Teachers should be happy. No one has pensions anymore!

But teachers don't get social security.

Let me repeat that: teachers do not get social security.

Teachers cannot individually negotiate salary increases during their annual reviews as those in the corporate world do. As I did when I was in the corporate world.

Teachers need collective bargaining rights.

I have to say, I'm a pretty damn good negotiator. I miss being able to negotiate my salary. But, my administrator has no power to increase my salary or not because the budget is decided by legislators who the people have elected.

So, if she thinks I'm worth $250,000, which I am, she can't pay me that.

Perhaps, if the yahoos at Lehman Brothers had been tied to a scheduled salary and a multi-year contract, we would not be in the state we are in now. Teachers didn't create this mess. Unions did not create this mess. It's time to get angry at Wall Street. Not Main Street.

The IEP.Part I

What is an IEP? It is an Individualized Education Plan for students with special needs. Just thinking about them makes me tired.

IEPs are supposed to be written so that teachers know what educational goals are obtainable by the individual student, as well as how to accommodate such students when they are in the teachers' classrooms as well as what modifications can be made to help them succeed in school. They can be quite useful. If you are a teacher who has a student coming into your class who has Asperger's, then the IEP should provide a lot of useful tips on how to include the student in your class.

But, we're in Chicago. And because of the Corey H. lawsuit that basically said that "Corey H." was unfairly excluded from the general education classroom, and placed in too restrictive of a classroom, CPS has gone nuts on "fine tuning" the IEP in an attempt, I assume, to avoid lawsuits. CPS would argue that it is to help students with special needs access the general education curriculum. I don't think so. The current version of he IEP that CPS uses (not only do states have different IEPs, but virtually every district in Illinois can have a different version) is a document that is written with so many mandated details that it is now a great piece of writing for lawyers to mull over. And it's stupid.

Why? Because it requires that teachers write narratives of test scores. Let's say a student achieves a scale score of 250, which places them in a stanine of 3, in the 8th percentile, and in the "below standards" category. (These numbers might not add up and I am too tired at this point to use an actual example by clicking into the very slow Impact web site that has my students' scores.) Now, the general education teachers have approximately 30 students. The middle school teachers have approximately 90 students since they see several homerooms. The high school teachers, can have about 200 students. Now, with SWDs (students with disabilities) being included in more general education classes (something that I did not originally agree with but have made a 360 on) the g.e. teachers must familiarize themselves with their SWDs and their IEPs.

So what?

Well, that's a lot of IEPs to read. As a special education teacher, I don't want to add more work to my colleague, the g.e. teacher. I want them to feel confident that they can accommodate my students and to not feel burdened by their inclusion. So, as most teachers would tell you, provide as much information as quickly as possible. So to make things easy, it would make sense to snapshot the scores of the above mentioned student as such:

ISAT Reading Score 2010-2011

Scale Score 250

Stanine 3

Percentile 8

Rank "Below Standards"

Right? Is that easy to understand?

But, nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnoooooooooooooooooooooo. I have to write a narrative. Therefore, I add noun determiners, verbs and adjectives. So, then the above turns to "On the 2010-2011 reading portion of the ISATs, student A achieved a scale score of 250, which places him in a stanine of 3, the 8th percentile, and ranks him below standards."

Now the powers that be will tell you that they want a little more explanation. O.k. "Student A scored below standard due to his learning disability that negatively affects his ability to read at grade level."

But, wait. It gets better. This information is one of the many sections included on the "Language and General Considerations" portion of the IEP. Where I have to write the actual goals for reading, I have to also include the ISAT information. But, I am not supposed to cut and paste. Therefore, I have to move the noun determiners, the adjectives, the verbs, the scores, and my ingenious observations around a bit. Because God forbid I cut and paste information that is relevant as it is.

Well, my battery is about to die and I am going to take that as a sign that I should stop here. I will add more later. (It gets better.)

Let Me Make Something Perfectly Clear

I love my school. I have a great principal and am surrounded by professional, dedicated teachers. I have students hungry to be the best they can be as they struggle to figure out what that is for themselves. Chalkboard Warrior, in recent posts, turned into a sounding board of my daily frustrations. I blame this on the just juggling too many balls. That is not the point of this blog. The point is to show how policies--all I believe well intentioned--are implemented on the ground, often creating paperwork, but no real improvement in education. Not all policies mind you. There have been some that I believed were ridiculous that I now admit have benefited my students. There are others that could benefit students but compete with other policies and therefore make it impossible for teachers to fully implement. But, I have digressed. This blog entry is to make perfectly clear that this blog is not about my current school in the least bit. I love my school. It is a beacon of hope in the midst of chaos. I am very thankful to be located at a school where I feel happy and lucky to spend my days there.

My next few posts will be dedicated to IEPs. What are IEPs? Check back in a week. :)

I'm back

I just posted my final project for the course I'm taking to get middle school certified. Balancing work, mothering, etc., etc., the whole thing took a lot longer than I had planned. And I have been neglecting my blog for so long that half the chalkboards in my room are now whiteboards. But I'm still a warrior and will be posting more often in the new year, and hopefully the quality of the posts will increase. (Lately, they've been rants and whines, which is not my goal here.) It's is 10:30 at night, and I'm going to get some Zs. Will be back soon.

ChalkboardWarrior's response to CEO's announcement

Just a rant about how Ron Huberman's announcement that he is stepping down highlights silly policies. Below is a post I tried to add to the Trib's article, but it wouldn't take. So here it is:

If only teachers had the same luxury of leaving their jobs to pursue another when a change in administration is about to take place. But they don't. In fact, teachers who are laid off have to resubmit all their records and do a second background check even if they have served the students of CPS for 17 years and have only had a gap in service for two days. This is a fact. When said teacher asked Human Resources why they had to go through all this again when they were only out of the system for two days, the callous response was "Because we don't know what you could have done in two days." Nice.

Furthermore, teachers cannot leave their position for a position at another school without an approved transfer from their current boss. Teachers who leave in the middle of the year are often fleeing abusive or inept principals. The likelihood of such a principal signing a transfer is next to nil.

Perhaps Mr. Huberman would like to try out teaching? Oh. Wait. That's right, he is not qualified to teach in the classroom. This is not a reflection on Mr. Huberman, but the ridiculous policies governing, or as I like to say, impeding, education. Huberman should be allowed to teach in the classroom. He has valuable worldly and business experience that could benefit many students. But the State of Illinois won't let him. Silly.

September 27 and schedule hasn't started

Sorry to take so long to write. But, I am still working hard to figure out my schedule and who is reporting what grades for each of my students in special education. This should be done before school starts, right? Oh, yes. Why isn't it? Because of craziness that I will write about in more detail once my lesson plans are finally written and testing ends. It should end Thursday. First true entry will be entered the following week.

When I Get Shot

A diary entry from 2005:

When do I cross the line from helping to enabling? I keep running into this question year after year. I work with many families with little or no money who often need help from the mental health community. I work with students with disabilities. Specifically, middle school children with emotional disorders and/or learning problems. Every now and then I have a student in desperate need of services outside the realm of what a school is equipped to give. Such is the case for Kelvin.

Kelvin is a student in my class who has suffered great losses this year. Kelvin’s baby brother died earlier this year, his favorite aunt was killed in a bizarre car accident two months later, and an uncle passed away two weeks after his aunt died. To say he has had a string of bad luck is an understatement.

Any one of these tragedies is enough to bring an adult to his knees. But, not Kelvin. The day of his brother’s funeral he came to school after the burial so that he wouldn’t ruin his perfect attendance. And the day after hearing of his aunt’s death, he came to school “to make her proud.”

But, as is common for anyone dealing with tragedies, Kelvin started having problems. He would suddenly start crying. He began to withdraw from friends. And as is common for adolescent boys dealing with difficult emotions, Kelvin started lashing out and getting in trouble more and more.

Yesterday, the counselor, social worker, assistant principal and I met with Kelvin’s parents to discuss how we could get him more help. We told them about a program. The parents were receptive. So, we started moving forward. Because his parents are one of the millions of functioning illiterates in America, we called the clinic to make the appointment, we called the insurance company to ensure that the services would be covered, we provided a letter to the hospital describing our observations and concerns, we provided three pages of anecdotals, and we had a cab take them to in-take where Kelvin was immediately placed into their outpatient day school. His mother was offered free bus passes, but she declined, saying she would be able to get him there. Kelvin would start the program the next day—today.

Relief. All the elements had come together. Today Kelvin would be getting the help he so desperately needs.

This morning I drove into work feeling good. I took a detour from my regular morning route to treat myself to a café mocha and spent a little extra time in the parking lot savoring the sunny morning and listening to the radio before walking into the school.

And there was Kelvin. With him were his father and grandmother. It was 8:30. The program, more than an hour away from our school, was expecting Kelvin to be in its class at 9:00.

Despair.

The father said he had no way of getting Kelvin to the school. I informed him that the mother had declined bus passes because she said she would get Kelvin there. The father said he wasn’t aware of that because he hadn’t gone to the clinic with her and hadn’t spoken to her since yesterday. So, we got him bus passes.

The father asked me for the address. I went on the Internet, got the address, wrote it down, gave it and read it to him. The father asked me what bus line should he take.

I got back on the Internet and searched the CTA routes. As I was explaining the directions to the father and Kelvin, his little grandmother started yelling at me: “The school needs to provide transportation; you need to get him there.” At this point, I was tapped. I just didn’t have an ounce of energy left in me to be diplomatic, so I just ignored the grandmother and said to the father, “You really need to start going; he’s already late.”

And I am sapped. Kelvin is at a crossroads. He lives in the projects. Gangs are trying to recruit him. He has a severe learning disability. He has serious mental health issues. Yet, he is very good with computers, speaks eloquently and can be very sympathetic to others in need. He has a smile that just melts your heart. Is it enough?

Kelvin and I were once having one of those student-teacher talks where we were discussing what our futures would look like in five years, 10 years time. He started telling me, “When I get shot…”

I stopped him.

“What do you mean ‘when I get shot?’ I asked incredulously.

“Ms. Blogger,” he said matter-of-factly, “everyone in my neighborhood gets shot.”

He then continued with his story, telling me how his father would hunt down and kill the shooters. I must have had an inquisitive look on my face, because he said, “Well, of course, I mean if I don’t get killed. I mean if I just get hurt from the bullets.”

I told him aside from television and movies I had never actually heard a gun shot.

Now he was incredulous. “You’ve never heard a gun shot?”

“No.”

“I hear them every night.”

“How do you sleep?” I asked him.

“Fine,” he said. “I just put the pillow over my head so I don’t hear nothin’.”

Will Kelvin make it?

Can I help him?

I just don’t know.

I want to say every child can be saved. Every child can have a future. But, how much gumption does a child need?

With every fiber of my being I want Kelvin to have a wonderful life. But. I just don’t know.

(Sidenote: Kelvin and Paz were best friends when I taught them. Paz is lying in an almost vegetative state, recovering from the bullet that entered the back of his head and exited his forehead, at the City Hospital. I asked his mother if Kelvin knows. She did not know. Last we heard, Kelvin had dropped out of high school and was in an opposing gang. Maybe it's better that Kelvin does not know.)