Sorry to all my "fan" that I have been absent from the Chalkboard. The month of December is just crazy. Progress reports go out. The kids are extra...uhmm....energetic. Assemblies are planned and put on. It's exhausting. Good exhausting. But, exhausting. Also, I felt like I was blahging about my students and that's not the point of the Chalkboard Warrior. I want to highlight the policies and laws that contradict each other and interfere with the teaching process.
Here's a new one. 12 year old students who are hospitalized in psychiatric wards now have the right to sign or not sign "Request for Information" forms. An RFI is a form where doctors and schools sign agreements to share each other's findings. This is in the interest of collaborating with experts to provide the best care and environment a student needs.
Well. Let me refresh your memory. My student, Ismael, is a well known "wannabe"--a kid who wants to be a gang banger. In my experience, every wannabe I've met succeeded in becoming a gang banger. So, really, a wannabe is in the community college stage of gang banging. But, I digress. Ismael is the student who pretended to first stab, then shoot me, then feigned a woman screaming as she died. Then, when after the big "help Ismael" was organized, he refused to go to the hospital and was eventually taken there in handcuffs because he had become so belligerent to the police. Ismael then spent two weeks in the psychiatric ward of a local hospital. Now, I have had students sent to the hospital for psychiatric reasons who were sent home that day and never saw the psychiatric ward. I have had students sent to the hospital who were then enrolled in the hospital's day program in the psychiatric ward. And I have had students sent to the hospital who were committed for two weeks. Rarely. But, it happens. And when Ismael was taken to the hospital, he stayed for two weeks. He was in bad shape.
When he returned, he was a different kid. The sweet side of him shined--he stayed in his seat, raised his hand when he wanted to speak, came to school in uniform and followed all the rules without question. He was obviously on medication. Not so much that he was "drugged out," but on the amount he needed to help him focus and succeed. The release form from the hospital, which is always sent to the school, had absolutely no information on it except to say that Ismael had indeed been in the hospital and his absences were excused. No information about medication. No information about therapy. No information about how the school can help support Ismael.
So, the case manager called the hospital. According to the hospital, there is a new HIPAA law that states anyone TWELVE years and older gets to sign the RFI and Israel had refused. A couple weeks back into school, he stopped wearing his uniform. He started "tagging" in his note books--that's the new fancy term for graffiti. He's shaking hands with fellow wannabes in the hallway, complete with the Raza R, the local boys club. I mean the local gang. So, the case manager called again, just in case. No go. Israel determines his post care.
Now, I have not done sufficient research on this law just yet. So, I will continue this post once I find out more about this HIPAA law. But, I ask you, should a CHILD be in charge of their medical care and the coordination of their medical care with their school system. And, if you think, well that sounds about right, I was mature enough when I was 12, let me put it this way: Should a TWELVE year old child who has been hospitalized in a psychiatric ward, who has a history of violence toward adults, be charged with their medical care. Because, I can assure you, a twelve year old wannabe charged with that much responsibility and that much history of violence and instability will one day be charged with a crime. Or end up in a morgue. And that is terrible. And society will pay for failing this child. And my heart breaks a little bit more as my hands are tied tighter behind my back.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Friday, November 6, 2009
It's the little things
"Why do you keep teaching in that school?" I hear this all the time.
First, the school where I work is excellent. We are a piece of heaven in the midst of chaos for a lot of my students. We have a former graduate who earned the Bill and Melinda Gates scholarship. That's a scholarship that sends students to school and covers every expense until they have earned their doctoral degrees. We have graduates who have received the prestigious Nordstrom scholarships. We have students coming back to visit to tell us how their college days, careers, and families are going. We have students here whose grandparents came to this school. Even though I often blahg about the instances that bring me down, there are many reasons why I teach and one big reason is the little things. The little victories.
Yesterday, Donovan asked to speak to me privately. All my students know if they have a concern, a question, a complaint, a desire to hit someone but don't want to get in trouble, they can ask to speak to me privately. Donovan asking to speak to me privately is huge. He was my student who all last year only spoke to me when he was calling me a "b" or telling me to go to "h." He's the one who earlier this year called me "liar" so many times, I was thinking of buying a vanity license plate with my new nickname.
As is all too often the case, the story Donovan needed to tell me broke my heart. He apologized to me for not turning in his science project on time because the night before he was helping his mother take care of his step-father who had come home drunk, throwing up all over the place. I thanked him for sharing and gave him all the feedback that we special ed. teachers are taught to give back in these kinds of instances. Then, we discussed the goals he has set out for himself this year, which includes graduating and adding another general education science class. I told him he needs to think about how seriously he wants to achieve his goals. I then explained that he needed to show me how serious he is about these goals and if he was, he would have to bring the project into me today. This surprised him because, as he noted, this was not a day students were going to be attending since it was a professional day (PD) for teachers. I told him someone would be in the office to let him in, and he could ask one of the office clerks to put it in my mailbox. Then, I let that conversation go and did not set myself up for disapointment or excitement or what have you.
After our morning PD and our celebratory lunch for the new principal, I went to my mailbox and there sitting in it like a pot of gold was Donovan's completed science project and the colored pencils he borrowed.
And that moment of seeing that science project in my mailbox is a moment I get to have every now and again as a teacher. And it is a moment that I never experienced in the corporate world. I am very lucky. And I feel honored over and over again that I am allowed to spend my days in the company of children who more than often beat the odds and pull themselves up by the bootstraps more times than I have ever needed to.
First, the school where I work is excellent. We are a piece of heaven in the midst of chaos for a lot of my students. We have a former graduate who earned the Bill and Melinda Gates scholarship. That's a scholarship that sends students to school and covers every expense until they have earned their doctoral degrees. We have graduates who have received the prestigious Nordstrom scholarships. We have students coming back to visit to tell us how their college days, careers, and families are going. We have students here whose grandparents came to this school. Even though I often blahg about the instances that bring me down, there are many reasons why I teach and one big reason is the little things. The little victories.
Yesterday, Donovan asked to speak to me privately. All my students know if they have a concern, a question, a complaint, a desire to hit someone but don't want to get in trouble, they can ask to speak to me privately. Donovan asking to speak to me privately is huge. He was my student who all last year only spoke to me when he was calling me a "b" or telling me to go to "h." He's the one who earlier this year called me "liar" so many times, I was thinking of buying a vanity license plate with my new nickname.
As is all too often the case, the story Donovan needed to tell me broke my heart. He apologized to me for not turning in his science project on time because the night before he was helping his mother take care of his step-father who had come home drunk, throwing up all over the place. I thanked him for sharing and gave him all the feedback that we special ed. teachers are taught to give back in these kinds of instances. Then, we discussed the goals he has set out for himself this year, which includes graduating and adding another general education science class. I told him he needs to think about how seriously he wants to achieve his goals. I then explained that he needed to show me how serious he is about these goals and if he was, he would have to bring the project into me today. This surprised him because, as he noted, this was not a day students were going to be attending since it was a professional day (PD) for teachers. I told him someone would be in the office to let him in, and he could ask one of the office clerks to put it in my mailbox. Then, I let that conversation go and did not set myself up for disapointment or excitement or what have you.
After our morning PD and our celebratory lunch for the new principal, I went to my mailbox and there sitting in it like a pot of gold was Donovan's completed science project and the colored pencils he borrowed.
And that moment of seeing that science project in my mailbox is a moment I get to have every now and again as a teacher. And it is a moment that I never experienced in the corporate world. I am very lucky. And I feel honored over and over again that I am allowed to spend my days in the company of children who more than often beat the odds and pull themselves up by the bootstraps more times than I have ever needed to.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Smoking Pot
I have this student. He was one of my stars last year. So sweet. So helpful. Tried really hard.
This year, a completely different kid. When I give a direction, he crosses his arms, slumps back in his seat and sighs. If I call him on his inappropriate behavior, which escalates as the day goes on, he mutters under his breath, "she" this "she" that, "I don't care," "she can't make me do anything."
I've called his mom. I've talked to our security guard who is also the soccer coach to help him out. I've met with the school counselor several times about how worried I am that he is so different than last year. He is in the school leadership group that is run by the area police officers. He attends CAPS--a Chicago Police outreach program--on Saturdays. He is surrounded by support. And, he was chosen to participate in an after-school music program, which he has not been attending because, he said, he was grounded. He lied. His sister, very bravely, came forward with the truth.
From 2:45 to 4:30 every day, he is getting high.
Who is supplying him the drugs? Two people.
1. His cousin. A former student.
2. Ismael. A current student.
Fabulous.
A half hour after finding this information out, I attended a meeting where the theme was, "get those scores up."
O.k.
Now I am slumped in my chair and sighing.
This year, a completely different kid. When I give a direction, he crosses his arms, slumps back in his seat and sighs. If I call him on his inappropriate behavior, which escalates as the day goes on, he mutters under his breath, "she" this "she" that, "I don't care," "she can't make me do anything."
I've called his mom. I've talked to our security guard who is also the soccer coach to help him out. I've met with the school counselor several times about how worried I am that he is so different than last year. He is in the school leadership group that is run by the area police officers. He attends CAPS--a Chicago Police outreach program--on Saturdays. He is surrounded by support. And, he was chosen to participate in an after-school music program, which he has not been attending because, he said, he was grounded. He lied. His sister, very bravely, came forward with the truth.
From 2:45 to 4:30 every day, he is getting high.
Who is supplying him the drugs? Two people.
1. His cousin. A former student.
2. Ismael. A current student.
Fabulous.
A half hour after finding this information out, I attended a meeting where the theme was, "get those scores up."
O.k.
Now I am slumped in my chair and sighing.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
updates
Ismael's sister asked to speak to me privately. She told me Ismael called her and asked her to tell me that he is sorry. So sad. He is in the hospital, getting the medication and therapy that he needs. I'm glad he is finally getting hope, and have my fingers crossed that the help continues once he is released from the hospital.
I have radiating pains going up and down my arm and into my back, so blogging is signficantly down. So, sorry if the blog is less enjoyable. Not feeling really humorous.
Today I got observed for my annual review. I TOTALLY forgot that it was today. The case manager was in my classroom working on the computer, I decided to throw my old lesson plans out the proverbial window and went a different way, then in walked the assistant principal. I thought she was coming in to talk to the case manager, but then she sat down and pulled out the check list. I really shouldn't care. But, I do. I'm a goody two shoes, a teacher's pet, a brown noser, what have you, and I like to be appreciated. I HATE teacher evaluations. When I was in the corporate world, the reviews I got were glowing. But, there's some school of thought in the education world that if no criticism is provided then it's not a valuable review. I know that. But, I still cringe at the idea of having to hear criticisms. Makes me want to cry. The only glowing on my reviews is the sparkles my tear drops leave. Oy.
In two weeks, I'm getting a new student. Ella. Ellie. She is a blog in and of herself. I will tell you more about her tomorrow.
Blue and White, Let's Go! Blue and White, Let's Go! Yay Panthers!!!!!
I have radiating pains going up and down my arm and into my back, so blogging is signficantly down. So, sorry if the blog is less enjoyable. Not feeling really humorous.
Today I got observed for my annual review. I TOTALLY forgot that it was today. The case manager was in my classroom working on the computer, I decided to throw my old lesson plans out the proverbial window and went a different way, then in walked the assistant principal. I thought she was coming in to talk to the case manager, but then she sat down and pulled out the check list. I really shouldn't care. But, I do. I'm a goody two shoes, a teacher's pet, a brown noser, what have you, and I like to be appreciated. I HATE teacher evaluations. When I was in the corporate world, the reviews I got were glowing. But, there's some school of thought in the education world that if no criticism is provided then it's not a valuable review. I know that. But, I still cringe at the idea of having to hear criticisms. Makes me want to cry. The only glowing on my reviews is the sparkles my tear drops leave. Oy.
In two weeks, I'm getting a new student. Ella. Ellie. She is a blog in and of herself. I will tell you more about her tomorrow.
Blue and White, Let's Go! Blue and White, Let's Go! Yay Panthers!!!!!
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Well
Ismael is in the hospital. And fingers crossed, they admit him. He was brought to school today by his mother. She tried to take him to the hospital yesterday, but he ran away. And she actually didn't bring him to school, she tricked him into going in despite the fact that she was coming as well. She told him she was buying candy apples for our Affy Tapple sale. Anyway, when Ismael got to school, he and his mother went to the social worker's office. The school police were called in case he tried to run away from mom again. (This was all planned yesterday afternoon between the case manager, mom and the Chicago Police Department.) When Ismael was told he was going to the hospital, he became belligerent. The police walked in to help. He became belligerent to the police and started cussing him out. He was handcuffed. He broke down in tears. And they took him to the hospital. He breaks my heart. He really breaks my heart.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Hmmmm
Anecdotals from today, 10/21/2009 [info. in brackets is added for understanding and therapy...you'll see]
9:00 First day back from suspension, ([Ismael is] wearing baggy jeans [might not seem like a big deal unless you read on and have seen the YouTube of the kid who hides guns in his jeans]
[City-Wide Testing Day..scores used to evaluate student and teacher performance]
10:15 As I was helping another student, Ismael said repeatedly under his breath "Shut the fuck up, bitch." Kept repeating "bitch."
10:20 As I was helping another student, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ismael stand up behind me and pretend to overhand stab me with a pencil. I turned to face him and he sat down and continued to pretend to stab me with a pencil. (Another student witnessed.)
10:40 Ismael got up out of seat. I asked him to sit down [mind you, I walked over to him and basically whispered it so not to disturb the students testing]. He told me to "shut the fuck up bitch," then pretneded to shoot me. [He was polite about it, though, he was very quiet about it.]
10:55 I collected all of the test books. Ismael stood up, pretended to shoot me again, then feigned being shot and fell on his chair, graspoing his chest [imitating what a woman would sound like dying. Fabulous.]
9:00 First day back from suspension, ([Ismael is] wearing baggy jeans [might not seem like a big deal unless you read on and have seen the YouTube of the kid who hides guns in his jeans]
[City-Wide Testing Day..scores used to evaluate student and teacher performance]
10:15 As I was helping another student, Ismael said repeatedly under his breath "Shut the fuck up, bitch." Kept repeating "bitch."
10:20 As I was helping another student, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ismael stand up behind me and pretend to overhand stab me with a pencil. I turned to face him and he sat down and continued to pretend to stab me with a pencil. (Another student witnessed.)
10:40 Ismael got up out of seat. I asked him to sit down [mind you, I walked over to him and basically whispered it so not to disturb the students testing]. He told me to "shut the fuck up bitch," then pretneded to shoot me. [He was polite about it, though, he was very quiet about it.]
10:55 I collected all of the test books. Ismael stood up, pretended to shoot me again, then feigned being shot and fell on his chair, graspoing his chest [imitating what a woman would sound like dying. Fabulous.]
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Yell
When a teacher yells, all it does is teach the kids that the teacher is out of control. A good teacher uses behavior management plans, creative lessons, and good old fashion hard work to keeping a class running smoothly. But, I yelled. It was dumb. All I did was let the kids know that I have a breaking point and they found it. Now I am going to pay. They will try to find the breaking point over and over again. If only I could spend my energies planning my lessons and working on behavior management plans. But, this week, I had two 8th grade IEPs on Tuesday that took the entire day, so my class that is full of students who don't do well with change, spent the entire day in different classes doing "independent work." I stayed till 5:15 last night writing one IEP and I still have another one to finish. And, we are getting audited tomorrow by the LRE people, so they'll be observing me, and one of the things they will be looking at are the IEPs. And, I couldn't stay late today because Betty had Irish dance class (and she missed the last two classes), so I tried to get some stuff done while I had my students work on projects, but of course they were throwing gang signs across the room and calling each other names and basically complaining about everything, everything, everything. So, today I yelled. I will try to do better tomorrow.
Friday, October 9, 2009
Q&A
For a transition questionnaire that is asked of eighth graders getting ready for high school (and I read aloud), one question posed was "What concerns do you have about your future?" One student said, "not graduating." I told him, "write that down." He asked, "how do you spell 'not graduating.'"
Another student was given a Q&A. One of the questions was, "What is your best class?" He wrote "batman."
If these make you giggle, that's o.k. But, it's a little sad too. It's quite a range of students with IEPs in the general education classes. (I'll add more anecdotes to this post as they happen. :)
Another student was given a Q&A. One of the questions was, "What is your best class?" He wrote "batman."
If these make you giggle, that's o.k. But, it's a little sad too. It's quite a range of students with IEPs in the general education classes. (I'll add more anecdotes to this post as they happen. :)
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Hoops
When I walked into the office yesterday during my prep period and saw three of my homeroom students (30% of my class) sitting in the waiting area, I knew it was a full moon. And it was.
Ismael cussed out just three too many teachers;
Pedro was chewing off his nails and spitting them across the room; and
Donavan called me a "liar" about 30 times in a 10 minute period as well as announced it every time he caught site of me as I worked in the back office. I can't even remember why he decided I am a liar.
Today, Pedro's mom came in and met with the social worker, and that seemed to go well, since he had a much better day today. I should have been at that meeting, but I was called into another more "important" meeting where I along with the other co-teachers (that's general ed/special ed teachers who team teach) were read an email that we all received and read ourselves last week.
Donovan's parents met with the social worker, the case manager and me in the afternoon to discuss his increasingly belligerent behavior. They have an already-planned psychiatric appointment for him and are finally open to having him on medication, which his doctor has been strongly recommending for two years now.
All of this is good news and I'd like to expand more, but area officers are coming tomorrow to make sure that we are all teaching, so I have to get my hoops ready to jump through. "I can" statements need to be out and about. "I can" do it.
Ismael cussed out just three too many teachers;
Pedro was chewing off his nails and spitting them across the room; and
Donavan called me a "liar" about 30 times in a 10 minute period as well as announced it every time he caught site of me as I worked in the back office. I can't even remember why he decided I am a liar.
Today, Pedro's mom came in and met with the social worker, and that seemed to go well, since he had a much better day today. I should have been at that meeting, but I was called into another more "important" meeting where I along with the other co-teachers (that's general ed/special ed teachers who team teach) were read an email that we all received and read ourselves last week.
Donovan's parents met with the social worker, the case manager and me in the afternoon to discuss his increasingly belligerent behavior. They have an already-planned psychiatric appointment for him and are finally open to having him on medication, which his doctor has been strongly recommending for two years now.
All of this is good news and I'd like to expand more, but area officers are coming tomorrow to make sure that we are all teaching, so I have to get my hoops ready to jump through. "I can" statements need to be out and about. "I can" do it.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Hooky
Being a working mom is fucking hard.
Just picked my 5 year old from dance class. But she wasn't there. She decided to play hooky and play on the playground. So many issues with this scenario, but she is someone who wants to do what she wants when she wants. (She gets it honestly, but lord. I was scared to death when I couldn't find her.)
Just picked my 5 year old from dance class. But she wasn't there. She decided to play hooky and play on the playground. So many issues with this scenario, but she is someone who wants to do what she wants when she wants. (She gets it honestly, but lord. I was scared to death when I couldn't find her.)
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Better
Today was so much better than yesterday....Israel was absent. I hate to say that. But, it's true.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
It's only Tuesday?
I am so tired from today. It feels like a full moon must be on its way. Today, Donovan decided to question everything, I mean everything, and speak very rudely toward me. Another student, Israel, continued to write gang signs on every paper plus some, called me "gangsta" several times, swore left and right, chewed gum continuously, walked around the math room where I co-teach in another teacher's classroom, threw gang signs across the room to another student and basically twittered about as if he were a fly on speed, buzzing, buzzing everywhere.
So, why don't I write the students up or send them to the office for this egregious behavior? Because it really doesn't get me or the student anywhere. It used to before the Bored started closing down the alternative schools. Now, the only place kids with behavioral problems can go is the juvenile detention center. So, I've come to the conclusion that it's best if I try to build a rapport and be the teacher that "understands" and doesn't write them up.
There used to be schools for kids with emotional and behavioral challenges. Small programs, like the one I started my teaching career in, where there is a 6:1 ratio of students to teachers, there are several full time social workers, a full time nurse, two full time occupational therapist, a full time psychologist, and a full time speech pathologist. My CPS school has a a part time social worker, a part time nurse, a part time psychologist (who only does testing--no counseling), and a part time speech pathologist. So, the services that are there to help the students with the most troubles are very scarce.
I used to try really hard to get my students into alternative programs. The ones I thought could benefit. I used to write anecdotals that would be fit for a best-selling biography. But, I've started saving my energies for other things. Three years ago, it finally occurred to me that I was spinning my wheels. I referred a student to the Office of Specialized Services to be evaluated for a behavioral disorder. After going through pages of anecdotals that included a picture of the student killing me and my assistant and blowing up the school, the enlightened behavioral specialist told me--and wrote in her report-- "Ben doesn't have a behavioral problem. Swearing doesn't constitute a behavioral disorder."
The funny thing is that Ben never swore, so I'm not sure what she was talking about.
The sad thing is that less than one month later, Ben shot another student. Fortunately, the student lived.
And Ben did end up in an alternative educational program. The Cook County Juvenile Detention Center.
Ben should be a sophomore in high school now. But, he quit. He's on the street selling drugs.
So, why don't I write the students up or send them to the office for this egregious behavior? Because it really doesn't get me or the student anywhere. It used to before the Bored started closing down the alternative schools. Now, the only place kids with behavioral problems can go is the juvenile detention center. So, I've come to the conclusion that it's best if I try to build a rapport and be the teacher that "understands" and doesn't write them up.
There used to be schools for kids with emotional and behavioral challenges. Small programs, like the one I started my teaching career in, where there is a 6:1 ratio of students to teachers, there are several full time social workers, a full time nurse, two full time occupational therapist, a full time psychologist, and a full time speech pathologist. My CPS school has a a part time social worker, a part time nurse, a part time psychologist (who only does testing--no counseling), and a part time speech pathologist. So, the services that are there to help the students with the most troubles are very scarce.
I used to try really hard to get my students into alternative programs. The ones I thought could benefit. I used to write anecdotals that would be fit for a best-selling biography. But, I've started saving my energies for other things. Three years ago, it finally occurred to me that I was spinning my wheels. I referred a student to the Office of Specialized Services to be evaluated for a behavioral disorder. After going through pages of anecdotals that included a picture of the student killing me and my assistant and blowing up the school, the enlightened behavioral specialist told me--and wrote in her report-- "Ben doesn't have a behavioral problem. Swearing doesn't constitute a behavioral disorder."
The funny thing is that Ben never swore, so I'm not sure what she was talking about.
The sad thing is that less than one month later, Ben shot another student. Fortunately, the student lived.
And Ben did end up in an alternative educational program. The Cook County Juvenile Detention Center.
Ben should be a sophomore in high school now. But, he quit. He's on the street selling drugs.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Mountains and Mole Hills
I hate to be a trader to my gender, but working with mostly women is like reliving high school. If you say something to one person, it goes through a telephone line, gets completely warped and in the end, friends are mad at each other for something that didn't even happen. Oy. Vey.
More students are doing their reading logs. I decided to "punish" them separately. See, I was originally going to have every student who did not do their reading log have a silent lunch. But, then I decided that would solidify their coup and I would never get anyone to read. So, now I am randomly selecting a student log and if that student did his/her work, he/she gets 50 cents to buy the yummy cookies the lunch lady sells. If the log is missing, then they have a silent lunch. I'm only going to do this a couple weeks or they'll expect to be paid for everything. I really just want them reading, reading, reading.
That's all for now.
More students are doing their reading logs. I decided to "punish" them separately. See, I was originally going to have every student who did not do their reading log have a silent lunch. But, then I decided that would solidify their coup and I would never get anyone to read. So, now I am randomly selecting a student log and if that student did his/her work, he/she gets 50 cents to buy the yummy cookies the lunch lady sells. If the log is missing, then they have a silent lunch. I'm only going to do this a couple weeks or they'll expect to be paid for everything. I really just want them reading, reading, reading.
That's all for now.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Fighting Windmills
Only ONE of my eighth graders has done their reading homework.
Maybe it's too hard? Maybe it's not fair?
All they have to do is read for 20 minutes and summarize what they are reading in just one sentence or two. I just gave them time to do it and only two of the four who are in here now chose to do it. The rest decided to stare into space.
I could cry.
Maybe it's too hard? Maybe it's not fair?
All they have to do is read for 20 minutes and summarize what they are reading in just one sentence or two. I just gave them time to do it and only two of the four who are in here now chose to do it. The rest decided to stare into space.
I could cry.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Good News
Today, I found out that all the classes I took prior to getting my masters will count toward endorsing my certificate. However, this was told to me by a DePaul University adviser and I was told the opposite by ISBE (Illinois State Board of Education.)
Tomorrow is my first Union meeting with the teachers. Little nervous. But, I'm doing my best.
Must go to bed. Am very tired.
Tomorrow is my first Union meeting with the teachers. Little nervous. But, I'm doing my best.
Must go to bed. Am very tired.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Bill Clinton nor George Bush can teach Here
Do you realize that Bill Clinton nor George Bush--elder or younger--are qualified to teach social science in the middle school grades in the Chicago Public School System. This fact makes me feel better that I am not either.
I've been teaching 7th and 8th graders the majority of my time as a teacher. I love it. My heart goes out to them. The difference between what a child is like when he/she starts 7th grade is enormous to how he/she is when 8th grade graduation occurs. At this age, the emotional part of a child's brain is growing much faster than the rational part of the brain. This is a scientific fact. And many parents and teachers are bewildered at how emotional 7th and 8th graders can be. It's the terrible twos all over again with a large helping of hormones poured on top.
I had a student last year tell me to "shut the "f" up." A half hour later this same student--a boy with an emotional disorder--was sitting at my desk crying because he was missing his late father. By the end of the day he was as cheerful as can be and volunteering answers. And, if I do say so myself, it takes a strong constitution to handle the ups and downs, the trials and tribulations, the pride and disappointment felt in minutes when dealing with students in the middle grades.
In addition to teaching middle school students for at least 7 years, I have also been teaching them social science. I have absolutely fallen in love with the subject. I teach all the subjects, but I particularly love teaching them social science. Middle School students often feel helpless to authority at the same time being told to act like an adult. Teaching the students their Constitutional rights empowers them. Teaching them about the young people throughout history who have altered the course of the world grabs their attention and, again, empowers them. Teaching them about the different parts of the world ignites curiousity that motivates them to do better so they can see the world around them first hand.
But, I'm not qualified to teach it anymore.
The Illinois State Board of Education, in all its magnificent glory, has rewritten the rules and moved the goal line once again. Now a teacher needs to be endorsed in the middle school grades and the subjects they teach, even if they have been teaching these grades and subjects for years now. Doesn't count.
So, Bill Clinton, George H W Bush and George W Bush, you need not apply. Harvard will take you. Yale will take you. Georgetown, Stanford and Oakton Community College. But, sorry. You don't have enough credentials here, at CPS.
I've been teaching 7th and 8th graders the majority of my time as a teacher. I love it. My heart goes out to them. The difference between what a child is like when he/she starts 7th grade is enormous to how he/she is when 8th grade graduation occurs. At this age, the emotional part of a child's brain is growing much faster than the rational part of the brain. This is a scientific fact. And many parents and teachers are bewildered at how emotional 7th and 8th graders can be. It's the terrible twos all over again with a large helping of hormones poured on top.
I had a student last year tell me to "shut the "f" up." A half hour later this same student--a boy with an emotional disorder--was sitting at my desk crying because he was missing his late father. By the end of the day he was as cheerful as can be and volunteering answers. And, if I do say so myself, it takes a strong constitution to handle the ups and downs, the trials and tribulations, the pride and disappointment felt in minutes when dealing with students in the middle grades.
In addition to teaching middle school students for at least 7 years, I have also been teaching them social science. I have absolutely fallen in love with the subject. I teach all the subjects, but I particularly love teaching them social science. Middle School students often feel helpless to authority at the same time being told to act like an adult. Teaching the students their Constitutional rights empowers them. Teaching them about the young people throughout history who have altered the course of the world grabs their attention and, again, empowers them. Teaching them about the different parts of the world ignites curiousity that motivates them to do better so they can see the world around them first hand.
But, I'm not qualified to teach it anymore.
The Illinois State Board of Education, in all its magnificent glory, has rewritten the rules and moved the goal line once again. Now a teacher needs to be endorsed in the middle school grades and the subjects they teach, even if they have been teaching these grades and subjects for years now. Doesn't count.
So, Bill Clinton, George H W Bush and George W Bush, you need not apply. Harvard will take you. Yale will take you. Georgetown, Stanford and Oakton Community College. But, sorry. You don't have enough credentials here, at CPS.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Yaaaawwwwwnnnnnn
I set a goal to write on my blog every night.
I didn't last night.
After school, I went straight to the Union meeting.
Then I dragged myself home.
It's not that I was so tired that I forgot.
It's that I was sssssssssssssssssooooooooooooooo tired, I fell asleep.
So, here I am now.
Tomorrow I have an appointment with the interim principal to discuss why my special education students with learning disabilities and read at a 3rd grade level do not meet expectations on the ISATs.
This is the same interim principal in her second day of leadership asked my fellow special education teacher why all her students fell into the category of "below expectations" in reading on the ISATs. This teacher tried to explain to the interim that her students have learning disabilities (which if they are classified as such that means a psychologist had to make that call and that call is made if a child is performing at least 2 stanines below their intelligence quotient).
The interim's response, "Well, we'll set it up so you can watch a special education program that works."
Really. Show mewhere studetns who read at 1st, 2nd, 3rd grade levels can meet or exceed expectations on a 6th grade level reading test. If there is any out there, sign me up. I'll pay to check it out.
That's not to say we have low expectations for our kids. Facts are facts. A diabetic is not going to suddenly start making insulin because he is trying hard. No matter what "The Secret" says.
Several of our students with LD do meet or even exceed expectations on the math and science portions of the ISATs. This was not the case for reading where they ALL fell into the categories of "below expectations" or "academic warning"--the lowest of the classifications. Well, we can READ the math and science tests to the SWDs (students with disabilities). In fact, we're provided with scripts and audio CDs. However, we cannot provide ANY modifications for reading except for extended time. Now, I ask you, how can a student meet expectations on the ISATs if their form of dyslexia, let's say, has them reading at a 2nd grade level, according, again, to a psychologist, but are expected to read, retain and answer questions pertaining to a passage written at the 7th grade level.
It would be like giving me a phonetically spelled out test in Chinese. I could sound out the words, but I would have absolutely no idea what I had comprehended. And you could give me all the time in the world, and I still would not meet or exceed expectations....unless I got lucky in my guessing.
Now about that Union meeting.
More on that later....feeling very sleepy.
G'night
I didn't last night.
After school, I went straight to the Union meeting.
Then I dragged myself home.
It's not that I was so tired that I forgot.
It's that I was sssssssssssssssssooooooooooooooo tired, I fell asleep.
So, here I am now.
Tomorrow I have an appointment with the interim principal to discuss why my special education students with learning disabilities and read at a 3rd grade level do not meet expectations on the ISATs.
This is the same interim principal in her second day of leadership asked my fellow special education teacher why all her students fell into the category of "below expectations" in reading on the ISATs. This teacher tried to explain to the interim that her students have learning disabilities (which if they are classified as such that means a psychologist had to make that call and that call is made if a child is performing at least 2 stanines below their intelligence quotient).
The interim's response, "Well, we'll set it up so you can watch a special education program that works."
Really. Show mewhere studetns who read at 1st, 2nd, 3rd grade levels can meet or exceed expectations on a 6th grade level reading test. If there is any out there, sign me up. I'll pay to check it out.
That's not to say we have low expectations for our kids. Facts are facts. A diabetic is not going to suddenly start making insulin because he is trying hard. No matter what "The Secret" says.
Several of our students with LD do meet or even exceed expectations on the math and science portions of the ISATs. This was not the case for reading where they ALL fell into the categories of "below expectations" or "academic warning"--the lowest of the classifications. Well, we can READ the math and science tests to the SWDs (students with disabilities). In fact, we're provided with scripts and audio CDs. However, we cannot provide ANY modifications for reading except for extended time. Now, I ask you, how can a student meet expectations on the ISATs if their form of dyslexia, let's say, has them reading at a 2nd grade level, according, again, to a psychologist, but are expected to read, retain and answer questions pertaining to a passage written at the 7th grade level.
It would be like giving me a phonetically spelled out test in Chinese. I could sound out the words, but I would have absolutely no idea what I had comprehended. And you could give me all the time in the world, and I still would not meet or exceed expectations....unless I got lucky in my guessing.
Now about that Union meeting.
More on that later....feeling very sleepy.
G'night
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Great First Day!
I had a great first day!!!
One of my students, a selective mute, read out loud to me and spoke to me. I thought it would take weeks, but I just did what Torey Hayden, a fabulous novelist who writes about her experiences as a special education teacher. She says to let a person who is selectively mute to speak to you first. Don't speak to them. I didn't. I was prepared for this to take months and months, but it only took one day. I gave the class directions, of course, and he's in the class, but I didn't speak to him one-on-one. When it was time for him to read to me, I just pointed to the words and he read them. Very quietly. I could barely hear him, but he definitely spoke the words "Put out the fire." Then when I asked him how his day was at the end of the day, he said, again in barely a whisper, "good." But he said it.
Now for Ismael. He is diagnosed with ADHD, his mother is a known gang banger, and if you ask her about him, she says, in front of the poor boy, "this one is my trouble maker. I don't like him." So, I'm going easy on him. He swore several times, he got hyper excited by the end of the day, was listening to an MP3 Player and was asked two or three times to put it away. I will have to think of rewards, rewards, rewards for him.
The two students who went to the office to complain about me last year (which, is a fairly common occurence with special ed., middle school boys with emotional disorders, but still doesn't feel good), were very courteous, followed directions and told me they wanted to stay in my class. Yay for me! Yay for me! Yay for me!
Bye for now. Here's hoping to a great second day!!!
One of my students, a selective mute, read out loud to me and spoke to me. I thought it would take weeks, but I just did what Torey Hayden, a fabulous novelist who writes about her experiences as a special education teacher. She says to let a person who is selectively mute to speak to you first. Don't speak to them. I didn't. I was prepared for this to take months and months, but it only took one day. I gave the class directions, of course, and he's in the class, but I didn't speak to him one-on-one. When it was time for him to read to me, I just pointed to the words and he read them. Very quietly. I could barely hear him, but he definitely spoke the words "Put out the fire." Then when I asked him how his day was at the end of the day, he said, again in barely a whisper, "good." But he said it.
Now for Ismael. He is diagnosed with ADHD, his mother is a known gang banger, and if you ask her about him, she says, in front of the poor boy, "this one is my trouble maker. I don't like him." So, I'm going easy on him. He swore several times, he got hyper excited by the end of the day, was listening to an MP3 Player and was asked two or three times to put it away. I will have to think of rewards, rewards, rewards for him.
The two students who went to the office to complain about me last year (which, is a fairly common occurence with special ed., middle school boys with emotional disorders, but still doesn't feel good), were very courteous, followed directions and told me they wanted to stay in my class. Yay for me! Yay for me! Yay for me!
Bye for now. Here's hoping to a great second day!!!
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Friday, September 4, 2009
Silliness
This year, I am finally moving to a room that is sandwiched between the 7th and 8th grade general education rooms. This is great for my students because it minimizes transitions as well as the stigma of walking down the long walk of shame to the special education room. Now it's just a room in the middle school wing.
But, not only is this room included in the middle school wing, it is smaller than the previous room, the windows are permanently clouded, and it has carpeting. The small area will help reduce off-task behavior because there are fewer places for students to walk/run to and the desks are such that it's more comfortable to be at a work station than in an open area that provides no real educational benefit. The clouded windows will completely reduce students' desire to look out into the streets to spy on the goings on at the corner "store" because it is absolutely impossible to see through the windows and the corner "store" cannot be seen from 204. Finally, the gross green carpeting in the bright orange 204 is a beautiful welcome because it will greatly reduce noise.
The only negative of switching rooms is the actual switching rooms process. Half of Wednesday and most of today was spent carting supplies like computers, desks, chairs, and lots and lots of books from room 218 to room 204. I got a lot of the things into the room on Wednesday; Thursday was spent listening to one sad fact after another; and today was spent taking the computers off their broken carts and put onto tables (with a fellow teacher and her mother connecting them for me), arranging the desks so that everyone can see the board but won't be blocked by the overhead projector, arranging the file cabinets, setting up the copy machine, arranging the desks, finding enough chairs for my students, bleaching everything--everything, hanging up bulletin board paper and corresponding boarders (which is quite a challenge when you're 4'11"), and putting all the books that are in room 204 so far onto shelves.
The printers for the computers don't work and two of the screens are dying.
The desks are cleaned by the graffiti is still visible.
The overhead projector is dirty and I haven't come across the pens yet.
When I moved the file cabinets, I smashed my finger and think I may have chipped a joint.
The pastel-flowered contact paper is still stuck on the cabinets.
I haven't tested the copy machine to see if it's working.
The bulletin boards are empty.
I don't have all the books from 218, including the books I need to start science lessons.
So, why not stay late or go in on the weekend. Teachers are professionals, right? Well, CPS teachers are not allowed in the building unless there is an administrator, so at 4:00 this afternoon, the school was closed, and it won't be open until Tuesday morning when students return. So, lesson plans will be written at home and everything else will be done in a whirlwind atnd at the last minute early Tuesday morning.
But, not only is this room included in the middle school wing, it is smaller than the previous room, the windows are permanently clouded, and it has carpeting. The small area will help reduce off-task behavior because there are fewer places for students to walk/run to and the desks are such that it's more comfortable to be at a work station than in an open area that provides no real educational benefit. The clouded windows will completely reduce students' desire to look out into the streets to spy on the goings on at the corner "store" because it is absolutely impossible to see through the windows and the corner "store" cannot be seen from 204. Finally, the gross green carpeting in the bright orange 204 is a beautiful welcome because it will greatly reduce noise.
The only negative of switching rooms is the actual switching rooms process. Half of Wednesday and most of today was spent carting supplies like computers, desks, chairs, and lots and lots of books from room 218 to room 204. I got a lot of the things into the room on Wednesday; Thursday was spent listening to one sad fact after another; and today was spent taking the computers off their broken carts and put onto tables (with a fellow teacher and her mother connecting them for me), arranging the desks so that everyone can see the board but won't be blocked by the overhead projector, arranging the file cabinets, setting up the copy machine, arranging the desks, finding enough chairs for my students, bleaching everything--everything, hanging up bulletin board paper and corresponding boarders (which is quite a challenge when you're 4'11"), and putting all the books that are in room 204 so far onto shelves.
The printers for the computers don't work and two of the screens are dying.
The desks are cleaned by the graffiti is still visible.
The overhead projector is dirty and I haven't come across the pens yet.
When I moved the file cabinets, I smashed my finger and think I may have chipped a joint.
The pastel-flowered contact paper is still stuck on the cabinets.
I haven't tested the copy machine to see if it's working.
The bulletin boards are empty.
I don't have all the books from 218, including the books I need to start science lessons.
So, why not stay late or go in on the weekend. Teachers are professionals, right? Well, CPS teachers are not allowed in the building unless there is an administrator, so at 4:00 this afternoon, the school was closed, and it won't be open until Tuesday morning when students return. So, lesson plans will be written at home and everything else will be done in a whirlwind atnd at the last minute early Tuesday morning.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Abysmal
All the excitement of getting back to school and setting up the year was completely squashed today when the ISAT numbers were revealed. Oy Vey is all I have to say right now. It took me two hours to finally get connected, and I need to parent. I will write more later about the info. we heard today.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Teachers are slobs
Apparently teachers are dirty slobs who eat their food like famished animals at a trough. This is the conclusion I've come to since the board, in all its glory, is making us give breakfast in the classroom to our students under its new "Universal Breakfast Program", but we are still not allowed to eat lunch at our desks.
We can be trusted to pass out food, supervise the eating and the cleaning up (all in 10 minutes BTW) of 30 students, but we cannot be trusted to eat our own lunch at our own desks. What? Really?
Oh, and according to the glorious board, the Universal Breakfast, which will be provided during the mandatory block reading time, will not negatively affect student performance on the oh-so-fabulous test that determine everything from graduating to funding teacher positions.
I will definitely keep you posted on this one!
We can be trusted to pass out food, supervise the eating and the cleaning up (all in 10 minutes BTW) of 30 students, but we cannot be trusted to eat our own lunch at our own desks. What? Really?
Oh, and according to the glorious board, the Universal Breakfast, which will be provided during the mandatory block reading time, will not negatively affect student performance on the oh-so-fabulous test that determine everything from graduating to funding teacher positions.
I will definitely keep you posted on this one!
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Ready
Hair is freshly colored and highlighted. Car is washed. Cash for lunch, bags by the door. Ready for the first day back.
(Will get pedi/mani and oil changed before the kids return on Tuesday.)
(Will get pedi/mani and oil changed before the kids return on Tuesday.)
Monday, August 31, 2009
Betty goes to private school
Today, we dropped our daughter off to her first day of kindergarten. She has been in daycare her whole life, so it wasn't a heart string tugging moment as it might be for other parents. And Betty* couldn't wait to run through the doors of her Catholic school. And, yes, I am a public school teacher and send her to private school and I have no qualms about that at all. Even though you might.
From time to time articles and OpEds appear in the local newspapers purporting disgust that public school teachers send their kids to private schools. The tone of these pieces all seem to imply, and some state out right, that there must be something wrong with the teachers. Wrong. The teachers in the Chicago Public School systems are devoted, highly educated, individuals who believe in giving the best to some of the neediest students. I would be thrilled to have any of my colleagues teach my child, but not in a CPS school. The classrooms are too crowded and the security system, espeically in the elementary schools, is weak.
My family lives in a very nice neighborhood with one of the best public schools in the Chicago Public School System walking distance from our home. In fact, Arne Duncan, the Secretary of Education for the United States of America, often points to this school as an example of what a public, urban, school can be. And it is a very good school. There is a fabulous art program; local businesses sponsor events in conjunction with the school that nurture and excite the neighborhood kids; after-school programs abound; and a summer camp provides much needed care for many kids with working parents.
But, when we were investigating schools for Betty, my good friends took a tour of this neighborhood school. My good friend who has heard the stories that I am blahging asked the parent guide: "How is security?" The answer from the tour guide was "poor, but we're working on it."
So, Betty goes to private school.
I teach in a pre-k to 8 school. There are no metal detectors. And there are gangs. Last year for the CPS writing test, the question posed to the students was "what is one thing you would do to improve your school." Paper after paper from the kids suggested better security and metal detectors because as one young scholar wrote, "kids come to school with weapons."
Betty goes to private school.
I'm not naive. I'm sure Betty's private school has problems. And I'm sure there are students who have attended who have been diagnosed with behavioral problems. But, you know what? If a kid comes to Betty's school with a weapon. That student would be kicked out the next day. Two years ago, I had a student come to school with a knife. He was suspended for three days instead of ten because as was explained to me by a higher up, "the knife was less than ten inches long and was not serated."
So, seriously, can you blame me for sending Betty to private school?
*Names changed
From time to time articles and OpEds appear in the local newspapers purporting disgust that public school teachers send their kids to private schools. The tone of these pieces all seem to imply, and some state out right, that there must be something wrong with the teachers. Wrong. The teachers in the Chicago Public School systems are devoted, highly educated, individuals who believe in giving the best to some of the neediest students. I would be thrilled to have any of my colleagues teach my child, but not in a CPS school. The classrooms are too crowded and the security system, espeically in the elementary schools, is weak.
My family lives in a very nice neighborhood with one of the best public schools in the Chicago Public School System walking distance from our home. In fact, Arne Duncan, the Secretary of Education for the United States of America, often points to this school as an example of what a public, urban, school can be. And it is a very good school. There is a fabulous art program; local businesses sponsor events in conjunction with the school that nurture and excite the neighborhood kids; after-school programs abound; and a summer camp provides much needed care for many kids with working parents.
But, when we were investigating schools for Betty, my good friends took a tour of this neighborhood school. My good friend who has heard the stories that I am blahging asked the parent guide: "How is security?" The answer from the tour guide was "poor, but we're working on it."
So, Betty goes to private school.
I teach in a pre-k to 8 school. There are no metal detectors. And there are gangs. Last year for the CPS writing test, the question posed to the students was "what is one thing you would do to improve your school." Paper after paper from the kids suggested better security and metal detectors because as one young scholar wrote, "kids come to school with weapons."
Betty goes to private school.
I'm not naive. I'm sure Betty's private school has problems. And I'm sure there are students who have attended who have been diagnosed with behavioral problems. But, you know what? If a kid comes to Betty's school with a weapon. That student would be kicked out the next day. Two years ago, I had a student come to school with a knife. He was suspended for three days instead of ten because as was explained to me by a higher up, "the knife was less than ten inches long and was not serated."
So, seriously, can you blame me for sending Betty to private school?
*Names changed
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Blahg
Five years after purchasing a laptop for the sole purpose of writing a blahg, I am finally venturing forth. It's 12:11 a.m., two nights before the first day of school. And as with every year since 1975, I cannot sleep with the start of a new academic year so close.
As a student, I was awake with anticipation and excitement. I couldn't wait to find out what I would be learning. I loved the smell of the textbooks, and reading through the table of contents, guessing how far through the text we would make it. As a new teacher, I couldn't wait to set up the year's curriculum, the seating chart, the classroom bulletin boards.
It's my 8th year of teaching.
Now, my mind is racing, gearing up for battle. Ready to fight the good fight. And it is a fight.
I'm a middle school teacher, after all.
And not just a middle school teacher, a special education teacher.
And not just a special education teacher of middle school students, but one of students with emotional disorders in a neighborhood ruled by gangs.
And with each passing year, it feels more and more like a fight. Not just a fight, but a war. A war against poverty, drugs, gangs, ignorance and hopelessness.
I eat, sleep and breathe this job. I ache for my students to see passed the present, and I all too often see them on street corners dealing, smoking, representin'.
There is an almost 50% drop out rate of high school students in Chicago. One hundred percent of my 2004 8th grade homeroom students has dropped out or gotten kicked out of high school. (Albeit, as a special education teacher, I have a small homeroom and 2004 saw just four students. But, still. It's depressing.) I wonder how many students with IEPs make up that 50% drop out rate. I would guess at least 80%. And I would bet that in 99.9% of the dropout cases, there was a teacher along the way begging some case manager to evaluate the student for special needs. How do I find this out? I don't know. But this is one of the goals of this blahg. I am going to add one more fight to the cause and see if I can dig up some information. I will keep you posted.
The other goals I have are less inspiring. One is simply to approach the new school year in a new light to avoid complete burnout. This year I am looking at my classroom as a research project. Perhaps it will improve my teaching; perhaps getting the word out to the digital abyss will interest one reader who is inspired to figure something out to help in a way that I have not yet thought about?
Another goal is to decompress. I have some challenging students in my homeroom this year. I've already bought my new shoes for the school year---sneakers.
It's taken me five years to finally begin the blahgging. And now that I have, I plan to write at the end of every school day for at least one school year (and any nights when my insomnia kicks in). I imagine some days I will be inspired to go on and on, as I have done tonight. And other days, I might only have left in me one or two swear words. Who knows? I'll keep you posted....whoever you are.
As a student, I was awake with anticipation and excitement. I couldn't wait to find out what I would be learning. I loved the smell of the textbooks, and reading through the table of contents, guessing how far through the text we would make it. As a new teacher, I couldn't wait to set up the year's curriculum, the seating chart, the classroom bulletin boards.
It's my 8th year of teaching.
Now, my mind is racing, gearing up for battle. Ready to fight the good fight. And it is a fight.
I'm a middle school teacher, after all.
And not just a middle school teacher, a special education teacher.
And not just a special education teacher of middle school students, but one of students with emotional disorders in a neighborhood ruled by gangs.
And with each passing year, it feels more and more like a fight. Not just a fight, but a war. A war against poverty, drugs, gangs, ignorance and hopelessness.
I eat, sleep and breathe this job. I ache for my students to see passed the present, and I all too often see them on street corners dealing, smoking, representin'.
There is an almost 50% drop out rate of high school students in Chicago. One hundred percent of my 2004 8th grade homeroom students has dropped out or gotten kicked out of high school. (Albeit, as a special education teacher, I have a small homeroom and 2004 saw just four students. But, still. It's depressing.) I wonder how many students with IEPs make up that 50% drop out rate. I would guess at least 80%. And I would bet that in 99.9% of the dropout cases, there was a teacher along the way begging some case manager to evaluate the student for special needs. How do I find this out? I don't know. But this is one of the goals of this blahg. I am going to add one more fight to the cause and see if I can dig up some information. I will keep you posted.
The other goals I have are less inspiring. One is simply to approach the new school year in a new light to avoid complete burnout. This year I am looking at my classroom as a research project. Perhaps it will improve my teaching; perhaps getting the word out to the digital abyss will interest one reader who is inspired to figure something out to help in a way that I have not yet thought about?
Another goal is to decompress. I have some challenging students in my homeroom this year. I've already bought my new shoes for the school year---sneakers.
It's taken me five years to finally begin the blahgging. And now that I have, I plan to write at the end of every school day for at least one school year (and any nights when my insomnia kicks in). I imagine some days I will be inspired to go on and on, as I have done tonight. And other days, I might only have left in me one or two swear words. Who knows? I'll keep you posted....whoever you are.
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