.b

    bOkay, Mr. V.b She grins and goes to lunch.

    I thought Ibd heard it all.

    Turns out, she was full of shit. She knew all along it was a cyst.

    ~V

  • I didn’t WANT to see Blind Side, but I’m glad I did

    UPDATE: 4 JUNE 2021 Yeesh. This post is full of some oblivious white-savior-complex garbage, but I’m leaving it live on my page. It’s important that I don’t erase my ignorance just because I’m now more aware of the intersection between race, power, and education. Hopefully, all of my posts age poorly as I keep improving and doing a better job.

    The Blind Side, in case you’re overseas, don’t own a TV, or are my grandparents, is the latest heartstring-pulling blockbuster starring Sandra Bullock and Tim McGraw as the two wealthy white parents who take in a black kid from the projects and help him turn his life around. My initial thought was similar to yours: I’d much rather see James Cameron blow stuff up and cool blue CG aliens than Sandra Bullock teach a poor kid to keep his elbows off the table and open his heart again. No, thanks.

    Luckily for Sandra, me, and this blog entry, I was already in line to buy popcorn before I realized that my family had decided to see Blind Side instead of Avatar. Disappointing, but hey, I still get popcorn. (I could live on just movie popcorn for the rest of my days, which, as my sister pointed out, would likely be less than a month.)

    After a few mouthfuls of fluffy cancer, I was satisfied, and I decided to put aside my previous views of the film, resolved to watch it unbiased-ly…. unbi…. in an unbiased manner. My previous opinions of the film were rooted in an article in, among others, Time magazine (which I get on my Blackberry, score one for trees). An article said something to effect of “Blind Side is a heart-wrenching tale for aging Southern Belles about how a white family can save a black boy, if only given the chance.” After seeing the movie, I disagree,and here’s why:

    Blind Side was about a wealthy family lifting a poor boy out of his surroundings, and race had very little to do with it. The kids in the family all were accepting and even encouraging. In my favorite scene, the football coach is trying to get the admissions team to bring Michael into the private Christian school. His empassioned diatribe sounds something like this (in a Southern accent):

    “Are we a Christian school or not? Cuz if we are, then we need to admit this boy, because Christians are about second chances and extending grace.”

    I hooted in the middle of the theatre after that one.

              And the TRUUUUUTH shall setcha free!          Glory hallelujah!

    Truthfully, the “Michael is a misfit” jokes came more at the expense of his 250-lb 6’5″ frame than of his race, although in one scene, the family gets a phone call from a relative asking “did you know that there’s a colored boy in your Christmas photo?”

    The writers and Sandra do an excellent job of confronting common misconceptions about both the low-income demographic and the black demographic. Leigh Anne (Sandra Bullock) has a lunch bunch with a few other trophy wives, one of which asks “don’t you worry, leaving your daughter alone in the house with him?” To which, Leigh Anne replies simply, “Shame on you.”

    I was on the edge of my seat as Michael wandered back into his old apartment complex and into the den of a drug dealer, dealing out swift justice as he defends his new family. I cheered as the mouthy cornerback from the rival team gets blocked over a fence. I laughed as the 9-year-old son barked out Michael’s workout schedule.

    “Five 100-yard sprints… MOVE!”

    Further, I resonate as a teacher seeing that one of my students has special needs and I want to give… something. Like Michael’s Biology teacher, I’ve also given verbal tests to students who can’t write well. I’ve also bumped up the grades of students who are trying hard and improving. I’ve also made sure that students have clothes and food.

    I want to “save” students in my class that are family-less, and until now, those desires have been postponed. Blind Side poked that part of me with a stick and I heard Leigh Anne bark at me “He is part of my family”. Not only did I resonate with the sentiment of the movie, but I felt it encourage me to become a better Christian, and there aren’t many films that do that.

    I love movies with personal growth and justice, and Blind Side has both. See it.

    ~V

  • Why work hard if you can’t keep your job?

    It is not a good time to be a beginning teacher.

    Historically, the first people to get laid off are the part-time, substitute, and intern teachers. The term “intern” essentially means “contracted while we feel like it”. At any point the intern teacher can be served with a March 15 letter with the phrase “services no longer needed” buried into a lot of legal fluff.

    The term “March 15 letter” refers to the deadline given by California Education Code; it’s the last possible date to let a teacher now that they must begin looking for a job. Every year, around April, dozens of recently polished resumes and recommendations flood recruiting websites like edjoin.org in an effort for new teachers to find the next “intern” position. Eventually, the intern earns enough clout to earn “tenure” which guarantees them a spot for the next year.

    At least… that’s how it usually is.

    A school that doesn’t have a union is a rarity in Southern California. Here, the powerhouse Union negotiators have lawyers and press agents on speed dial, ready to pounce on administrators the moment they start to show shady behavior.

    Many charter schools are union-free, largely because of the odd curriculum and regular teacher turnover. It is not uncommon for some charter schools to see 30% turnover every year. The teachers at one such union-free school, unfortunately, have no advocate.

    So when several teachers are laid off in late July, they are, as the French say, le screwed.

    The reason the March 15 deadline exists is to allow veteran teachers a fighting chance to get the most desirable positions. Several veteran teachers (in a school without tenure) were recently canned largely, it is believed, due to the high cost of their salary.

    Why keep a $70,000 English teacher when you can get a fresh one for $45,000?

    With a never-ending supply of fresh, inexperienced teachers, this pattern can be continued indefinitely, constantly removing teachers from the posts when they begin to be excellent and raise student test scores.

    The school is saved from the budget crunch.

    Hurrah.