Folks, there is a revolution going on — and the kids at Effingham High School are on the cutting edge. WOW! It’s almost unbelievable some of the things I saw in Illinois.

First off, it’s easy to see why Joe Fatheree is NEA’s 2009 Teacher of the Year. From the relationship he has with his students to the rigor he demands in his curriculum, Joe is on the top of his game across so many areas of the teaching spectrum that it’s truly a joy to know this fellow is an American educator. He’s the real deal.

As for the theater, it was unreal. 1500 seats and the place was PACKED!! Just a sea of people and there is no doubt that the entire event had the feel of an Academy Awards for teenagers. The buzz was palpable all evening long.

Obviously, the highlight was the work of the students. From animated shorts to scripted narratives with humor, pathos, drama and even fear (BTW, the song Ring-Around-the-Rosy was brought to the theater with such a sinister twist I actually felt myself squirm in my seat), this student film festival had it all. It’s truly amazing what kids can do if they are given the opportunity. And I know I always say that wherever I go but to visit the city of Effingham was to see it firsthand.

Kudos to the folks who staged the AHA Film Festival. I don’t think a person who attended will ever forget the experience.

Are schools a house of shame that eats its young or an institution that best represents the ideals of humanity? A look at the news slants us towards the former but when you work with the kids, there is little doubt it’s the latter.

For example, stories like this freak everyone out. I mean cage fights at high school? If I put this in a book, I think I’d have a hard time selling it because it’s just too far-fetched. But as the ol’ saying goes, truth is stranger than fiction. You almost can’t make this stuff up.

Then again, when you read about kids like Denise, you feel good to know that there are some take-charge kids out there making their schools — and this world — a better place.

Budget cuts are ripping everyone’s heart out. But teachers are becoming more innovative and resourceful than ever before.

Political shenanigans are omnipresent yet sentiments of positive change are all about and everyone can feel the tide is turning in a better direction.

So, is the school’s milk carton half empty or half full? (And what does your answer say about you?)

Like most folks, I struggle with many matters of the teaching spirit. Sometimes I like to think it’s because I am an urban educator and things are especially rough in so many ways on the kids, teachers, administrators, parents and so on in communities like the one where I work. Then, when I travel and speak and talk and listen, I realize, what we do is hard… it’s hard all over no matter where you work and what you seek to accomplish.

It’s that simple. The issues revolving around American education are complex, unwieldy, illogical, and even blatantly absurd. But without a positive outlook, a hopeful spirit, a daily feeding of what’s good and right and worthy and noble about what we do and the direction we are headed, it becomes all too easy to slip into the quicksand of educational negativity. Some people spend their whole careers in this pit. Me, I refuse to. This is why I recognize that my greatest battle is often the battle against cynicism because if I am jaded and hopeless and negative and defeatist then there really is no way that I can see that I can be the best teacher I want/need/hope to be for my kids… because that stuff is both toxic and contagious.

Ultimately, being a teacher is hard. Being a good teacher is harder and being an exceptional teacher requires a sweating of the soul. This is not to say I am an exceptional teacher; this is only to say that I aspire to be one. And if I do, I believe that having hope, being positive, and remaining optimistic is an integral ingredient. Am I Pollyannish? People have accused me of being so. Then again, if I don’t believe I can make a real difference, then why should I believe that anyone else can make one? And conversely, if I do believe that I can make a difference, why shouldn’t I believe that others can as well.

But oh, sometimes it is really, really tough. And some days, the wolves howl with extra spit and venom at my door.

I adore Obama and feel that he is spot on in so many ways when it comes to moving education forward in America to better meet the demands of the next generation.

However, I keep hearing him say “we need to do a better job of rewarding talented teachers” but I don’t believe that the key to national success and achieving our educational aims preeminently lies in figuring out a way to pay good teachers more money. In fact, I believe that we can make our biggest and best strides by simply better empowering our nation’s best educators. What we want are tools, resources, some personal freedom to use our own professional discretion as to how and when to apply our craft and not to have the penultimate evaluation of our school or our own individual competence as educators be determined by preposterous bubble tests.

Do I want more money? Of course I do. But if that was my sole driving force I never would have entered into this field. (I’d have become a Wall Street investment banker — soulless, rapaciously greedy, ridiculously over-compensated and self-righteous enough to believe that I deserve to make in one year what it takes the average American teacher, firefighter, nurse, or cop to make in 25 years).

Will better compensation help? Yes. I think the answer is self-evident. Right now our best and brightest aren’t choosing to go into the field of schooling after college and low pay is certainly a factor in this decision making. However, I never hear anybody voice the opinion, “Ya know, if my school district paid me more, I’d work harder.” What I do hear is people griping about how they are handcuffed by this overwhelmingly silly mandate to utilize one-size-fits-all materials (can ya hear me textbooks and scripted curriculums?!) and how they pretty much hate the bubble tests, finding them to be a waste of time, of little or no authentic assessment use for improving true, meaningful achievement with real, individual kids, and how they’d love to have some really good professional development that assisted them in improving their craft.

We want to get better. There are ways to get better. But, as all teachers know, the only way to get better is through more schooling and if there is one truism about all good teachers it’s that they understand the value of perpetually being a learner. We never know it all.

Empower us, Mr. Obama. And don’t let merit pay become a red herring.

On this night, after having read this interview, I became an official Arne Duncan fan.

And I am wearing my hoodie up because I am only hoping that I don’t have to hide my head underneath a full bag at some point in the future regretting the day that I made this proclamation forevermore to be referenced by the digital literati.

But he won me over. I believe his actions will follow his intentions and American education will be better off, will turn a new leaf with this man in charge.

Besides, sitting on the fence reserving judgement is something that doesn’t suit me well. We need change, we need action, we need to re-shuffle the deck (and not view it as deck chairs on the Titanic). And so, I am staking my claim as an official supporter.

As you know, I was never a fan of Spellings and felt that she was a calamity for public education. Then again, I felt that way about Dubya as well. But Mr. Duncan has just won my support and I will now feel comfy to tell all I know that he has earned it. And why?

Well, if you read the aforementioned interview, one thing is quite clear… HE GETS IT!

Now, the question becomes, can he remediate it? Well, he’s gonna need help from teachers, from people like me, if he is gonna be successful.

So here we go. God’s speed, Arne. God’s speed.

If you were to enter my class today you probably would wonder, “What the heck is going on in here? Where are all the students?” Aside from the occasional group of 2 or 3 kids who enter to get something out of their backpacks, there’s literally no one in my room.

Why?

Because they are all out on campus working. They are interviewing, filming, getting B-roll footage, shooting themselves, and so on. It’s “Production Monday” meaning that all my students know that they have this class period today to go and work. Just work. On what? Well, that answer varies for each group of students.

My kids are producing multi-media expository essays. The subjects vary based upon their own interests. Some kids are doing an expose’ on the dangers of teen drug use, others are exploring how gang violence impacts the community, some are delving into the issue of sexual molestation against young women, others are looking at ways in which our schools can better serve the needs of the kids. Many groups, many kids, many ideas.

All RIVETING!

Essentially, they’ve spent 2 weeks doing the work on the page, writing rock-solid outlines, constructing scripts, doing factual research based on credible, verifiable sources, and so on. Now, they are out scaffolding. Some are making enhanced podcasts, some are making short movies — all of them are critically thinking, creatively contributing and deeply problem solving.

At moments like this I often think back to a wonderful line that all teachers should remember: Who is doing the thinking in the classroom? If I, as the teacher, am working my brains out while the kids’ brains are on cruise control, then something ain’t right. But if my kids are intellectually sweating, pumping mental muscle in a way that deeply challenges them, then good stuff is going on. Me, I got to get caught up on some grading, deal with some papers that have been sitting on my desk for about 3 months, and just be here to help my students should they need me. But since we put in so much rigorous work at the start of this project, right now my kids don’t need me — they simply need time to work. Time that is spent as they best see fit.

And why should I feel the need to micromanage them? Truly, the students are growing up right in front of my eyes. They are taking responsibility for the completion of high quality work within an assigned time frame. And what adult doesn’t need to know that?

It’s great to see.

I pulled onto campus this morning to see a host of peers protesting layoffs, budget cuts and program slashing. Somehow, I missed the memo saying they’d be gathering but my heart dropped to the floor when I saw some of my closest friends on the “picket line” imploring the people of the community to demand that our schools do not get cast into an abyss from which it will be spectacularly hard to return.

Damn, it’s hard.

It’s hard for the teachers who got pink slips. It’s hard for the teachers (like myself) who did not get pink slips but know in their hearts that losing good people when you are in a battle like all of us are for the hearts and minds of the next generation is a deep, traumatic wound. It’s hard for the district administrators, too, who have to make supremely hard choices about where to slash, where to cut and where to forge ahead. (Goodness knows, I do not envy anyone having to make these tough choices… when you are forced to cut so deeply, nobody wins. That seems quite obvious.)

It’s getting ugly out there and the fact is, at the end of the day, lots of people are going to suffer. (Ultimately, no one more so than our students, though.) I want to more vocally advocate for the idea that we need to figure out a way for all of us to join together and NOT fall victim to the finger pointing, blame, hurt and hate that is so very much right at everyone’s fingertips right now, but when you didn’t just find out you lost your job, it’s easy to say because you don’t have to go home facing the prospects of unemployment. Truly, I don’t have credibility on that front.

Not being pink-slipped almost has me feeling survivor’s guilt — which makes it tough to do my work today. Really, just when you think the madness can’t get worse, it does.

We must find a way to fight through this. And I am sure we will. But it ain’t gonna be pretty.

So the fine folks of Pensacola absolutely implored me to come visit their school district because my book Homeboyz (so they swore) is absolutely beloved. (And if I was going to be in Orlando, I just could not leave the state of Florida without speaking to their students — and their teachers who were looking for innovative, exciting, refreshing and effective ways to reach their struggling students)

It was MAGICAL! I spoke to hundreds of kids who had read my books. (They couldn’t believe I was white.) I met hundreds of teachers who had taught or who were about to teach my books. (They were SO incredibly eager, excited and generous — Pensacola was IN THE HOUSE!!!) I signed so many books my hand is freakin’ killing me, I spoke so many words my voice is absolutely wrecked, I shared gobs of lessons, strategies and insights that instead of being drained I felt energized (caffeine helps), I’ve switched into 3 different times zones in 4 days and slept in different hotel beds with different pillows and had different levels of water pressure in the shower so that physically, emotionally and mentally I am just absolutely flying and absolutely drained all at the same time.

But I also feel America’s classroom are changing. It’s happening out there. People are sick of the textbooks. People are tired of the buffoonery that runs hand in hand with one size (supposedly) fits all material. People are eager to use real books that kids love to cultivate authentic literacy and reach real kids in ways that are true to their souls.

It’s absolutely incredible to see. I have a front row seat to a grass roots movement and while it’s personally quite taxing, I feel as if I am doing public service by visiting, chatting up and inspiring our nations kids and teachers. (BTW, The Secret Story of Sonia Rodriguez is catching fire… multicultual kids, especially girls, are falling in love with the book.)

It might take all the strength I’ve got, but today was a day that proves there are things that are really working in America’s classrooms which the mainstream media does not cover. Things like Raven, who came up and told me that Homeboyz was the first real book she’s ever read in her life (and she’s a junior in high school) and now she is excited to read something new. Things like Ms. Boles doing Book Chats with kids who have been labelled dis-fluent by the state of Florida. (Dis-fluent? What the hell is that? You can’t make this stuff up!) Things like Esther posting that she’s bummed I am gone but thrilled that a rock solid sub, Mrs. Sampson, is taking my classroom in great directions while I am gone.

And now it’s time for a 9:30 p.m. dinner by myself. After, I am going to grade some student outlines I brought with me to Florida to make sure the expository essays we are working on at Lynwood are spot on.

If it sounds bonkers, it is.

But I did buy my daughter a cool gift and when I get home there’s a heck of a lot of daddy time coming. A b-day party for cousin Talia this weekend, maybe a walk down the beach with my wife and a BBQ in the Southern California weather.

Mix in a little sleep and then I’ll be good to go to help our nation once again next week. But up next, family. If I screw that up while I am out trying to change the world I am a bigger idiot than anyone else on the internet. There’s a fine line between work and work-a-holic and if I sacrifice the people most important to me to help be of service to something that is a vacuum with and endless suck (i.e. the needs of our country’s public schools) I am a fool.

Goodness, when they say teachers don’t work hard, I am not sure who the heck they are talking about. I meet hard working educators all the time. It’s our badge of honor.

And in Florida, I just met scores of them.

Keep it up folks — you rock!!

I am jumping on a plane home after a ROCKIN’ time at ASCD in Orlando where we hosted our very first Sitomer Summit.

The Sitomer Summit was an educational event unlike any other I have ever attended. (Much less hosted.) If you were there, you know what I mean. 4 state Teacher of the Year Award Winners spoke, we saw student work on the big screen that authentically illuminated evidence that 21rst education is not only here but is already being taught in certain classrooms across the country (and we saw how it can easily be taught in so many more classrooms as well if people are in possession of the right tools), we heard from 33 year veterans at the top of the educational food chain about how they rediscovered the passion as to why they got into education in the first place, witnessed the power of real books (not textbooks, not scripted curriculum,… REAL BOOKS!) to heal lives through the the make-me-weep-words of Dr. Joan Kaywell and did it all while being served filet mignon (literally, we ate filet mignon) at Ruth Chris Steak house.

We gathered, we thoughtfully engaged and we each left with a more clear vision on what our next steps ought to be to better the state of public education in America.

We literally participated in national movement. It reminds me of the famous quote from a few decades ago, “The revolution will not be televised,” Well I believe we have evolved.

The movement will be broadcast… but first we must BE THE MOVEMENT.

Like I said, if you were there, it was an event unlike any other. And if you were not there, think about joining us next time. It stirred my soul unlike almost nothing else.

The other day I posted about Debbie, the student with a ton of brains she is not applying that is clearly leading her down the road of dropping out… and goodness knows what else will follow. When 15 year olds in low income communities abandon their education, my faith that good results will blossom from their actions is dubious.

HOWEVER, there are successes as well. Like my main man Eugene (as pictured here with me on this fine Thursday morning as we are working on writing expository essays).

Wow, do I adore this kid. Full of charm, brains and heart. And 2 months ago, he was clearly on the road to joining hand-in-hand with Debbie on the road to Nowhere (or at least nowhere I felt was going to work out to his ultimate benefit). Yet, much in the way that I tried to win Debbie over with nuancing, screaming, cajoling, applying a soft touch and taking a hard line, so I did the same with Eugene.

And it seems to have worked. I got his schedule changed, spent a little bit of extra time every day checking in with him — we shared some laughs, some mentoring time, yapped it up about hoops, and so on.

Today Eugene showed me his outline for his expository essay and it’s rock solid. And he hasn’t missed a day of school in seven weeks. His self-esteem is high (he wears his heart on his sleeve), his enthusiasm is infectious and he’s already thinking about where he wants to go to college. (NOTE: My classroom is a walking advertisement for the University of Southern California. I went to USC, remain a loyal alum, and pimp the awesomeness of college every chance I get.)

Feels good to be able to share this. And isn’t that the thing about education? One day the kids will break your heart and another day they will make your inner spirit soar — and all of it happens without rhyme or reason ata rapid fire click. No two days are ever the same.

What a day! Here’s hoping for many, many more!!!

NOTE: I took this photo with Eugene and told him that I believed this was the official day he put himself on the right track… and that when he graduates in a few years and gets accepted to a university, he’s gonna come back into my room and I am gonna show him this photo. And we’re both gonna cry.