Section VI: Autumn 2003 – the last academic quarter
Chapter 59: The Beginning of the End
The First Day of School: the phrase is pregnant with possibilities. It speaks of second chances and fresh starts, anxiety about the new and joy at reuniting with the familiar. At Prospect, the first day of school in August 2003 starts inauspiciously. In fact things that day foreshadow what’s to come in this academic quarter.
On the first day of school, thirty minutes before the first bus arrives, I receive a phone call from Agnes, the secretary at Haven High, telling us to go into lockdown mode. While I go to find out what “lockdown mode” entails, a police helicopter repeatedly circles overhead, the rhythmic, thumping blades forcing all conversations to be SHOUTED to no avail. All our words, stolen by the chopper’s roar. Teachers begin to arrive reporting they saw police cars on every corner. RitaMae says she saw deputies with bloodhounds on 36th Avenue. Our very own Deputy (OVOD) arrives, (this year we no longer have the ever changing Deputy on Duty, but one Deputy assigned exclusively to our campus! I have Henry to thank him for this “gift.”). OVOD tells us the police were searching for an escaped prisoner from Hillsborough County described as 5’9”, 150 pounds wearing a black shirt and black underpants. I figure the weight, height and shirt color are pretty irrelevant if the guy is running around in his underwear.
While the minutes tick by counting down to the 9:00 arrival of our students, we are treated to a play-by-play of the police chase as we gather around OVOD and hear the transmissions from his walkie-talkie. Suspect in black boxers spotted running behind a church. Officers in pursuit. Running through backyards in Red Creek subdivision. One officer loses him, another has him in sight. Transmissions of breathless panting, then silence – we hold our breath. The radio crackles: the suspect has been apprehended! Cheers and relief. The lockdown is lifted and we don’t have to start our school year by detaining all the busses and bus drivers on campus and herding all the students into darkened classrooms in the cinderblock building.
The busses arrive and with them 75 students - well 74, since Boyd has head lice and must go home as soon as we can awaken his nocturnal mother. As the girls line up in front of their brand new all-girl classroom, one girl says she wants to go home complaining that her throat is sore. I somewhat sarcastically tell her to be brave and try not to swallow. The girls in line go crazy at this comment and I am bombarded with remarks such as: “Ms. Smee, how can you say that in front of our virgin ears.” And “I don’t swallow I spit.” Delightful girls.
Before the day is over, two violent, truant bothers (Iggy and Pedro) transfer back to public school against my better judgment mostly because I can’t effectively communicate with their non-english speaking parents. A bus driver reports to me that a child (Perry) was masturbating on the bus this morning and kissing himself at the same time. Before I can question Perry I learn he has run off-campus and is able to cover many miles before OVOD in his squad car can locate him. Another child (Ethan) has a wild tantrum and although OVOD handcuffs him, I’m relieved when he does not make an arrest. A new boy (Fenton) arrives with his mother who tearfully tells me her baby doesn’t belong with all these bad, black kids - he is here because he brought a gun to school but wait, she can explain. A new girl (Alexa) and her aunt want to talk to me, the aunt is Alexa’s guardian and they tell me Alexa was raped this year and is relieved we have an all-girl classroom since she is scared of boys. Alexa tells me “I can’t sleep now unless I have my feet touching someone safe and I think I might be gay now.” I have two irate parents in my office recycling last year’s complaints regarding their daughter (TobyBeth). A boy (Tyrell) who was told to stand by the tree, starts to “hump” the tree and is sent to class where he interrupts the placement testing by announcing he has an erection. In Orientation, one boy who is not new but was absent so often we put him in Orientation (Tiombe) , throws another boy who is new (Buster) over a desk, across the room and into a computer where the new boy gashes his head. Also in Orientation, a new elementary boy (Forrest) who was kicked out of a local charter school, defecates in his pants and his mother and grandmother come to yell at me and to blame Stone, who now runs Orientation, for not letting him use the bathroom. In the course of the discussion, they lecture me on different types of bowel movements and the relative immediacy of each. One counselor (Rusty) has to leave right away with a toothache but knows no dentist, I refer him to mine and the other counselor (Rosie) has to leave early too because of an issue at her daughter’s school. It is a long first day of school.
During the first quarter of my second year at Prospect here is what works very well: the Book Mobile, the employee handbooks I wrote and had printed over the summer and, joy of joys, the all-girls classroom. In fact all of these changes are so successful I kick myself for not implementing them sooner although I know the delay was not due to procrastination on my part.
The Book Mobile is just great. Once every other week this oversized mobile home pulls into our driveway filled with shelves of books. We insisted all our students apply for a library card before school started. Each class has 15-20 minutes to browse and check out books. As the students spill out of the Book Mobile they are eager to show me their selections. The friendly but firm librarian is willing to order books for teachers on upcoming subjects. I struggle to get the teachers to take advantage of this service.
Our morning meetings now begin with everyone opening their spanking bright red binders and reading or rereading various pages in our new handbook. Sometimes there is an issue or information not contained in the handbook we need to discuss, but mostly we focus on the same old stuff: use of walkie-talkies, walking in line protocol, teachers leaving before students etc.
As for the all-girls classroom, the girls love it, the boys hate it. One boy, Darnell, asks Rosie what would happen if a gay boy came to Prospect – would we assign him to the girl’s class? Rosie tells him no. Darnell is disappointed. He planned to tell Rosie he was gay so he could get reassigned!
Here is what does not work well: the elementary classroom and hiring my future daughter-in-law. Over the summer two of my best teachers, Jordan and Sam, asked to teach the elementary students. They both volunteered in the Public School’s elementary summer reading program and thus received extensive training in teaching reading to struggling readers. Sam’s wife is an elementary school teacher and she helped him set up his classroom. Our opening enrollment for the elementary students is low so Sam and Jordan decide to team-teach their class of six boys. My initial concern is that my middle school teachers will complain that it isn’t fair for them to have fifteen students while Jordan and Sam share half a dozen. No middle school teachers complain. Jordan and Sam complain, especially Sam. Their six boys are very difficult.
Eight-year-old Anfernee says he misses his mother in Virginia and he can’t phone her because it costs too much money but his grandfather says if he keeps misbehaving he’ll send him back to live with his mother so Anfernee asks Jordan and Sam to tell his grandfather how bad he is. Kareem interrupts to say that Anfernee is so poor his grandfather has to work at Winn Dixie to get the free food they throw out, which causes Anfernee to jump on Kareem and, in a flash, all six boys are fighting, throwing, running and screaming. This scene repeats, with slightly varying dialogue, every few minutes. The two to six teacher-student ratio is not enough. I arrange to have a behavior specialist from the public schools observe the class and give feedback. He writes two pages of recommendations but the bottom line is that Sam and Jordan are doing everything right, it is the kids who are wrong. Sam demands I transfer him to a middle school classroom. I do. Jordan redesigns the point cards for the elementary boys so they get a happy or sad face every fifteen minutes. It is a tough procedure to administer but when he can stay on top of it he has fewer riots. Even so, we never make it through a morning without two or more elementary boys removed from class.
When Hannah resigned the day before school opened, not only did I lose a valuable teacher, I lost my Title One teacher which meant my students would lose their extra reading classes and my teachers would lose their planning periods (I scheduled the Title One reading teacher work with every class twice a week, thus insuring some breaks for classroom teachers). In addition, my gifted readers are losing their daily gifted reading class, my lowest readers are losing their small group extra reading instruction and I am wasting my Title One funding by not having a teacher in place as per my approved grant plan. I feel frantic and desperate. I make phone calls to potential teachers but no luck. I think about who I know who can teach reading, who loves literature, who can cope with Prospect students. Then I think of my future daughter-in-law, Sarah.
In August 2003 Sarah, who like my son had recently graduated from Columbia University with a degree in English, was living at home in Maryland preparing for her October wedding. I knew she was very familiar with and loved children’s literature. And while at Columbia she tutored at-risk youths. I also knew, but tried not to think about the fact, that Sarah was a sweet, innocent, 21 year-old with no teaching experience and thus no classroom management skills. After I lost Hannah, I offered Sarah the job. She accepted and I made a decision that in retrospect, was one of my worst and would break my heart ten times over.
Sarah enjoys and is good at working with one or two children at a time, but when she works with half a dozen gifted or remedial kids or whole classrooms for enrichment reading, it doesn’t go well. The classes are loud, no one listens and there are fights. The counselors and OVOD are called to Sarah’s classroom nearly every time she has a class. We meet frequently to talk about strategies but after a month she gives me her two week notice and tells me she will not return after the wedding. I feel terrible, my choice was bad for the school, the staff, the students and for Sarah. But wait, it gets worse.
The day after Sarah gives me her notice, she is teaching Jana’s class when it is clear a fight is about to erupt. Sarah approaches the potential combatants but before she can get to them, two students grab Sarah to hold her back and thus permit the fight to take place. The two boys are brothers, new to Prospect this year but whose father is well-known: he is on trial for the murder of Selma’s brother. Sarah is unable to reach for her walkie-talkie as these brothers restrain her.
The brothers are arrested and charged with a felony attack on a teacher. My future daughter-in-law is in my office crying. In addition to my other errors in judgment, I have failed to protect my own family. I am wildly angry at the brothers and want to perform some bodily harm. They stare their apathetic, blank stares as they are stuffed into the back seat of the squad car. Mostly I am angry at myself. Really angry
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Monday, April 21, 2008
Chapter Fifty-Eight: There Must be 50 Ways to Leave
Chapter 58: There Must be 50 Ways to Leave….
Then suddenly it is late May and the school year is ending. Many of the students bring cards and gifts for their teachers and there are hugs and tears on the last days of school. But as the last bus pulls away there is also a feeling of relief. I think we worried that the year would end with an unforeseen disaster. It didn’t and we all seem to utter “phew” in unison.
Two days before the end of school Neeley had told me he had accepted a job as a reporter for a local newspaper and he started in a week. I was relieved and pleased for both of us: Neeley is not a good teacher. But I am not so pleased when Neeley goes to lunch on the last day of school and never returns. He isn’t around to input or even hand us his students’ grades, let alone to clean and inventory his classroom or to say goodbye. I try, unsuccessfully, to contact Neeley to get his grade book. Rita Mae, Neeley’s teammate is livid. She suggests she and PE teacher Billie, extrapolate Neeley’s grades from the grades they have for those same students in the classes they teach: PE & Health (Billie), and Social Studies & Math (RitaMae). We all know this is not the way it is supposed to be but my repeated attempts to phone and email Neeley are for naught.
Midge is leaving too. She has fallen back in love with a high school sweetheart who, over 30 years ago, her father forbade her to date because he was from the wrong side of the tracks. Given her recent hospitalizations, I think teaching at-risk children has put Midge’s health at risk and her decision to leave this job for romance is wise.
Theo, the former military man who teaches math, applied for a position in Herald County public schools. A principal calls me for a reference check and tells me he plans to hire Theo.
On a rainy morning in June, Billie arrives late, again. Clearly with our students gone there is less pressure to arrive on-time, but we still have our 8:00 a.m. meetings to plan our summer work days and Billie is consistently late. I know she has a long drive but I am frustrated by her frequent lateness. When she arrives, interrupting the morning meeting and with great fanfare but no acknowledgement of her tardiness, I suggest we talk after the meeting. I open the discussion saying we need to discuss her on-time arrival problem. Billie starts with her usual litany of excuses, the weather, the dog, her unemployed husband, her college bound son, she concludes with a pronouncement that she is not really late and she “knows” I manipulate the clock to make her look late. Wearily I begin to respond when Billie leaps from her seat, announces she quits, throws her keys at Lynne and departs. I am speechless and dumbfounded. Lynne, who overheard the whole discussion over the make-believe walls in our portable, is as mystified as I am. But I learned my lesson many months ago with Ernie: never beg a quitter to reconsider.
Even with all these teachers departing, my budget cannot support all the staff on my payroll. The nature of Prospect is that since the school year starts with fewer children, one must employ fewer teachers in August and hire only when more children arrive. Ebencorp’s HR department advises me to layoff the last hired: that would be The Mime. I don’t like telling anyone they are losing their job, even The Mime. A couple days after I give her the news, she tells me she has a new job teaching in Herald County public schools. I am surprised but relieved the principal didn’t call for a reference check. I would have struggled to discuss the strengths of The Mime.
Another principal hires Buffy to teach third graders who are repeating third grade, and he doesn’t call for a reference check on her either. I am relieved both that she is gone and that I didn’t have to lie to help her land a new job.
But to balance the budget I have to layoff even more people. I eliminate the position of cafeteria worker and orientation leader. I decide we can make do with teachers serving students the food since the food is packaged into individual servings and Shasta, my transportation coordinator can help oversee the program. I don’t want to do this, but I have to prioritize classroom teachers. Similarly I need the person who runs orientation to be a certified teacher so when the enrollment in the orientation class is low, I can redeploy the orientation leader in a classroom. Stephanie did not go to college and thus isn’t comfortable with or qualified to teach academics. Both Stephanie and Ruth are very upset and the layoff conversations are stressful. Stephanie tells me now she will have to move back in with her abusive husband since she is unemployed.
Goodbye Neeley, Midge, Theo, Billie, Mime, Buffy, Ruth and Stephanie.
I am frustrated by the Ebencorp policy for balancing the budget for Prospect Schools: eviscerate a coherent staff every summer and then rehire new teachers in the fall, winter and spring as the student population grows. This system may make for a tidy spreadsheet, but it isn’t good for my teachers, students or for me.
With Stephanie gone, I make Stone my Orientation leader and decide to make Orientation a combination of Orientation and re-orientation. The idea is that some children may need to go through orientation a second time. It would be a stretch to say Stone is pleased, he is never pleased, but he seems not terribly unhappy.
I continue to work at Prospect over the summer, supervising staff, developing behavior plans, curricula and a faculty handbook. The handbook has been my dream project all year. I’ve been saving my meeting agendas, staff memos and random notes to compile a definitive guide on everything including consistent grading practices, guidelines for Activity Period, line protocol, rules on bus arrival and walkie-talkie use. I meet with my mentor, Rex, to solicit his input. As I complete each section, I share it with my staff for feedback. They are atypically enthusiastic and ask why I didn’t publish it sooner! Writing the handbook gives me a real sense of accomplishment and I am excited about using it in the fall. I imagine our morning meetings guided not by yet another hastily prepared agenda, but by “turn to page 17 and let’s review the procedure for fire drills.”
The Boss informs me we must run a summer school program. Without money for busses I am pessimistic about enrollment. The Boss is not interested in my assessment. We advertise summer school. On the first day, three children come. We call it individual tutoring and teachers take turns working one-on-one with the students. These children only come a couple days a week for a couple weeks. Meanwhile the teachers work on lesson plans and complain about having to work all summer for a lower salary than their public school counterparts.
Corinna, the Title One woman, arrives bearing strange but very good news. We still have over a thousand dollars to spend and we must spend it fast. Can I spend it at Books-a-million and at Barnes & Noble? Absolutely, but time is running out, so hurry! The staff divides into two teams and we buy hundreds of books for all our classrooms.
The best part about the summer: Rita Mae’s enthusiasm as she prepares to teach an all-girl class in the fall. She reads books on the subject, paints the walls lavender, buys pillows and beanbag chairs for her classroom, decorates the walls with posters and makes up a bulletin board with photos and mementos of her life with plenty of room for her students to add theirs. I find her working late at night, sometimes with her adolescent daughter, sometimes with her Mother who is visiting from out of town. She takes the books aimed at girls who are reluctant readers, recently purchased with the Title One windfall, and arranges them in fabric lined baskets and displays them on top of cabinets. Her classroom is transformed into a cozy nook for “her girls.” Rita Mae’s energy and positive attitude are infectious. Soon we have a steady parade of teachers, staff and visitors checking out her room.
The most unnerving part of the summer: Billie’s Revenge. Apparently the day Billie resigned in anger, she expected me to chase after her and beg her to stay. When I didn’t she began a disturbing campaign. The first salvos were by email. Guessing I wouldn’t open email addressed from her, she went to on-line greeting card sites and sent me hate mail using RitaMae’s and Hannah’s return addresses. In some of the email cards she called me names, in others she threatened to get a gun and shoot me. Rita Mae and Hannah reported receiving similar emails. I forwarded a selection to The Boss and asked for help, support and advice from Ebencorp. When The Boss did nothing, Billie began the second phase of her revenge. She began calling people and describing me as unethical, evil and incompetent. She called the woman who administers one of our grants, she called school board members, she called Henry, my public school liaison, she called The Boss and his boss, Clyde. The School Board was due to vote on renewing our contract and now they were receiving these strange phone calls. The Boss finally took action. He launched an investigation – into my behavior to see if Billie’s claims were true. When I went to the School Board meeting the night of the vote, sitting across the aisle from me I found Billie and former Prospect counselor, Ernie. Blasts from the past. The Boss intended to attend but arrived late, after the meeting adjourned. Billie hissed that she was going to make a public statement about my incompetence, but she didn’t. In the meantime I felt rather like vomiting. The School Board renewed the contract. The Ebencorp investigation lasted all summer and despite my phone calls asking for results, I never heard their findings. The Boss and I never had a follow-up discussion after the worm tree talk. I try to ignore it all and move forward. It is easy enough to be fully engaged with my summer projects such as writing the faculty handbook, but like a case of poison oak, it’s hard to ignore the itching.
During the summer Dana, my wonderful Title One Reading teacher, phoned to say that with four children under age 12, she felt she couldn’t work full-time in the fall. She said if I started a night school to let her know. I wished her luck and offered Hannah, I’m-even-mean-to-my-cat, the Title One Reading position. She had expressed an interest and, with her degree in English, it looked like a good fit. Her enthusiasm about becoming the Reading teacher nearly matched that of all-girl teacher Rita Mae!
Then, the day before school was to open, Hannah quits. Months earlier Hannah told me a public school principal (the same one who hired Buffy) was trying to hire her, but after she was chosen to be the Title One Reading teacher for the fall, she was so excited she didn’t want to leave Prospect. The day before school opens Hannah tells me something different. She says that same principal phoned her and offered her more money and she couldn’t say no. Sorry, thanks, bye. Déjà vu all over again, my memories of teachers quitting right before opening day 2002 come rushing back.
I am starting this school year with only four teachers: one teacher for the girls – RitaMae, one teacher for the boys – Jana (who gave birth to her baby boy over the summer), two elementary teachers: Jordan and Sam (formerly middle school teachers, but up for this challenge) along with one permanent substitute – Marci. I am desperately looking for a Title One Reading teacher to replace Hannah and at least one more middle school teacher. I have been working on getting Valerie, last year’s Title One math teacher, to return as a middle school teacher.
I know it is futile, but I whine to Henry about his public school principals stealing my teachers at the last minute. He expresses empathy. And the summer ends as it began, with staff departures.
Then suddenly it is late May and the school year is ending. Many of the students bring cards and gifts for their teachers and there are hugs and tears on the last days of school. But as the last bus pulls away there is also a feeling of relief. I think we worried that the year would end with an unforeseen disaster. It didn’t and we all seem to utter “phew” in unison.
Two days before the end of school Neeley had told me he had accepted a job as a reporter for a local newspaper and he started in a week. I was relieved and pleased for both of us: Neeley is not a good teacher. But I am not so pleased when Neeley goes to lunch on the last day of school and never returns. He isn’t around to input or even hand us his students’ grades, let alone to clean and inventory his classroom or to say goodbye. I try, unsuccessfully, to contact Neeley to get his grade book. Rita Mae, Neeley’s teammate is livid. She suggests she and PE teacher Billie, extrapolate Neeley’s grades from the grades they have for those same students in the classes they teach: PE & Health (Billie), and Social Studies & Math (RitaMae). We all know this is not the way it is supposed to be but my repeated attempts to phone and email Neeley are for naught.
Midge is leaving too. She has fallen back in love with a high school sweetheart who, over 30 years ago, her father forbade her to date because he was from the wrong side of the tracks. Given her recent hospitalizations, I think teaching at-risk children has put Midge’s health at risk and her decision to leave this job for romance is wise.
Theo, the former military man who teaches math, applied for a position in Herald County public schools. A principal calls me for a reference check and tells me he plans to hire Theo.
On a rainy morning in June, Billie arrives late, again. Clearly with our students gone there is less pressure to arrive on-time, but we still have our 8:00 a.m. meetings to plan our summer work days and Billie is consistently late. I know she has a long drive but I am frustrated by her frequent lateness. When she arrives, interrupting the morning meeting and with great fanfare but no acknowledgement of her tardiness, I suggest we talk after the meeting. I open the discussion saying we need to discuss her on-time arrival problem. Billie starts with her usual litany of excuses, the weather, the dog, her unemployed husband, her college bound son, she concludes with a pronouncement that she is not really late and she “knows” I manipulate the clock to make her look late. Wearily I begin to respond when Billie leaps from her seat, announces she quits, throws her keys at Lynne and departs. I am speechless and dumbfounded. Lynne, who overheard the whole discussion over the make-believe walls in our portable, is as mystified as I am. But I learned my lesson many months ago with Ernie: never beg a quitter to reconsider.
Even with all these teachers departing, my budget cannot support all the staff on my payroll. The nature of Prospect is that since the school year starts with fewer children, one must employ fewer teachers in August and hire only when more children arrive. Ebencorp’s HR department advises me to layoff the last hired: that would be The Mime. I don’t like telling anyone they are losing their job, even The Mime. A couple days after I give her the news, she tells me she has a new job teaching in Herald County public schools. I am surprised but relieved the principal didn’t call for a reference check. I would have struggled to discuss the strengths of The Mime.
Another principal hires Buffy to teach third graders who are repeating third grade, and he doesn’t call for a reference check on her either. I am relieved both that she is gone and that I didn’t have to lie to help her land a new job.
But to balance the budget I have to layoff even more people. I eliminate the position of cafeteria worker and orientation leader. I decide we can make do with teachers serving students the food since the food is packaged into individual servings and Shasta, my transportation coordinator can help oversee the program. I don’t want to do this, but I have to prioritize classroom teachers. Similarly I need the person who runs orientation to be a certified teacher so when the enrollment in the orientation class is low, I can redeploy the orientation leader in a classroom. Stephanie did not go to college and thus isn’t comfortable with or qualified to teach academics. Both Stephanie and Ruth are very upset and the layoff conversations are stressful. Stephanie tells me now she will have to move back in with her abusive husband since she is unemployed.
Goodbye Neeley, Midge, Theo, Billie, Mime, Buffy, Ruth and Stephanie.
I am frustrated by the Ebencorp policy for balancing the budget for Prospect Schools: eviscerate a coherent staff every summer and then rehire new teachers in the fall, winter and spring as the student population grows. This system may make for a tidy spreadsheet, but it isn’t good for my teachers, students or for me.
With Stephanie gone, I make Stone my Orientation leader and decide to make Orientation a combination of Orientation and re-orientation. The idea is that some children may need to go through orientation a second time. It would be a stretch to say Stone is pleased, he is never pleased, but he seems not terribly unhappy.
I continue to work at Prospect over the summer, supervising staff, developing behavior plans, curricula and a faculty handbook. The handbook has been my dream project all year. I’ve been saving my meeting agendas, staff memos and random notes to compile a definitive guide on everything including consistent grading practices, guidelines for Activity Period, line protocol, rules on bus arrival and walkie-talkie use. I meet with my mentor, Rex, to solicit his input. As I complete each section, I share it with my staff for feedback. They are atypically enthusiastic and ask why I didn’t publish it sooner! Writing the handbook gives me a real sense of accomplishment and I am excited about using it in the fall. I imagine our morning meetings guided not by yet another hastily prepared agenda, but by “turn to page 17 and let’s review the procedure for fire drills.”
The Boss informs me we must run a summer school program. Without money for busses I am pessimistic about enrollment. The Boss is not interested in my assessment. We advertise summer school. On the first day, three children come. We call it individual tutoring and teachers take turns working one-on-one with the students. These children only come a couple days a week for a couple weeks. Meanwhile the teachers work on lesson plans and complain about having to work all summer for a lower salary than their public school counterparts.
Corinna, the Title One woman, arrives bearing strange but very good news. We still have over a thousand dollars to spend and we must spend it fast. Can I spend it at Books-a-million and at Barnes & Noble? Absolutely, but time is running out, so hurry! The staff divides into two teams and we buy hundreds of books for all our classrooms.
The best part about the summer: Rita Mae’s enthusiasm as she prepares to teach an all-girl class in the fall. She reads books on the subject, paints the walls lavender, buys pillows and beanbag chairs for her classroom, decorates the walls with posters and makes up a bulletin board with photos and mementos of her life with plenty of room for her students to add theirs. I find her working late at night, sometimes with her adolescent daughter, sometimes with her Mother who is visiting from out of town. She takes the books aimed at girls who are reluctant readers, recently purchased with the Title One windfall, and arranges them in fabric lined baskets and displays them on top of cabinets. Her classroom is transformed into a cozy nook for “her girls.” Rita Mae’s energy and positive attitude are infectious. Soon we have a steady parade of teachers, staff and visitors checking out her room.
The most unnerving part of the summer: Billie’s Revenge. Apparently the day Billie resigned in anger, she expected me to chase after her and beg her to stay. When I didn’t she began a disturbing campaign. The first salvos were by email. Guessing I wouldn’t open email addressed from her, she went to on-line greeting card sites and sent me hate mail using RitaMae’s and Hannah’s return addresses. In some of the email cards she called me names, in others she threatened to get a gun and shoot me. Rita Mae and Hannah reported receiving similar emails. I forwarded a selection to The Boss and asked for help, support and advice from Ebencorp. When The Boss did nothing, Billie began the second phase of her revenge. She began calling people and describing me as unethical, evil and incompetent. She called the woman who administers one of our grants, she called school board members, she called Henry, my public school liaison, she called The Boss and his boss, Clyde. The School Board was due to vote on renewing our contract and now they were receiving these strange phone calls. The Boss finally took action. He launched an investigation – into my behavior to see if Billie’s claims were true. When I went to the School Board meeting the night of the vote, sitting across the aisle from me I found Billie and former Prospect counselor, Ernie. Blasts from the past. The Boss intended to attend but arrived late, after the meeting adjourned. Billie hissed that she was going to make a public statement about my incompetence, but she didn’t. In the meantime I felt rather like vomiting. The School Board renewed the contract. The Ebencorp investigation lasted all summer and despite my phone calls asking for results, I never heard their findings. The Boss and I never had a follow-up discussion after the worm tree talk. I try to ignore it all and move forward. It is easy enough to be fully engaged with my summer projects such as writing the faculty handbook, but like a case of poison oak, it’s hard to ignore the itching.
During the summer Dana, my wonderful Title One Reading teacher, phoned to say that with four children under age 12, she felt she couldn’t work full-time in the fall. She said if I started a night school to let her know. I wished her luck and offered Hannah, I’m-even-mean-to-my-cat, the Title One Reading position. She had expressed an interest and, with her degree in English, it looked like a good fit. Her enthusiasm about becoming the Reading teacher nearly matched that of all-girl teacher Rita Mae!
Then, the day before school was to open, Hannah quits. Months earlier Hannah told me a public school principal (the same one who hired Buffy) was trying to hire her, but after she was chosen to be the Title One Reading teacher for the fall, she was so excited she didn’t want to leave Prospect. The day before school opens Hannah tells me something different. She says that same principal phoned her and offered her more money and she couldn’t say no. Sorry, thanks, bye. Déjà vu all over again, my memories of teachers quitting right before opening day 2002 come rushing back.
I am starting this school year with only four teachers: one teacher for the girls – RitaMae, one teacher for the boys – Jana (who gave birth to her baby boy over the summer), two elementary teachers: Jordan and Sam (formerly middle school teachers, but up for this challenge) along with one permanent substitute – Marci. I am desperately looking for a Title One Reading teacher to replace Hannah and at least one more middle school teacher. I have been working on getting Valerie, last year’s Title One math teacher, to return as a middle school teacher.
I know it is futile, but I whine to Henry about his public school principals stealing my teachers at the last minute. He expresses empathy. And the summer ends as it began, with staff departures.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Chapter Fifty-Seven: The Second of Three Epiphanies
Chapter 57 – The Second of Three Epiphanies
There’s nothing like a funeral, a graduation and the threat of unemployment to make a person reexamine her priorities. My second epiphany: if I am going to help the troubled children of Central Florida I need a different relationship with The Boss or a different boss. This second Epiphany leads me to do two things: meet with Clyde, the boss of The Boss and begin looking for another job.
The year before, just after Thanksgiving 2002, I spent a night at Clyde’s house. It was strange. Clyde invited me to be on a “select team of rising leaders” to help guide policies at Ebencorp. Clyde’s secretary called before the meeting to tell me Clyde insisted that after the meeting I not drive “all the way home” but rather that I spend the night with him and his family. I assured her the drive from Tampa to my home was not a problem but she said it wasn’t just the drive, Clyde wanted to get to know me better. I was pretty uncomfortable but I obeyed. Now in May 2003, I feel I might have some “money in the bank” with Clyde and maybe he’ll be willing to listen to me about The Boss. I act on this despite my former boss, Stephen, warning against going to Clyde about The Boss.
I call Clyde’s secretary and make an appointment to meet with him at 11:00 am. When I arrive he greets me saying he is starving and wants to go to lunch immediately. I’m not hungry, but assume he feels more comfortable talking candidly away from the office. Curiously he doesn’t ask me what cuisine I like. He drives us to a tiny Argentine restaurant with a menu featuring meat, meat and meat – even the salad is meat salad. Clyde speaks Spanish to the waitress and I try to order something with less meat. Luckily I’m not hungry.
Clyde begins by asking me why I scheduled this meeting, but before I can utter a complete sentence, he launches into a monologue on the wonders of The Boss. When I try to ask questions to determine whether the focus on punishment is coming from The Boss or is an Ebencorp value, Clyde is evasive and continues to lavish praise on The Boss. I stir my meat soup and try to approach the subject from a different angle – the dichotomy between what Herald County wants from me and what The Boss wants. Clyde doesn’t nibble. His riff on The Boss ends when he finishes his meal, looks at his watch and announces he has to get back to work.
Driving back to Lakeboro, I feel frustrated, defeated and hungry. Back in my apartment I stay up late refining my resume and writing cover letters. It’s time to search for a new job. Two charter schools have advertised their plans to open in Herald County. I apply for principal positions at both. One company runs a school 150 miles south of here. I drive down and spend the day touring and talking with the principal. I go to interviews and wait while they process the paperwork necessary for the Herald County school board to determine whether to approve their schools. Both schools seem to want to hire me, but without the Herald County School Board ‘s approval, there will be no schools.
In May the Herald County School Board meets and rejects all applications for new alternative charter schools. The Board especially doesn’t want any school that will compete with ESAK, Ebencorp’s alternative high school. The fact that one of the School Board members also sits on the board of ESAK isn’t deemed significant enough for him to recuse himself from the voting.
There’s nothing like a funeral, a graduation and the threat of unemployment to make a person reexamine her priorities. My second epiphany: if I am going to help the troubled children of Central Florida I need a different relationship with The Boss or a different boss. This second Epiphany leads me to do two things: meet with Clyde, the boss of The Boss and begin looking for another job.
The year before, just after Thanksgiving 2002, I spent a night at Clyde’s house. It was strange. Clyde invited me to be on a “select team of rising leaders” to help guide policies at Ebencorp. Clyde’s secretary called before the meeting to tell me Clyde insisted that after the meeting I not drive “all the way home” but rather that I spend the night with him and his family. I assured her the drive from Tampa to my home was not a problem but she said it wasn’t just the drive, Clyde wanted to get to know me better. I was pretty uncomfortable but I obeyed. Now in May 2003, I feel I might have some “money in the bank” with Clyde and maybe he’ll be willing to listen to me about The Boss. I act on this despite my former boss, Stephen, warning against going to Clyde about The Boss.
I call Clyde’s secretary and make an appointment to meet with him at 11:00 am. When I arrive he greets me saying he is starving and wants to go to lunch immediately. I’m not hungry, but assume he feels more comfortable talking candidly away from the office. Curiously he doesn’t ask me what cuisine I like. He drives us to a tiny Argentine restaurant with a menu featuring meat, meat and meat – even the salad is meat salad. Clyde speaks Spanish to the waitress and I try to order something with less meat. Luckily I’m not hungry.
Clyde begins by asking me why I scheduled this meeting, but before I can utter a complete sentence, he launches into a monologue on the wonders of The Boss. When I try to ask questions to determine whether the focus on punishment is coming from The Boss or is an Ebencorp value, Clyde is evasive and continues to lavish praise on The Boss. I stir my meat soup and try to approach the subject from a different angle – the dichotomy between what Herald County wants from me and what The Boss wants. Clyde doesn’t nibble. His riff on The Boss ends when he finishes his meal, looks at his watch and announces he has to get back to work.
Driving back to Lakeboro, I feel frustrated, defeated and hungry. Back in my apartment I stay up late refining my resume and writing cover letters. It’s time to search for a new job. Two charter schools have advertised their plans to open in Herald County. I apply for principal positions at both. One company runs a school 150 miles south of here. I drive down and spend the day touring and talking with the principal. I go to interviews and wait while they process the paperwork necessary for the Herald County school board to determine whether to approve their schools. Both schools seem to want to hire me, but without the Herald County School Board ‘s approval, there will be no schools.
In May the Herald County School Board meets and rejects all applications for new alternative charter schools. The Board especially doesn’t want any school that will compete with ESAK, Ebencorp’s alternative high school. The fact that one of the School Board members also sits on the board of ESAK isn’t deemed significant enough for him to recuse himself from the voting.
Monday, April 7, 2008
Chapter Fifty-Six: The Worms Crawl In
Chapter 56 – The Worms Crawl In
Recently I have not had any headache inducing-encounters with The Boss.
Admittedly there was the post-marathon incident and shortly thereafter I did receive a couple e-mails mandating all Prospect principals to attend a week-long retreat in April and a four-day “convention” in May and there was that e-mail in which he decreed a new policy saying he wants to interview all new hires after I interview them.
When I read these e-mails my first reaction was to clench my teeth and hyperventilate, then I remembered my resolution not to waste my limited psychic energy. So rather than respond, I print, file and forget about his e-mail. Passive aggressiveness is not my usual style, but in this case, intentional amnesia seemed to be my wisest response.
The explanation for the dearth of e-mails, phone calls or surprise visits from The Boss is that he has been focused on another principal, Lucy and her Prospect School in Naples. While The Boss is busy micromanaging Lucy’s campus and making her miserable, he is leaving me alone.
I am sorry for Lucy, but I am happy for me. I have enough on my plate with Prospect faculty, students and their parents.
My “vacation” from the boss starts to unravel a few weeks into May. In the early morning when I get on-line, the first email that pops up is from Lucy. It is written to The Boss, and I am blind copied. Lucy is submitting her resignation today. She feels she has no choice. I feel really sad about losing Lucy as my fellow Prospect principal and I want to phone her right away but, as always, the campus is already hopping. I decide to call her tonight.
When I return to my office at mid-day, The Boss is sitting at my desk. Surprise. I haven’t had any Boss-related problems since he turned his focus to Lucy’s campus. I guess he is done with that project and back to me. The Boss says he wants to talk privately. He suggests we sit outside. It is a hot day in mid-May. We end up at a dilapidated picnic table under a huge oak festooned with hatching worms. Lynne warned me about these worms, they look a little like fuzzy caterpillars but they sting. As The Boss talks worms drop from the tree onto the grass near our feet and occasionally, onto the picnic table.
Thinking about the email from Lucy, I wonder whether The Boss is going to ask me to be the principal at both Prospect schools until he can find a replacement. As it turns out, I could not be further from the truth.
The Boss has a yellow legal pad covered with pages and pages of writing. He reads from it beginning with a statement that my campus is a mad house and the children show a lack of respect, are defiant and profane. He says Prospect students aren’t ready for classroom experiences when they come to us and we need to focus instead on behavior and punishment. We need to develop more “uncomfortable consequences.” He tells me my counselors, Rusty and Rosie, are not the right people for their jobs. Moreover he doesn’t like my priorities, for example why do I spend time chasing down truant students? If children don’t come to school that is one less student to trouble our staff.
He continues, saying I am insubordinate, guarded, aloof, protective and not a team player. He plans to make changes on my campus and he can do it with me or without me. The Boss says he does not enjoy our working relationship, it causes him discomfort and distress and he is ready to resolve it or end it.
He goes on and on making the same points over and over while the worms drop from the branches. I take notes to maintain control over my emotions. The Boss talks for nearly two hours. When he permits me to speak I ask him for specifics on how he feels I should deal with our disrespectful, defiant and profane students. He tells me this is what I was hired to do and reminds me he feels my focus on academics is misguided.
I then ask how I have been insubordinate. The Boss refers to his legal pad and lists off five examples of my insubordination. The first item he cites is that just this morning I accepted a bcc email from Lucy on a subject that was neither my business nor related to me. Here The Boss stops and points his finger at me for emphasis admonishing, “You are NEVER to accept bcc emails.” The next example happened several months ago when I tried to set up a meeting with my fellow Prospect principals. The Boss says he knows I was attempting to organize a meeting that would exclude him. Thirdly, I didn’t remind him of my days off for the Marathon. My fourth indiscretion is that I have “engaged in conversations which have negatively impacted the morale of others.” And the final example of my insubordination was that I did not attend the week-long training last fall and I am using my son’s college graduation as an excuse to not attend the week long training later this month.
For over three hours, sweat running down his face, The Boss persists in what he thinks of as “providing feedback,” which isn’t quite how I view it. I try to keep a frozen expression that reveals no emotion while inside a battle rages. I want to yell and shout at this man, my boss. I want to argue each of his points, the half-truths, misinterpretations and lies. I want to ask him why he is working so hard to crush me rather than support me. But fear paralyzes me.
At the same time I want to cry. I am afraid I am going to lose my job and we just moved into our new house two months ago and how will we pay our bills without my income? I want to cry because my school is not the way I want it and listening to The Boss I am afraid maybe it really is my fault. Maybe the students aren’t ready to learn and if that is the case I am not sure I have the skills or desire to change from running an academic institution to a work camp. I remember that when The Boss was a Prospect principal he had the students walking in circles carrying five or ten pound buckets of concrete or scrubbing the building with toothbrushes. I am no more interested in implementing those punishments than I am in administering corporal punishment to the children.
In May 2003, sitting under that worm tree, what I knew to be true but couldn’t prove, was that the boot camp approach advocated by The Boss was not the answer and that removing the “bad” children from public school and segregating them at Prospect was not in the children’s best interests. Had I been able to time travel to October 2004, I could have supported my contentions with a report published by a 13-member panel convened by the National Institutes of Health to review scientific evidence on the causes and prevention of youth violence. A key finding was that boot camps and other “get tough” programs for adolescents do not prevent criminal behavior and may make the problem worse since they bring together teens who are inclined toward violence and they often teach each other how to commit more.
But in May 2003, The Boss departs (after promising to put “all this” in an email to make it a formal letter of reprimand) and I am upset with myself for not being more assertive. After all, don’t I constantly receive positive feedback from all the people with whom I work in the public schools, especially from Henry, my liaison and Rex, my mentor and fellow middle school principal? These educators keep telling me Prospect has never run so well and been so academically oriented and so much like “a real school.” They share with me horror stories of Prospect’s past. Prospect may be far from the school I want to create, but I also know it is better now than it ever has been. I should be empowered to call the bluff of The Boss. Would he really fire the best principal Prospect has ever had? Would he risk incurring the wrath of the Herald County Public Schools, a key stakeholder, our customer? Would he risk them pulling the contract or not renewing the contract? And finally and perhaps most perplexing I keep asking myself: why is my relationship with The Boss so toxic?
As far as my thoughts about confronting The Boss, it is just as well I didn’t because I am not sure I would have had much back up. About a year after I left Prospect, Henry and I got together for breakfast. I listened to him complain about The Boss. Since his job is to negotiate and manage the contract with Prospect, I asked him directly: why does he tolerate this man? Henry admitted that not only would he avoid wasting hard-won political capital on the children of Prospect (who he really doesn’t believe will ever be productive members of society) but he wouldn’t even bother spending money on them if it were politically “free.” So if a Kathleen comes along and creates a fantastic program on a shoestring budget, great. But Henry won’t lose a minute of sleep if Prospect children spend their days carrying buckets of concrete, just as long as they aren’t in “his” classrooms, as long as they aren’t creating headaches in “his” public schools.
While I was the principal at Prospect I missed this pragmatism of Henry’s. I saw him as an ally, a partner in my crusade to “save the children.” But I see now that despite our professional friendship and mutual admiration, Henry would not, and will not, recommend that the School Board “pull the contract” even if the children of Prospect aren’t learning or even being taught.
About a week after the al fresco Boss meeting, I flew to New York for my son’s graduation from Columbia. He graduated on a Wednesday but fearing for my job, I was back at work on Thursday.
I wanted to revel in my son’s success. I wanted to feel proud and happy and be fully present. To use a Verizon training slogan, I wanted “to be here now.” But it was a struggle. Worries about Prospect and The Boss invaded my thoughts. I felt nervous, distracted and irritable. I did have some relief when John (an old college friend of ours) and his girlfriend, joined us. For a few hours The Boss and Prospect vanished from my consciousness as my husband, son, son’s fiancé, John, his girlfriend and I ran around New York City eating edamame (green soy beans) and m&ms while talking about our lives and dreams. John told us about resigning from his corporate job at Verizon, about his trip to Uzbekistan building homes as part of Habitat for Humanity and his future plans: he and his girlfriend rented a house in Italy for July. John couldn’t believe we have a son graduating college, it seems like only yesterday my husband, John and I were doing the graduating. We talk about running. John ran a marathon several years ago. He wanted to hear all about our marathon experience. We share training tips and injury prevention. John’s foot is bothering him, my ham is sore. Too soon the sun sets and John and his girlfriend leave.
That was the last time we saw John. A week later, at age 47, John died of an undiagnosed heart problem.
The Boss gave me permission to attend the funeral but made it clear he expected me to dial into his all-principal conference call the day before the funeral, after I arrived at my motel in Michigan.
Recently I have not had any headache inducing-encounters with The Boss.
Admittedly there was the post-marathon incident and shortly thereafter I did receive a couple e-mails mandating all Prospect principals to attend a week-long retreat in April and a four-day “convention” in May and there was that e-mail in which he decreed a new policy saying he wants to interview all new hires after I interview them.
When I read these e-mails my first reaction was to clench my teeth and hyperventilate, then I remembered my resolution not to waste my limited psychic energy. So rather than respond, I print, file and forget about his e-mail. Passive aggressiveness is not my usual style, but in this case, intentional amnesia seemed to be my wisest response.
The explanation for the dearth of e-mails, phone calls or surprise visits from The Boss is that he has been focused on another principal, Lucy and her Prospect School in Naples. While The Boss is busy micromanaging Lucy’s campus and making her miserable, he is leaving me alone.
I am sorry for Lucy, but I am happy for me. I have enough on my plate with Prospect faculty, students and their parents.
My “vacation” from the boss starts to unravel a few weeks into May. In the early morning when I get on-line, the first email that pops up is from Lucy. It is written to The Boss, and I am blind copied. Lucy is submitting her resignation today. She feels she has no choice. I feel really sad about losing Lucy as my fellow Prospect principal and I want to phone her right away but, as always, the campus is already hopping. I decide to call her tonight.
When I return to my office at mid-day, The Boss is sitting at my desk. Surprise. I haven’t had any Boss-related problems since he turned his focus to Lucy’s campus. I guess he is done with that project and back to me. The Boss says he wants to talk privately. He suggests we sit outside. It is a hot day in mid-May. We end up at a dilapidated picnic table under a huge oak festooned with hatching worms. Lynne warned me about these worms, they look a little like fuzzy caterpillars but they sting. As The Boss talks worms drop from the tree onto the grass near our feet and occasionally, onto the picnic table.
Thinking about the email from Lucy, I wonder whether The Boss is going to ask me to be the principal at both Prospect schools until he can find a replacement. As it turns out, I could not be further from the truth.
The Boss has a yellow legal pad covered with pages and pages of writing. He reads from it beginning with a statement that my campus is a mad house and the children show a lack of respect, are defiant and profane. He says Prospect students aren’t ready for classroom experiences when they come to us and we need to focus instead on behavior and punishment. We need to develop more “uncomfortable consequences.” He tells me my counselors, Rusty and Rosie, are not the right people for their jobs. Moreover he doesn’t like my priorities, for example why do I spend time chasing down truant students? If children don’t come to school that is one less student to trouble our staff.
He continues, saying I am insubordinate, guarded, aloof, protective and not a team player. He plans to make changes on my campus and he can do it with me or without me. The Boss says he does not enjoy our working relationship, it causes him discomfort and distress and he is ready to resolve it or end it.
He goes on and on making the same points over and over while the worms drop from the branches. I take notes to maintain control over my emotions. The Boss talks for nearly two hours. When he permits me to speak I ask him for specifics on how he feels I should deal with our disrespectful, defiant and profane students. He tells me this is what I was hired to do and reminds me he feels my focus on academics is misguided.
I then ask how I have been insubordinate. The Boss refers to his legal pad and lists off five examples of my insubordination. The first item he cites is that just this morning I accepted a bcc email from Lucy on a subject that was neither my business nor related to me. Here The Boss stops and points his finger at me for emphasis admonishing, “You are NEVER to accept bcc emails.” The next example happened several months ago when I tried to set up a meeting with my fellow Prospect principals. The Boss says he knows I was attempting to organize a meeting that would exclude him. Thirdly, I didn’t remind him of my days off for the Marathon. My fourth indiscretion is that I have “engaged in conversations which have negatively impacted the morale of others.” And the final example of my insubordination was that I did not attend the week-long training last fall and I am using my son’s college graduation as an excuse to not attend the week long training later this month.
For over three hours, sweat running down his face, The Boss persists in what he thinks of as “providing feedback,” which isn’t quite how I view it. I try to keep a frozen expression that reveals no emotion while inside a battle rages. I want to yell and shout at this man, my boss. I want to argue each of his points, the half-truths, misinterpretations and lies. I want to ask him why he is working so hard to crush me rather than support me. But fear paralyzes me.
At the same time I want to cry. I am afraid I am going to lose my job and we just moved into our new house two months ago and how will we pay our bills without my income? I want to cry because my school is not the way I want it and listening to The Boss I am afraid maybe it really is my fault. Maybe the students aren’t ready to learn and if that is the case I am not sure I have the skills or desire to change from running an academic institution to a work camp. I remember that when The Boss was a Prospect principal he had the students walking in circles carrying five or ten pound buckets of concrete or scrubbing the building with toothbrushes. I am no more interested in implementing those punishments than I am in administering corporal punishment to the children.
In May 2003, sitting under that worm tree, what I knew to be true but couldn’t prove, was that the boot camp approach advocated by The Boss was not the answer and that removing the “bad” children from public school and segregating them at Prospect was not in the children’s best interests. Had I been able to time travel to October 2004, I could have supported my contentions with a report published by a 13-member panel convened by the National Institutes of Health to review scientific evidence on the causes and prevention of youth violence. A key finding was that boot camps and other “get tough” programs for adolescents do not prevent criminal behavior and may make the problem worse since they bring together teens who are inclined toward violence and they often teach each other how to commit more.
But in May 2003, The Boss departs (after promising to put “all this” in an email to make it a formal letter of reprimand) and I am upset with myself for not being more assertive. After all, don’t I constantly receive positive feedback from all the people with whom I work in the public schools, especially from Henry, my liaison and Rex, my mentor and fellow middle school principal? These educators keep telling me Prospect has never run so well and been so academically oriented and so much like “a real school.” They share with me horror stories of Prospect’s past. Prospect may be far from the school I want to create, but I also know it is better now than it ever has been. I should be empowered to call the bluff of The Boss. Would he really fire the best principal Prospect has ever had? Would he risk incurring the wrath of the Herald County Public Schools, a key stakeholder, our customer? Would he risk them pulling the contract or not renewing the contract? And finally and perhaps most perplexing I keep asking myself: why is my relationship with The Boss so toxic?
As far as my thoughts about confronting The Boss, it is just as well I didn’t because I am not sure I would have had much back up. About a year after I left Prospect, Henry and I got together for breakfast. I listened to him complain about The Boss. Since his job is to negotiate and manage the contract with Prospect, I asked him directly: why does he tolerate this man? Henry admitted that not only would he avoid wasting hard-won political capital on the children of Prospect (who he really doesn’t believe will ever be productive members of society) but he wouldn’t even bother spending money on them if it were politically “free.” So if a Kathleen comes along and creates a fantastic program on a shoestring budget, great. But Henry won’t lose a minute of sleep if Prospect children spend their days carrying buckets of concrete, just as long as they aren’t in “his” classrooms, as long as they aren’t creating headaches in “his” public schools.
While I was the principal at Prospect I missed this pragmatism of Henry’s. I saw him as an ally, a partner in my crusade to “save the children.” But I see now that despite our professional friendship and mutual admiration, Henry would not, and will not, recommend that the School Board “pull the contract” even if the children of Prospect aren’t learning or even being taught.
About a week after the al fresco Boss meeting, I flew to New York for my son’s graduation from Columbia. He graduated on a Wednesday but fearing for my job, I was back at work on Thursday.
I wanted to revel in my son’s success. I wanted to feel proud and happy and be fully present. To use a Verizon training slogan, I wanted “to be here now.” But it was a struggle. Worries about Prospect and The Boss invaded my thoughts. I felt nervous, distracted and irritable. I did have some relief when John (an old college friend of ours) and his girlfriend, joined us. For a few hours The Boss and Prospect vanished from my consciousness as my husband, son, son’s fiancé, John, his girlfriend and I ran around New York City eating edamame (green soy beans) and m&ms while talking about our lives and dreams. John told us about resigning from his corporate job at Verizon, about his trip to Uzbekistan building homes as part of Habitat for Humanity and his future plans: he and his girlfriend rented a house in Italy for July. John couldn’t believe we have a son graduating college, it seems like only yesterday my husband, John and I were doing the graduating. We talk about running. John ran a marathon several years ago. He wanted to hear all about our marathon experience. We share training tips and injury prevention. John’s foot is bothering him, my ham is sore. Too soon the sun sets and John and his girlfriend leave.
That was the last time we saw John. A week later, at age 47, John died of an undiagnosed heart problem.
The Boss gave me permission to attend the funeral but made it clear he expected me to dial into his all-principal conference call the day before the funeral, after I arrived at my motel in Michigan.
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Chapter Fifty-Five: The Scores are in and the Loser is...
Chapter 55: The Scores are in and the Loser is…
FCAT tests are administered in February but the scores aren’t posted until late May.
Unlike the public school scores, the FCAT scores of Herald County’s Alternative Schools are not used to measure the schools by state or federal standards, although some Alternative School FCAT scores can be found on-line. One need not be a statistician to see that Herald County’s alternative schools post the lowest FCAT scores in the county. But Prospect, I am proud to say did comparatively well.
FCAT scores range from 100-500 for each grade level. In 2003, the mean scores for 7th graders in reading, in all nine public middle schools in Herald County, ranged from 285 to 318, with a Florida state average of 297. Prospect scored 255. The Avenue School (a K-12 alternative, contracted school with twice the population of Prospect) posted scores of 178 and 197. (Avenue posts two scores because they divide their students into two groups: special education and regular education.)
For 8th graders, the public school reading scores ranged from 299 to 319, with a state average of 301. Prospect scored 249, Avenue School: 206 and 227. For 7th grade math scores, the public schools ranged from 289 to 316 with a state average of 296 and Prospect posting 263; Avenue: 194 and 179. 8th grade math scores for the public schools ranged from 306 to 331, the state average was 310. Prospect’s score was 263, Avenue: 198 and 200.
An argument can be made, and often is, that the FCAT scores for alternative schools do not necessarily reflect the quality of education at those schools. Obvious questions arise such as: How long have the children been attending the alternative school? What were their FCAT scores when they were in public school? But explanations don’t change the reality. How many parents are willing to send their children to an alternative school that posts the lowest standardized test scores in the county, even if their public school principal recommends it? And if these alternative schools are low performing, shouldn’t they receive the same attention as public schools: more money, more resources and a mandate to improve or close? Additionally, isn’t there a risk that public school principals will recommend transferring low-performing students, who frequently also have behavior problems (since academic failure and misbehavior go hand-in-hand) to alternative schools where their dreadful test scores won’t reflect on a public school? By funding the operation of schools in which fewer than 1/3 of the students pass the FCAT, Herald County is choosing to leave hundreds of students behind. Where is the accountability?
Alas, the fox is guarding the hen house. To understand the situation, begin by asking: why does the Herald County Public School system contract with private corporations to run alternative schools in Herald County? They do it for two reasons: first, both the school board and the principals want the “bad children” out of the classrooms where they prevent the “good children” from learning and secondly, contracting for these services is cheaper than running these “bad” schools themselves.
I ask Henry why he continues to request the school board renew the contracts with these alternative schools when, during candid conversations, he has admitted he knows these schools aren’t doing a good job and moreover, he is aware of other viable options. These highly disruptive students could be tutored at home or students removed from class could receive instruction, in a separate classroom, on their own campus. Henry first cites cost and then tells me that fewer than 2% of Herald County children are enrolled in alternative schools and these children have always existed and will always continue to exist. Translation: there are only a few of these children and we’ve given up on them. Herald County has thus selected the children to be “left behind.”
I ask Henry why he doesn’t get more involved in these schools and insist they meet the same academic standards mandated of the public schools in areas such as class size, updated textbooks and hours of instructional time. He tells me the School Board attorney cautioned him NOT to become involved and that his job is to “manage the contract.” If the private corporation says a teacher is certified but Henry hears that “teacher” hasn’t graduated college, it is not Henry’s business to investigate. It is not in Henry’s job description nor in his best interest (or in the interests of the Herald County Schools) to notice the lack of textbooks, the failure to provide students academic instruction for the legal minimum number of minutes or the oversized classes with some student – teacher ratios as high as 35:1. As the contract manager, Henry’s choice is to either ignore these deficiencies or be forced to “pull the contract.” Pulling the contract would mean overwhelming and dangerously overcrowding the other contracted Alternative Schools, or sending these “bad” children back to the public schools where they can continue to disrupt class and lower the average test scores.
Henry is not a bad person. He is intelligent and cares about children, but he is not going to spend his political capital advocating for a relatively small number of children that both he and his school board colleagues view as lost causes. Prospect children are not an appealing constituency. The powers that be are really not particularly concerned that the unkempt child who curses, takes drugs and carries a weapon isn’t being well educated.
Someone needs to be looking over their shoulders and monitoring these alternative schools. But asking public school employees to be the watchdogs is a conflict of interest. Accountability needs to be shifted to an independent committee of educators, professionals not employed by, or beholden, to the local school board. And when they are asked to evaluate alternative schools, it is hard to imagine they would recommend renewal of most Herald County alternative school contracts.
FCAT tests are administered in February but the scores aren’t posted until late May.
Unlike the public school scores, the FCAT scores of Herald County’s Alternative Schools are not used to measure the schools by state or federal standards, although some Alternative School FCAT scores can be found on-line. One need not be a statistician to see that Herald County’s alternative schools post the lowest FCAT scores in the county. But Prospect, I am proud to say did comparatively well.
FCAT scores range from 100-500 for each grade level. In 2003, the mean scores for 7th graders in reading, in all nine public middle schools in Herald County, ranged from 285 to 318, with a Florida state average of 297. Prospect scored 255. The Avenue School (a K-12 alternative, contracted school with twice the population of Prospect) posted scores of 178 and 197. (Avenue posts two scores because they divide their students into two groups: special education and regular education.)
For 8th graders, the public school reading scores ranged from 299 to 319, with a state average of 301. Prospect scored 249, Avenue School: 206 and 227. For 7th grade math scores, the public schools ranged from 289 to 316 with a state average of 296 and Prospect posting 263; Avenue: 194 and 179. 8th grade math scores for the public schools ranged from 306 to 331, the state average was 310. Prospect’s score was 263, Avenue: 198 and 200.
An argument can be made, and often is, that the FCAT scores for alternative schools do not necessarily reflect the quality of education at those schools. Obvious questions arise such as: How long have the children been attending the alternative school? What were their FCAT scores when they were in public school? But explanations don’t change the reality. How many parents are willing to send their children to an alternative school that posts the lowest standardized test scores in the county, even if their public school principal recommends it? And if these alternative schools are low performing, shouldn’t they receive the same attention as public schools: more money, more resources and a mandate to improve or close? Additionally, isn’t there a risk that public school principals will recommend transferring low-performing students, who frequently also have behavior problems (since academic failure and misbehavior go hand-in-hand) to alternative schools where their dreadful test scores won’t reflect on a public school? By funding the operation of schools in which fewer than 1/3 of the students pass the FCAT, Herald County is choosing to leave hundreds of students behind. Where is the accountability?
Alas, the fox is guarding the hen house. To understand the situation, begin by asking: why does the Herald County Public School system contract with private corporations to run alternative schools in Herald County? They do it for two reasons: first, both the school board and the principals want the “bad children” out of the classrooms where they prevent the “good children” from learning and secondly, contracting for these services is cheaper than running these “bad” schools themselves.
I ask Henry why he continues to request the school board renew the contracts with these alternative schools when, during candid conversations, he has admitted he knows these schools aren’t doing a good job and moreover, he is aware of other viable options. These highly disruptive students could be tutored at home or students removed from class could receive instruction, in a separate classroom, on their own campus. Henry first cites cost and then tells me that fewer than 2% of Herald County children are enrolled in alternative schools and these children have always existed and will always continue to exist. Translation: there are only a few of these children and we’ve given up on them. Herald County has thus selected the children to be “left behind.”
I ask Henry why he doesn’t get more involved in these schools and insist they meet the same academic standards mandated of the public schools in areas such as class size, updated textbooks and hours of instructional time. He tells me the School Board attorney cautioned him NOT to become involved and that his job is to “manage the contract.” If the private corporation says a teacher is certified but Henry hears that “teacher” hasn’t graduated college, it is not Henry’s business to investigate. It is not in Henry’s job description nor in his best interest (or in the interests of the Herald County Schools) to notice the lack of textbooks, the failure to provide students academic instruction for the legal minimum number of minutes or the oversized classes with some student – teacher ratios as high as 35:1. As the contract manager, Henry’s choice is to either ignore these deficiencies or be forced to “pull the contract.” Pulling the contract would mean overwhelming and dangerously overcrowding the other contracted Alternative Schools, or sending these “bad” children back to the public schools where they can continue to disrupt class and lower the average test scores.
Henry is not a bad person. He is intelligent and cares about children, but he is not going to spend his political capital advocating for a relatively small number of children that both he and his school board colleagues view as lost causes. Prospect children are not an appealing constituency. The powers that be are really not particularly concerned that the unkempt child who curses, takes drugs and carries a weapon isn’t being well educated.
Someone needs to be looking over their shoulders and monitoring these alternative schools. But asking public school employees to be the watchdogs is a conflict of interest. Accountability needs to be shifted to an independent committee of educators, professionals not employed by, or beholden, to the local school board. And when they are asked to evaluate alternative schools, it is hard to imagine they would recommend renewal of most Herald County alternative school contracts.
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