Sadly, the bursting forth of buds, the twitter of returning birds, and the lengthening of days has also ushered in a rush of testosterone and a complete lack of civility. If it's spring, let the fighting begin.
In the last 10 years, I can honestly say that spring brings us two to four large scale fights, that when one is in the middle of it, feels like a riot. By large scale, I mean more than 10 kids fighting with the rest of the stupid student body crowding around cheering on the mayhem. In a school like mine, these fights almost always break along racial/ethnic lines. Probably for the last nine years, the African-American students and the Arabic students have been the main combatants. When questioned, of course nobody can explain why these two groups have such an intense springtime hatred of one another. All I know is that it will lead to everyone being in a shitty mood and a jail-like atmosphere being imposed on the student body as a whole.
On Friday, the first big fight broke out, but I have no idea when or where. Of course, ultimately, the situation can be traced back to a bad decision by an administrator. The senior class apparently still needs to raise money for its prom and thus requested a dodgeball tournament. By the way, according to the assistant principal, dodgeball is banned from schools in the state of Michigan. The principal approved it anyway. Tickets would be sold for two or three bucks and the tournament would be held during second and third hour. Yes, you read that correctly, students could pay a couple of buck and miss two classes. What a bargain!!! That's another pet peeve of mine, but an entirely different conversation. The kiddies went over to the building that contains the gym (it is a separate building) and surprise, surprise, there were a number of outsiders, drop-outs, and garden variety thugs hanging around. It is my understanding that some of those darlings sneaked into the event. This is where the details get a little hazy for me. At some point, a melee broke out in the bleachers and some students tumbled down the bleachers while others ran for the doors. The fight spilled outside and then into the parking lot. At this point, we have a riot on our hands. Some kids are beating the shit out of each other, while others are running around without their shirts - whooping and hollering. I was with my class, the only nine that hour who had not bought tickets. We witnessed the arrival of two ambulances and a number of cop cars and heard the announcement that were on lockdown. My student teacher took a walk to see what was up and he said it was a mess. I then wandered to the office where I saw one boy who has never been in a lick of trouble holding an ice pack to his head. He had a giant welt in the middle of his forehead because someone thought to try and drive his head through the ground. Apparently he had been jumped one other time out on the streets.
The students from the dodgeball tournament were ushered into the auditorium where our prinicpal told them that he wasn't going to suspend anybody!!!! By this time, the lunch hour had come around, the bells were turned off, and cops were all over the building (eight by my count). My student teacher and I stood outside the lunchroom ushering kids to the right spots, making sure there was no lingering. Sadly, the police were no help.
I know that a cop's job is tough and dangerous, but sometimes they simply make a situation worse. I asked one boy where he was going and he didn't respond. I teach high school, so I'm quite used to being ignored. Well, a cop grabbed the kid by his shirt and brought him to me. I asked him for his teacher's name and in very broken English told me the name of an ESL teacher. I told him to hurry to class and then I told one of the officers that the student didn't speak English. the cop chuckled and said, "Well, he will today." Idiot.
The rest of the day was tense and calm. Unfortunately, 13 years of experience tell me that we are not over the hump. Hell, we might not even be able to see the top of the hump at the moment. All I know was that today was a peaceful day and for that I am grateful.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Testing Day 1
"Do not look back in your answer document. Do not look at the test that follows. Do no smile (this is serious business). Do not question authority. Do not think, just color in those little ovals like your very life depends on it."
Actually, my life depends on those bubbles, that isn't your problem.
Today, juniors across the state of Michigan participated in the first of three days of testing. The treat today was the ACT. The ACT consists of five timed tests: English (75 questions/45 minutes), Math (60 questions/60 minutes), Reading (40 questions/35 minutes), Science (40 questions/35 minutes), and Writing (one essay/30 minutes). Illinois and Kentucky also use the ACT as their statewide test.
The rules for the ACT are quite strict. Students are to be seated three feet apart from each other. No cell phones or other electronic devices (except calculators for the math). No reading material. No food or beverages. Here is my first issue. Water hydrates the body and mind. It can help keep you sharp and alert. I know that if I don't drink enough water in a day, I will feel more tired than usual. I do understand that a bottle of water can spill and cause a distraction. I also know that drinking water can greatly increase the urgency to use the bathroom (thus losing testing time). But testing conditions are no way realistic or conducive to optimal performance. If I am hungry or thirsty, those are the thoughts that will consume my mind.
The ACT nazis prevent me from disclosing any questions I may have seen on the test, including the essay. All I'll say is that it is a long day. The students in my room seemed to be taking the test quite seriously and were really trying to answer all the questions. Unfortunately, on all of the multiple choice tests, it seems that of the 20 students in the room, only nine or ten actually finished. From walking around the room, it seems that the majority of the students filled in one bubble spot once the five minute warning was given. By that, I mean that students were told (and told and told) in advance that if they are unable to finish all the questions, color in either the second or third oval. Sadly, it seems that the students in my room filled in the first bubble, so our chances for good scores are pretty remote for many of my students.
Tomorrow's test, WorkKeys. This is also created by the ACT people, but is simpler and an employment skills test. It will slos be s shorter day.
Actually, my life depends on those bubbles, that isn't your problem.
Today, juniors across the state of Michigan participated in the first of three days of testing. The treat today was the ACT. The ACT consists of five timed tests: English (75 questions/45 minutes), Math (60 questions/60 minutes), Reading (40 questions/35 minutes), Science (40 questions/35 minutes), and Writing (one essay/30 minutes). Illinois and Kentucky also use the ACT as their statewide test.
The rules for the ACT are quite strict. Students are to be seated three feet apart from each other. No cell phones or other electronic devices (except calculators for the math). No reading material. No food or beverages. Here is my first issue. Water hydrates the body and mind. It can help keep you sharp and alert. I know that if I don't drink enough water in a day, I will feel more tired than usual. I do understand that a bottle of water can spill and cause a distraction. I also know that drinking water can greatly increase the urgency to use the bathroom (thus losing testing time). But testing conditions are no way realistic or conducive to optimal performance. If I am hungry or thirsty, those are the thoughts that will consume my mind.
The ACT nazis prevent me from disclosing any questions I may have seen on the test, including the essay. All I'll say is that it is a long day. The students in my room seemed to be taking the test quite seriously and were really trying to answer all the questions. Unfortunately, on all of the multiple choice tests, it seems that of the 20 students in the room, only nine or ten actually finished. From walking around the room, it seems that the majority of the students filled in one bubble spot once the five minute warning was given. By that, I mean that students were told (and told and told) in advance that if they are unable to finish all the questions, color in either the second or third oval. Sadly, it seems that the students in my room filled in the first bubble, so our chances for good scores are pretty remote for many of my students.
Tomorrow's test, WorkKeys. This is also created by the ACT people, but is simpler and an employment skills test. It will slos be s shorter day.
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Test anxiety
On March 9,10, and 11, all the juniors in the state of Michigan will take a battery of tests. The first test they take will be the ACT, which is essentially a college entrance exam. The second day's test will be comprised of WorkKeys, which is an employment skills test, and the last day is the Michigan MME. Some secret formula of these three tests will determine if a school achieves something called Adequate Yearly Progress (AYP). That means a school has met the numerical benchmarks set by the federal law No Child Left Behind (NCLB). Test scores, graduation rates, and test day attendance all determine if a school makes AYP. If a school goes six years without making the numbers, all members of the teaching and administrative staff can be fired and the school can than be turned over to a private (and in Michigan, this means for-profit) management firm to run a charter school. My school is at this stage.
I will fill in the numbers and statistics later in the week, but at this moment, my level of anxiety is through the roof. There has not been a day this week that I have not cried. I can't sleep and if it's not junk food, my appetite has been non existent. I don't know what I would do if I lost my job. To be honest, my district is, from top to bottom, completely dysfunctional. In my 13 years, I have had seven superintendents, four principals, and five assistant principals. I have not been observed since 1999. At this point in my career, I have no clue if I am the least bit competent at my job. My ego says I'm doing a decent job, but my ego is a pathological liar. When I started teaching American Literature 10 years ago, there were no copies of either The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn or The Grapes of Wrath in the school. I don't know what the hell students were reading. I went to every used bookstore in Metro Detroit and bought every copy I could. On one hand, I know that my culturally disparate students have probably benefited from reading those books and having a common American cultural touchstone with other American students, but have I done those works of art justice? I don't know.
We won't know if our school moves from failing to passing until July. Every pressing decision in my life is on hold, causing more anxiety. I try not to discuss it at work because we are all feeling the load on our shoulders. Even the agnostics and atheists (a party of at least one) on staff are probably saying silent prayers. If I don't discuss it at work, I don't discuss it at all. My isolation in a foreign land has become a locked closet. I know this is yet another issue to handle, but at the moment, I can barely handle laundry and dishes on the same day.
The news of the firing of all the teachers at Central Falls High School in Rhode Island has not helped. There is much that we in Hamtramck have in common with Central Falls. High rate of poverty, a large population of non-English speakers, and a transient population are just a few of the issues we share. More on that later this week.
In the meantime, I will spend the weekend reading many wonderful narrative written by the students in AP Literature and Composition. These will lift my spirits, at least until Moday.
I will fill in the numbers and statistics later in the week, but at this moment, my level of anxiety is through the roof. There has not been a day this week that I have not cried. I can't sleep and if it's not junk food, my appetite has been non existent. I don't know what I would do if I lost my job. To be honest, my district is, from top to bottom, completely dysfunctional. In my 13 years, I have had seven superintendents, four principals, and five assistant principals. I have not been observed since 1999. At this point in my career, I have no clue if I am the least bit competent at my job. My ego says I'm doing a decent job, but my ego is a pathological liar. When I started teaching American Literature 10 years ago, there were no copies of either The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn or The Grapes of Wrath in the school. I don't know what the hell students were reading. I went to every used bookstore in Metro Detroit and bought every copy I could. On one hand, I know that my culturally disparate students have probably benefited from reading those books and having a common American cultural touchstone with other American students, but have I done those works of art justice? I don't know.
We won't know if our school moves from failing to passing until July. Every pressing decision in my life is on hold, causing more anxiety. I try not to discuss it at work because we are all feeling the load on our shoulders. Even the agnostics and atheists (a party of at least one) on staff are probably saying silent prayers. If I don't discuss it at work, I don't discuss it at all. My isolation in a foreign land has become a locked closet. I know this is yet another issue to handle, but at the moment, I can barely handle laundry and dishes on the same day.
The news of the firing of all the teachers at Central Falls High School in Rhode Island has not helped. There is much that we in Hamtramck have in common with Central Falls. High rate of poverty, a large population of non-English speakers, and a transient population are just a few of the issues we share. More on that later this week.
In the meantime, I will spend the weekend reading many wonderful narrative written by the students in AP Literature and Composition. These will lift my spirits, at least until Moday.
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