Tuesday, April 4, 2017

Spring Break

For most of our marriage, Tyson and I have not worked in the same school district.  When we did, and our breaks lined up it was magical, and we were able to go on some pretty amazing adventures (Campbell River on Vancouver Island, Indiana Dunes, and Green Bay).  But for the vast majority, we have never had spring break at the same time (oh for Oregon and the ENTIRE STATE having spring break the third or last week of March *together*....)

So two years ago, I decided since he was full time for the Army and we were paying for daycare anyway, I would go hiking by myself.  The first time, I went with my friend Karla, and we headed to Silver Star Mountain in the Gifford Pinchot National Forest.  Springtime hiking is always a crapshoot when you want to hike anywhere above 2000 feet elevation, you are bound to run into snow even when the weather is clear.  On Silver Star, we ran into snowfall about two miles in.  Too deep to see the trail, too much snow falling to see anything else.  So we turned around.  We think we were about half a mile from the "summit" but it was just too risky (and what's the point of hiking to a summit if you can't see anything?).  Two days later, I did Dog Mountain on the Washington side of the Columbia River Gorge.  No snow, but the wind was howling and when I got to the clearing less than half a mile from the top, the wind was so strong I got blown off the trail and decided to head back for cover under the trees to eat my lunch.  Too many clouds for a good view anyway.
When they say "less difficult" they don't mean "easy"

So last year, knowing that I may not get any further into a decent hike than I did before, I chose a hike that was well below the snow line, and the weather cooperated for a beautiful hike.  This time it worked out. 

But as I ate my lunch at the lakeshore, I heard a roar and was reminded of why extra caution must be exercised when you hike in the spring.....an avalanche occurred (safely on the other side of the water).  It was mesmerizing and a powerful reminder that I was not being too cautious when choosing all of my safety gear---making my pack a little on the heavy side---better to have it and not need it.

This year, I was skunked again, not by the weather, but by the Department of Natural Resources, who hadn't gotten around yet to clearing the road I needed open today.  The gate I parked at to the trail head is 7.2 miles.  Tyson and I have a rule about hiking alone...never stray from the plan unless it's to turn around and come home.  He's been skunked out of a couple overnight backpacking trips because of this rule, but you never want to change your plan of where to hike if you can't tell anyone else you're going to change it.  Because then if you DO get in trouble, no one knows where to look.  So I decided to walk down the road and see if I could even get TO the trailhead in the time that I had.  

If you've never paid attention while driving on one of these gravel trails the Forest Service and BLM/DNR call "roads" the scenery is not really all that exciting, usually.  They are designed to get to the destination with the least hassle, which is saying something when you're cutting switchbacks into a mountainside.  In any case, I got bored about 4.5 miles in, despite the magnificent waterfalls flowing over granite, and sweeping views of the mountains around Spada Lake.  Walking on a road vs. a trail is also very hard on the boots and feet, something I underestimated for the distance (ow).
Nevertheless, I plan on exploring Tiger Mountain sometime later this week, rain or no rain.  Despite all the difficulties this time of year, the scenery of this region is just too good to leave alone when I have time off work.


Friday, November 21, 2014

Insight from high school choir students.

So one of the things I like to do is give my students a philosophical assignment, question and answer on paper.  I love doing this because a) it gives me a window to what they're thinking, and then I can use that to improve their experience and our music making b) sometimes they blow my mind with either really hilarious thoughts or incredibly insightful things that I noticed but didn't realize THEY caught it, or when I didn't catch it but they did.

Anyway, I asked them the question "Why are you here? Why do we do this?" and "What do you need to do in preparation/need others to do before the concert?"  And while these answers are very VERY paraphrased, I think you will agree there is some great insight here.

Why are we here? Why do we do this?
 To get art credit
We love to sing
Learn how to sing
I want to get better
Grow as a group
Because Bri made me
Learn new songs
Express [my]self
To sound amazing!
Learn to read music
To perform
Because it’s fun
‘cause we’re awesome
To entertain and learn

 WHAT IS THE POINT?
To do what I like to do
To get better
Have fun and get to know people
Learn new things and styles
Because life is short, have a great time.
To be individuals, but work together
To better myself in fine arts
Have fun AND learn
MUSIC IS GREAT, WHY NOT?
Learn how not to get nervous
Learn music and make friends
Bonding with people
The point is unknown (ineffable)
We do it because we love it
Be able to work as a team

What do you need to do to prepare?  What do you need from others?

Pay attention to dynamics
Practice!
Sing out and sing accurately
Not be afraid
Pay attention to balance
Take a breath and CHILL
Warm up, drink water
Put forth best effort
Work on breath control
Communicate with each other
Work together
Not worry about being silly
Listen and match
Maturity
Confidence!
Consistency from everyone
Drink tea
Be unified
Relax
Remember it’s fun
Roll speed balls



Tuesday, August 12, 2014

No one to blame but ourselves.

While I have been on a leave of absence from teaching, I have had time to think a LOT about whether I wanted to go back to teaching at all, and if so or not, why? I've also had time to discover education from a parent's point of view, as Sam is starting kindergarten, along with many Facebook friends who are college professors, fellow parents, fellow k-12 teachers, homeschoolers, charter school supporters......  And while I was pulling weeds in my driveway this morning, I had an analogy pop up in my head that really defined a cognitive dissonance I've been struggling with since my first year teaching.

As a first year teacher, I knew I was effective.  I knew I was better than many of my music colleagues in the district, and that even with first year flaws I had nothing but improvement in front of me (and yes, I was full of myself).  I also did not see the purpose of a union, as I had a principal who stood up for us when he needed to, gave constructive criticism and redirection and was generally good to work for.  Then I was laid off.  And I had the crushing realization that it didn't matter how good I was, as long as I was at the bottom of the seniority list, I would always be the first to go.  I began to resent the union dues that were deducted from my paycheck, because what good did they do me? I lost my job anyway!  I didn't learn the value of the union until my husband's district decided to punish him for "choosing to join the Army" (an administrator actually said that out loud to me).  And then I realized that the definition of "bad teacher" is one of the most subjective terms we use in any conversation about education.

A crack in the pavement.

You see, public education is NOT broken.  When you consider the vast amounts of children that are educated within this system, and the lack of infrastructure and social safety net to assist, we do very well.  People will talk about how we don't test well compared to Singapore, or Japan, or England or [enter country name here].  The fact is, even in "the good old days" of [whenever *you* went to school] we have NEVER tested well compared to those countries.  Because our culture and way of educating is not easy to quantify.  We value creativity and innovation.  We educate in a way that reinforces those values.  We developed things that the world cannot function without, and the vast majority were educated in the public system.  That's a huge accomplishment and something to be proud of.

But there are cracks in the pavement, cracks where weeds have been allowed to grow.  And it is our own fault as a profession that we have allowed them to grow.  The cracks in the pavement are that *one* teacher you know, statistically insignificant, who really should have retired five years ago.  The college student that should never have been allowed to graduate with an education degree but the department needed the money.  Bad attitudes in faculty, principals that bully, low morale. Teachers who started out well but didn't get the support they should have and then floundered or quit.

Whether those people needed to be fired (the reformers position), or given direction and help (the union's position) doesn't matter.   Because it doesn't matter if they were good teachers at one time, or if they never were.  They are the cracks in the pavement.  While I was digging the weeds out, I noticed that the vast majority of my driveway was still looking decent.  There weren't that many weeds in the cracks, just a few.  But where I had not pulled the weeds right away, they had gotten huge and started spreading over the good pavement.  Yes, I could put poison on the weeds (removing the reformers and NCLB) or just keep on pulling them (futile as long as the cracks are there and the reformers are spreading fertilizer/fear on them), but what would be REALLY silly is to dig up the entire driveway and re-pour it just to fix a few cracks.

But we cannot ignore the cracks anymore.  The weeds are starting to take over and spread the cracks apart that will eventually force us to dig up the driveway.  And the weeds are taking over because like an overworked mother, teachers are more worried about the children they have to take care of *right now* and the weeds can wait.  No longer.

Saturday, March 1, 2014

Jazz and Wynton Marsalis

One day, while teaching in Chicago (praying that one of my students would show up to class high, because he participated better when he did), my friend Heather called me and said that Marshall Field's (now Macy's) was sponsoring the Lincoln Center Jazz Orchestra over at the symphony hall.....FOR FREE and all we had to do was stand in line, did Tyson and I want to go? Of course, I said yes and we went with her and our other friend Krista, listened to it and had a great time.  We went downstairs to use the restroom, and one of the ushers says "hey you guys wanna go backstage?"

(well DUH)

So we got to meet Wynton and the band, and while Krista, Tyson, and I were totally geeking out and being awkward, Heather walks right up to him like she owned the place and shakes his hand saying "I think you're brilliant, and you should come have a drink with us at the Green Mill [a jazz club in the north part of town]."  He says he'll talk to the guys and maybe that sounds like fun.  We walk away and get a cab, chattering about how cool he was and YEAH RIGHT he's not coming up there, but we can go hear some more music anyway.  Told the bouncer what happened, and he sat us right next to the entrance in a giant booth AND HE CAME IN AND SAT WITH US.  Had tea, and sat in between Heather and Krista ("best seat right between two attractive ladies") and talked with me and Tyson about teaching music in the inner city, and the issues we were having with African American kids from the projects not being all that receptive, despite our successes with the same demographic in Seattle.

Fast forward almost ten years, and we go see the LCJO again in Portland.  With a lot more musical and life maturity behind us, and a different philosophical view of the purpose of music.

All the way through the performance, I thought two things: "Why am I not having an emotional response?" and "wow they are REALLY GOOD.  That's how that's supposed to sound." It felt a lot like being at a symphony concert.  For the most part, I marveled at the individual skill of the players, the polish of the ensemble playing, but in my head I heard Wynton's voice from the first episode of Ken Burns' Jazz documentary "I can walk into a club and say 'hey let's play a blues' and we can have a conversation." After I thought about that, I couldn't get out of my head the idea that it felt wrong to be listening to jazz in a place a) without a dance floor b) with stuffy, snobby audience behavior, although it wasn't as stuffy as a symphony concert, there was definitely very little interaction with the performers until the very last piece, when they FINALLY did a song that non-jazz-scholars would recognize.  It bothered me.  How did jazz go from being nightclub music to symphony halls and conservatories?  Is it contributing to the general public feeling like jazz is "inaccessible" if they aren't educated about it?  How sad, if that's true.

However, if there's anything that can be said about Wynton Marsalis, it's that he is a tireless advocate for music and music education. Tyson pointed out that it's entirely possible the program was set up to "educate the audience," avoiding the well-known hits, and introducing us to pieces we likely hadn't heard before.  That's all fine and good, and having it in a symphony hall definitely allows more people to see a group that is this amazing than if they had played in a little club or dance hall.  But overall, I just couldn't shake the feeling that it was less of a "conversation" and more of a "lecture."  Too bad Heather wasn't there to find out what club they were going to play at later that night.

Saturday, May 18, 2013

Judgy, judgy!!

So I want to post about something that is possibly a touchy subject but has been bothering me for a while, mostly because I think a few people have misinterpreted my feelings on this.

I breastfeed my kids.  Sam until he was 18 months old, and Noelle for almost 12 months so far.  And I'm proud of that.  It was difficult to start, I hated (HATE) pumping, and frankly, a lot of "you're not going to be one of THOSE moms who nurses until the kid is 4, right?" questions, as if there's something wrong with that....

But here's where I'm having trouble today and this is the part I need you all to understand:  My being proud of something I worked hard at is not a judgment on you.  If you use formula, I have no problem with you.  I'm not looking down my nose at you.  I know you're doing the best job parenting you can.  Our society is not BF friendly.  It's just not.  And if you have neither the time or support to overcome those obstacles, even if you're motivated, it can be damn near impossible to establish and maintain a supply.  And if your family/husband/friends thinks it's weird, that is an obstacle, however minor, however misguided they are.  I didn't realize until Sam was weaned how lucky I was to have the support I did in every aspect from the hospital staff (yes, that matters) to our pediatrician, to nutritionally-minded family, co-workers, and husband who were willing to not only support but fight for it with me.  Yes, that matters.

Breastmilk is best, that's a fact.  Notice I didn't say formula is poison, or doesn't serve an important role.  I can't make you feel anything you don't want to feel.  If my efforts to help educate and change society's obstacles make you feel guilty, attacking me is not going to resolve it.  Being snarky on my Facebook page will not "teach me a lesson." You have to make peace with yourself and know you did the best you could with the information and tools you had available to you.

I do, however, judge medical professionals who allow the insidious way formula companies peddle their products in hospitals.  Medical professionals who give advice based on old wives tales instead of research.  Or refuse to set their own ego or laziness aside and call a lactation consultant.  They passively undermine and sabotage women who WANT to breastfeed and formula companies encourage this because it's the only way to expand the customer base.  Yes, this really happens, yes, it affects supply, and then, magically, the mother is "not making enough" and ta-da!! Nestle's stock price just went up! There's a reason formula advertising is banned internationally, and just like many other corporations, are not regulated or enforced here in the United States of We Worship The Almighty Dollar.

Notice my rant had nothing to do with mothers (or fathers)?? Notice the judgment is on the CEOs who put their bank account before your child's health (or, more pointedly, the health of children in countries that lack clean water)?? Judgment on pediatricians whose knowledge base is often sorely lacking (then they wonder why parents always second guess them.  Hello, baby feeding should be more than a one day seminar in med school).  The only other thing I have ever seen so many people take criticism so personally is singing.  And that's because when you aren't successful, for whatever reason, it feels like something is wrong with you, even though it's not. 

How many people do you know that say "I can't sing" or "I'm not a good singer"?  Those of us who are musicians know that almost everyone is capable of singing, but some people have to work harder at it than others to be successful. And if you have a voice teacher who screwed up your technique or a choir teacher who said "yeah, just don't sing this part" (and those people should be slapped), or went to a school that didn't have music at all, or parents who never sang in front of you?  Yeah, singing is going to be harder for you.  And it feels personal, but it's not.  And it doesn't mean you aren't (or weren't) ever capable.  Just like breastfeeding, singing is a learned behavior, and it takes time, opportunity, and education to learn it.  And you thought it was "natural." HA!  And if there was a way to make money from preventing people from singing, you can bet the farm all of sudden there would be criticism "why are you singing in public?" "yeah that singing stuff isn't for me" and someone would be investing millions in opera companies and recording because there's no need for *everyone* to sing....hey....I just had a business idea.....oh wait....it's been done.....some damn show run by Simon Cowell....

If I judged everyone I know who used formula at one time or another, I would have basically no friends at all (including my mother).  Some of my breastfeeding heroes are moms who in the end had to use formula. Ladies like my sister in law, who was working, going to school, and a mommy.  How she persisted and made it to nine months is amazing to me!  Two friends, one whose supply dropped when pumping, and another with a fertility problem that also caused supply issues both fought for at least a year, pumping, taking herbs, and yes, supplementing with formula. Another couple of friends exclusively pumped for months on end and considering how much I HATE pumping, my hat is off to those ladies for their extreme effort.  I would probably have given up because, did I mention? I really really hate pumping.

But mostly, I want you (yes, you) to know if you used formula with your kids, when I post breastfeeding advocacy things on Facebook, it's not to make you feel bad or shame you. Breastfeeding takes a "village" to be successful. It takes support and help to be successful at.  Hospitals, unfortunately, are more often financially invested and not always very reliable with accurate breasfeeding information, which means those of us who have been successful have a responsibility to share those strategies with people who want it.  Even if you've made your informed choice, that doesn't mean everyone else magically knows what you do. And if you don't want the info, well, feel free to ignore those posts or unfriend me. 

But please, PLEASE, quit assuming that I'm judging your parenting.

Thursday, September 13, 2012

Why I support CTU

Chicago.  Man, I loved living there.  The architecture, the lake, four real distinct seasons, the Cubs, evening summer concerts where you don't need a coat...I really loved being out there.  But let me tell you about why we moved back.  Teaching there SUCKED.  And amidst all the ignorance being flouted about on the internet about the current teachers' strike, I'd like to offer you a narrative through which you might understand these events better.

When Tyson and I moved out there, we didn't have jobs.  Around November, I landed a job teaching elementary music in a near South side district.  Tyson was cashiering at the grocery store down the street from our apartment and hosting at a restaurant.

Enter Dr. John Gelsemino, a "head hunter" (recruiter) a retired band director, who was paid by principals of CPS to find people like us to work in their buildings.  Over a lasagna dinner at a restaurant in Cicero (you can't make this stuff up), he "interviewed" us about our experience and bragged about how wonderful his band was when he was teaching.  He got Tyson a job immediately in a West side school whose principal was a big deal in the Greek community (that guy got us a trumpet gig for Good Friday at an Orthodox church, a story I will save for a later post).  Tyson's job for the remainder of  that year was "building sub."  Subs at that time were not required to have a teacher's certificate, and so you had all sorts of people "teaching" and the principals had come to the conclusion that it was safer for the kids to have a permanent class-coverage person than to call the sub center.  (Prior to finding my elementary job, I had done a couple sub jobs that were horrific...also too long to post here) Tyson was supposed to work as a sub, then during his prep time, go get the band room ready for the following year.  I was promised a job at a high school not far from our apartment.

Here, I need to interject a tidbit of how teacher pay worked in Illinois then (and I don't believe it has changed).  Oregon used to have this system, where school funds are directly related to local property taxes.   What happens is that high income areas end up with LOTS of money for their schools, fully funded athletics and arts, beautiful newer and updated buildings, and adequate to decent teacher pay and benefits. And smaller, working town or poverty riddled areas have terrible pay, no money for books, building maintenance, etc. This is how amazing schools like New Trier High School and terrible crumbling buildings can exist in the same state.  You want to know why kids aren't educated equally?  We can't even get the BUILDINGS to look equal.  That first year, I made around $27K in that little district, and Tyson made around $32K, but neither of us was paid in the summer.  The following school year we were both contracted music teachers for Chicago Public Schools.  We were both making around $40K (no masters degrees at that point).

Sidenote: One troll on a news website said something about teachers getting 4 months off.  I'd love to know where he got that number because the year Sam was born was the first year I had a summer off and it sure as hell was not 4 months....

Second year here is a rundown of the issues at MY job (listing both mine AND Tyson's experiences would be too much for one post).  And keep in mind I worked at one of the schools that was considered "decent":

1) In August, when we started, my room was over 90 degrees plus humidity.  No A/C, and no windows that opened.  I did have an emergency exit door that led outside, and I put a fan in the open door just to circulate air.  I was later reprimanded for that because "leaving the door open can let the rats in."  I later found a dead mouse in one of my storage closets.

2) Every teacher was sharing a classroom.  Because I was teaching music, I was lucky to only be in one room, but two other teachers used my room during my lunch and prep.  Some teachers were assigned as many as three different places to teach.  One guy taught math on the auditorium stage, and a special ed teacher had the atrium between the gym and main building.

3) We had an 11-period staggered start schedule.  So seniors had period 1-8, with 4th period lunch, juniors 2-9, 5th period lunch, etc etc. Unless you were in sports.  All athletes were assigned the 1-8 schedule so it wouldn't interfere with practice.  11th period ended at 5 pm.  So if you were a teacher with the 4-11 schedule, the parking lot is full, and kids regularly skipped your last two classes.

4) Our principal told us flat out that "if more than 30% of your students are failing, you're doing something wrong" and corrective action would be taken (reprimand of the teacher in their file).  Remember that 10th and 11th period truancy issue?  If more than 30% of your kids were skipping class, the remaining 70% HAD to at least get a D, even if they slept through it, or never did any work.  By the way, this is how students graduate high school not knowing how to read.  It isn't the classroom teachers.

5) 2500 high schoolers in a building designed for 1200 middle schoolers.  "Students" (gang bangers) enrolled only because they could deal drugs in the periods where everyone was in the building (4-8) and it was too crowded to monitor the hallways. Federal law requires schools to allow anyone under 21 to enroll, so we had to allow them to register and be in the building.  When I think back to the chaos of those crowded hallways, I thank God there was never a fire.  For those of you who think vouchers will solve all our bad school problems, the reason we had so many kids enrolled is because each kid came with x amount of dollars from the district, and we were a "safer" building than most.  When only one school is acceptable, schools either get overcrowded like this, or all the "good" kids end up concentrated in one place.  What do you think happens to everyone else?

6) I don't know if this was an Illinois, CPS, or federal rule, but any student with an IEP or 504 plan could not be expelled.  If they brought a gun to school, the most you could do was a 2-week suspension.  Dealing crack? 2-week suspension.  And the district kept track of who did "the most suspensions" (thank you Arne Duncan).

7) Report cards were never mailed home (too many homeless and transient students), so we had "report card pickup night" something I'd never heard of out here in Oregon or Washington.  Parents supposedly came to get the report card at an evening event that also doubled as conference time.  Because the teachers were working in the evening, there would be no classes in the morning, and the conference time would count as contract time for that day.  All probationary or first year teachers were "asked" to proctor the practice ACT that same morning, so if you were a first year teacher, you worked a 12 hour day with no break, and no pay for half of it. It was assumed that if you didn't fo it, your contract would not be renewed.  (I filed a grievance for this particular incident and was denied because I accepted the "compensation" a $5 gift card to Borders in a thank you note)

8) If you took a field trip, you had to take a sick day, or bribe your colleagues to cover for you, with no pay.

9)The four people in the music department had one computer and one phone to share between us.  The computer did not have internet access, and there was only one voicemail box to share.  The phone was in my office, so I got the fun job of taking messages for everyone.  To access email or enter grades, we had to use the student computer lab, and it would take several days because the server was so slow you couldn't get it done in one prep period.

10) I was only allowed to do 2 concerts a year, and no students were allowed to perform at graduation. They didn't want me to teach to the best of my abilities, they wanted someone to churn kids through the 1 year arts graduation requirement.

11) In our contract was a clause that "if a student attacks a teacher, the teacher may defend themself by any means necessary."  How regular would the violence have to be for that kind of language to be included?

Now that I've told you all that, here's the context.  That was in 2004-2005.  The economy was still good.  NCLB was in effect, but the "failing schools" and "reforms" hadn't really kicked in yet.  For those of you who are teachers out West, think about how far our system has fallen in the last seven years.  What I described occurred during the good years.  Now put that in context with "merit pay" for student test scores. 

This strike isn't all about teacher pay (and I keep wondering where the media gets the $76K figure...are administrators with teacher licenses included in that average?  Because THEY make well over 100K a year)--although that is part of it, since they haven't had a cost of living increase in five years.  And the main arguments I see against the teachers are these:

a) "Teachers make 75,000 a year and get three months off!"  See above for my rebuttal to that.  I have never made even close to that, not even after I had my masters degree (which I had to get over the summers....summers off?  Please.  Summers are when I caught up on all the stuff I didn't have time for during the year.  Like inventory and curriculum planning).  That salary average is being skewed somehow.  And June 24th to August 15th is not three months.  It's about 7 weeks.  If you add that to spring and winter breaks you get just over two months.  And we don't get paid for those.

b) "They're just whining about tests because the bad teachers don't want to be held accountable."  See above for that, too.  A student disappears for three months and comes back just before the test and my pay and job security is supposed to be based on THAT?

c) "fire them all, the selfish bastards, and replace them with subject matter experts or recent college grads." This is like hiring a journeyman carpenter to come in after a flood and not only fix the rotted wood and drywall, but also could you fix the plumbing while you're at it and buy the materials yourself?  And if you don't, I'll get the freelance handyman down he street to do it, after all, he's not union so he'll cost less, and it doesn't really take any knowledge to do the job, hell, I could do it myself!!  You only need to watch Renovation Realities or Holmes on Homes to know what a bad idea this is.  Yet, we still have programs like Teach For America that basically say the art of teaching requires no skill or training.  And we put those poor schmucks into the worst of the worst urban schools.  It's "hiring the handyman for rehabbing post-Katrina homes."  Sure, they might succeed, but it's going to be a lot more hit and miss than someone who chose to be a professional in that field, and will cost a lot more money because of the inevitable high turnover rate.  Show me any job where turnover is high and also has a high success rate.  I bet you won't find many, if any at all.  Doing something well takes time and effort. 

d) "If the union would quit protecting the bad teachers, I'd be more willing to support this."  This one really gets me.  I've worked in five districts, and I can only name two out of those hundreds of colleagues that I would label "bad" (and one of those was let go even though he'd been working for 6 years and was tenured). I've met a dozen lazy teachers and a handful of mediocre teachers all of whom still manage to do the job competently.  When pressed about this subject, I've found that the person making a statement like this has a particular teacher in mind, or went to school in the 60s and 70s before all the training requirements were in place.  Think.  If you go to school in the United States, you had about 36 teachers from K-12.  How many of those were really truly bad?  I don't mean the ones you had a personality conflict with, or the effective-but-not-memorable ones, or even the ones who taught a subject you didn't like.  I mean the ones who leave kids in the room while they watch soaps in their office.  The fact is, those teachers are few and far between, and the union does NOT protect them from being fired.  If they get away with it, it's because no one complained or said anything.  There is a process, and it is harder than "go clean out your cubicle" but it can be done. 

e) "Teachers shouldn't strike because the students need a place to learn.  This proves they don't care about the kids."  Translation: Teachers fighting for better physical conditions for your kid to learn in is not acceptable because you need the free day care, and since that's inconvenient for you, they should just roll over and take whatever abuse and pay cuts that legislators think is ok. 

Oh, and just for the record, Tyson was way more demoralized working for Vancouver than Chicago, because of how poorly teachers were treated by administrators.  Chew on that. 

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

First day of being a stay at home mom

I love fall.  I love the smell of the air as the weather and the leaves start to change.  It's still moderately warm and sunny, but crisp enough in the morning to enjoy a cup of coffee.  And it's not gloomy gray yet.  I love going to the pumpkin patch, fall harvest farmers market, Oktoberfest, football games, and it's full of great holidays and things to do.  I also love setting up my classroom, organizing folders and music...I know it's totally nerdy of me, but there's something about the cardboard boxes, neat stacks of paper, and freshly waxed floors that gets me all revved up and motivated for a new school year (it probably has something to do with the fact that the classroom will never look that clean again for nine months...).

This past year, my assignment was itinerant elementary music.  I liked that I actually had a group of kids for a whole year again (my previous assignment I taught a rotation of students, new group every six weeks), but I don't particularly enjoy teaching elementary music, and I REALLY don't like being itinerant.  It's by far the hardest assignment I've had, and I've taught inner city high school choir.  Crack dealers and kids on parole.  This job sucked more than that, and here's why: You have no home base.  That support system of being part of a team, secretaries that know your name, a principal who goes to bat for you?  None of that exists.  You're lucky if any of your colleagues know YOU exist.  And it's hard on your car.  At one of my buildings (I was at five), it was April before the secretary stopped asking for my ID because she didn't know who I was.  At another building, the teacher never walked the kids to the door, she stood at the corner of the hallway and watched them come in.  I don't think she knew my name. Yet another building, the same group of teachers kept asking me who I was subbing for that day.  The only thing that made it tolerable was that I was part time, so I didn't work Wednesdays at all (a quirk of my schedule that I was assured would never happen again), and the full time music teachers at each building were incredibly supportive and helpful. 

So this year, with no hope of getting a secondary assignment band OR choir, plus the expense of two kids in daycare and the prospect of having to pump and store breast milk in my car every day, Tyson and I did some math and figured that our net loss of income would only be around $200 a month if I stayed home (which honestly, we probably would have spent on maintenance and repairs to the cars with all the wear and tear of my commute).  Then I got a call from Trinity and was offered one of the staff singer positions, which would make up the difference.  The choice was really clear, I should stay at home.  Better for the kids, easier on me, easier on our vehicles, less scheduling problems, don't have to schedule family time around school holidays....it's a no-brainer.  I now have time to do stuff like harvest the grapes in our yard and learn how to make wine, make stuff like Halloween costumes, do fun activities with Sam like gymnastics and swimming lessons, and finally research and write an article that has been roiling around in my head for two years....the possibilities are endless. 

But in the back of my head I keep wondering if I have just sacrificed my career.  Not that it was going anywhere in Evergreen anyway.  I can tell that I have no hope of getting a secondary assignment in this district. I wonder if any principal or other administrator will respect the choice that I've made, or will I have to start from scratch to get the job I want?  I have very little interest in a career teaching elementary music.  Philosophically, I understand the importance of elementary music, and the importance of doing it well.  And I have a great deal of respect for those among us who thrive on making that happen.  I was lucky to work with some really great teachers this year, and that helped me get excited about what I was doing, but I know myself well enough to know I wouldn't be able to sustain my motivation for more than another year or two.  And changing jobs isn't really an option because our long term plan includes leaving Portland within the next three to five years.  So if we don't need the money, I get to be a stay at home mom for a few years, and just get a new job in whatever city we end up in next.  By that time, Noelle will be old enough for preschool, and Sam will be in kindergarten or 1st grade, so I can go back to work full time.

While I know that being a stay at home mom is by no means slacking (my mom stayed at home, and she worked constantly--I also know several very hard working full time moms who are my age), I've been on in a school routine for almost thirty years now.  So it feels like I'm slacking because I get to make my own schedule instead of following someone else's.  And while I contemplate that, I think it might be time to change a poopy diaper.  And read my son a book.  And think about what meals I will be making tomorrow.  And fold laundry.  And go to the park.  And work on Halloween costumes.  And make art projects.  And squish grapes for wine.