One of the reasons I consider it so important for teachers to try and finish the school year in a “strong” fashion is simply out of self-preservation. The fact is, teaching is tough. And the year is long and hard. And we are not always at our best.

Plus, when you add in a dose of the dire news we are all inevitably going to be reading/hearing about for the upcoming 2010/2011 school year (for example, I just heard rumors we might go as high as 43 to 1 on the student teacher ratio due to budget cuts on my campus), you can get demoralized.

And feel disempowered.

But in a way, this sentiment is an illusion. Sure, there are many things we cannot control in our teaching universe… but there are many things we can as well.

Choose to focus on the things that are within your realm of being able to control. It’s one recipe for staving off the wolves of educational despair.

When you strap it up and work your butt off bell to bell all the way to end of the year, you feel a certain personal dignity that can’t be stolen away from you. And when you work in a chaotic, frenzied, dysfunctional world where up is down and buffonishness trumps common sense, feeling as if you are making a positive contribution matters, despite the events going on all around you.

It actually matters a lot. In fact, it might be all the difference in the world.

Now of course, we owe it to the kids to give them our all, but in reality, a lot of teachers feel dumped on by their districts these days and as a result, they often passive-aggressively take out their own frustrations with their superiors on those that are most easily within lashing-out distance.

i.e. the kids.

My district pink-slipped me? Well, screw them… I ain’t teaching crap for the rest of this year. What are they going to do, fire me?

-Uhm, aren’t you forgetting the needs of the students?
-Aren’t you forgetting your own sense of professionalism?
-Aren’t you forgetting that you are still being paid for a job and just because you can shirk you duties doesn’t mean that you should shirk your duties.

As this year winds down, a lot of “stuff” is going to bubble up. My feeling is that the best defense to preserve your sanity, your dignity and your own personal sense of self can begins with a strong finish to the end of the school year. Refuse to be one of those teachers that just phone it in because at the end of the day, heck, at the end of your life, you’ll be able to look back and at least know that when it came time hey, at least you did what you could.

Trust me, there’s more juice in the fruit of students to be squeezed and wasting it, well… the knowledge that you’ve done so can wear on your soul.

(FYI, I am going to host a free webinar on Finishing Strong next week (on May 19th from 6:30 – 7:30 EST. If interested, you can sign up here.)

Look, let’s be honest for a minute. If you have been reading me for any length of time at all you have probably noticed that the past wee bit has seen a more cynical, jaded bite — a sharpened, more cutting blog-edge tone, if you will.

I admit it. I’ve darkened.

But the thing is, well… there are a few things. For one, if we are going to be really honest, this freakin’ job is freakin’ hard. And between the budget cuts and the bastards and the buffoons, it would take a saint not to get rattled by the crap we all face at both my school and in public education on the whole.

And I ain’t no f*&%kin saint.

This stuff is meaningful to me, this stuff hits me hard and this stuff impacts my life and the lives of my kids – and peers – in deep, significant ways.

My students get one chance to be teenagers in school and SO, SO, SO many consequences that will resonate throughout the rest of their lives are being manipulated by puppeteers that seem to have no shame about doing what is in their own personal, best, self-interest before considering what is in the best interest of the students we have been hired to serve.

My cynicism is a by-product of naiveté some might say… cause I believe I can change things – or at least impact things for the better – and I get really frustrated when I lay it all on the line and still, things roll downhill.

If I could be more zen-like, I’d be much better off. All I can say to that is, I am a work in progress — so please don’t submit final grades just yet.

However, I also know that things are cyclical in a school year and right now, we are in the thick of the jungle in a whole host of ways. Stress runs high during times like these and when you work 90-100 hours a week and still feel as if you are spinning your wheels, it gets maddening.

But we’re gonna get out of it. And this too shall pass. There are more fart blogs in me. Yes, I will write 800 words on “The booger-pickers of 4rth period”. (Note to self: Hey, that’s a good book title.)

The joy, the laughs, the ridiculous smiles, it’s all still there. I guess I just take this all-too-seriously in some ways, sometimes. See, I bought into the propaganda hook, line and sinker. I believe in kids, I believe in teaching, I believe in education, and I believe in serving the greater good of society. (And all that other nonsense.)

When you care about things, you open yourself up to being hurt. That’s just a law of the universe or something.

If I just wanted a job for the sake of pulling a paycheck, I would have become a lawyer. Really. Then again, knowing me, I probably would have become a bleeding heart, public defendant, still working for the government rambling on about pillars of the Constitution because a leopard doesn’t ever really change their spots, now do they? (Truth is, I have immense regard for some lawyers. My dad and grandfather were both barristers; sounds more high fallutin’ when you say it that way.)

So know this. I may be down and gettin’ kicked around in the mud right now but that’s because nobody in our field (that I know of) escapes that aspect of this work.

And I don’t trust people who pretend that it’s never like this — or sell you perpetual rose-colored glasses. It’s just untrue.

So me, when I am down at the bottom of the barn rollin’ around in professional pigshit, I kinda relish it. Why? Because I guess I figure if you are gonna rise to great heights in this world, it seems as if you must also plumb some pretty low depths, too.

The encroachment of cynicism on my writing — it’s there, but it’s not permanent. Not as long as I still find joy in the farting booger-pickers of 4rth period it isn’t.

Cause when that joy is gone, so am I.

The Ugly Truth is that my number one goal for my students right now has to be to raise their 2010 standardized test scores.

I find it disturbing, off-base, heart-wrenching, and almost something shameful to admit. However, NCLB has my entire school’s back up against the wall right now. The state is on the doorstep of taking over the district. The district has already informed us that if we sink to the next level of NCLB probation status, tenure for everyone on campus will be voided and jobs will be eviscerated. (Keep in mind that more budget cuts are going to hammer us from the other side, too.)

Essentially, we will be measured by one stat and one stat only in the most high stakes of manners this year. Our standardized test scores will determine our future (individually and collectively, I assume) and people will lose jobs based on the results.

Actually, lots of people will already be losing their jobs. That’s a given. The question is not “if” but “how many” and “who”. (The “when” question is easy to answer: NOW!)

Obviously, much more will be written about this by me over the next few months so I won’t bother to write a 900 page post about all the aspects at this juncture. However, these are the cards we are being dealt: Earn higher standardized test scores and you will be judged favorably. Do not earn sufficiently high enough test scores and you will be chopped.

It’s now that black and white for my English department at Lynwood High School.

More to come…

I think people have become numb to the issue of race in our schools. And to bring it up, I think people just roll their eyes and feel a bit exhausted by it all. It’s like we’ve all heard about the Achievement Gap and we are all familiar with Kozol and we are all aware of the fact that the black and brown kids are, in many ways, getting less — and performing in an lower capacity — than white and Asian kids.

Has our national conversation petered out? Has the conversation about teacher quality, tenure, budget cuts and national standards bludgeoned the race issue to the point of it being like a punch drunk boxer who still wants to fight, still feels they need to fight but yet, can’t really keep up with the current fight going on?

On one hand we can take credit for having come far. It’s admirable the progress we, as a nation, have made. But have we come far enough?

Have we lost the mojo behind this “cause”?

As America becomes more and more and more racially diverse, has the issue of race become a tired talking point? Or worse, are we simply coming to accept that inequality is simply going to be the order of the day?

I mean there are like almost no white kids at my school… and we are in deep NCLB probation territory.

Are their any all-white schools, I wonder, that have absolutely no minorities which are in deep NCLB probation territory?

I know… sssshhhh! Go talk about teacher quality, tenure, budget cuts and national standards. Social justice, we did that already. Moving on…

So the school year is a few weeks in now and we just had one of those big, long English department meetings. You know the kind, where people gripe, complain, moan, go off topic and stray into conversations about how they are the best educational practitioners ever and back in 1981 I was doing this and blah, blah, blah.

Put it this way, if you do not know what type of meeting I am talking about, consider yourself blessed. We have good peeps on our staff and we are all working hard… but put 27 people in a room when there are still a buncha pockets of sheer chaos in different areas of campus and you are gonna hear some stuff.

Essentially, if there was a theme (and I am big on themes — I make my kids find them, analyze them, write about them and so on), it would be, “We don’t have enough.”

We don’t have enough desks. Due to the budget cuts we lost educators and now there are a bunch of teachers with 43 per class with only 34 desks in the room.

We don’t have enough teachers. Some people are carrying more than 200 students on their total roster this year. (And that’s a hell of a lot! Too many in fact… no doubt!)

We don’t have enough books. Being that about 30% of our kids didn’t return the books they checked out last year, and we have no money to order new books, we’re short materials.

We don’t have enough administrators. Yep, you heard me say it. There just aren’t enough hands on deck right now and being that we switched from SASE to ARIES and it’s giving major problems to everyone — and the guy who did the master schedule for the past decade just retired — my admins just spent last Saturday and Sunday on campus still working out schedules and the such. Admins aren’t the enemy… they have it just as tough… but they unfortunately can devolve into number crunching bureaucrats… and there is nothing more problem than number crunching bureaucrats who do not have enough number crunching bureaucrats around them to properly crunch the numbers like good number crunching bureaucrats are often called upon to do.

Essentially, We don’t have enough, we don’t have enough, we don’t have enough!

And so we must make up for it in spirit.

One of the biggest problems I have with our current national assessment system is that they have almost mastered the art of shaming and belittling those who do not make the cut while doing an exceptionally poor job of of recognizing those who have made strides in a positive direction or really give an exceptional effort at doing more with less. It’s as if under-performing the task of meeting their objectives deserves a SHOUTING DOWN FROM THE ROOFTOPS while those that make gains, small, medium or even large, get virtually nada other than a stuffy look over the nose of horned-rimmed glasses with a sense of, “Come on, ya know you gotta do better, right?” attached to their gaze.

When it comes to fear-mongering and draconian punishment, our national assessment system knows how to make front page news out of any school in the nation. When it comes to positive, small steps in the right direction, they don’t even know how to send over a “pat on the back” well-done, thank you card.

And really, who wants to work for a boss that only knows how to highlight your shortcomings without knowing how to recognize your achievements? I mean come on, to look at all that is actually being achieved in our schools today — and oh yes, there is a lot — you would think by the way it gets acknowledged by the powers-that-be that there was actually little to nothing of merit actually going on in the halls of our nationa’s educational system.

For example, my principal and I had a 45 minute phone call last night that started at 9:15 pm and school doesn’t even start until Friday. Actually, it was supposed to start on Tuesday but there was no money for “buy back” days so Tues and Wed were scratched due to budget cuts. So then Thursday was supposed to be our first day back but that was scratched as well because now it’s a furlough day. So essentially, we will start with Friday as our first and only day back with adults only before school actually begins (with kids) on Monday.

That’s one day to get a staff of nearly 200 people ready to go. In a school that is on Dante Circle of NCLB hell number 6 or something like that right now.

Uhm, hello… are we not already being set up to under-achieve just a wee bit. I mean I wonder whether or not everyone is even going to be able to get their room keys on Friday — forget being all on the same page as far as the zillion other details that run hand-in-hand with being part of a huge urban school go.

And does our school get any credit for the fact that there are a host of folks preparing on their own time, using their own money? Does my principal get any love for have left 19 days of paid contractual vacation time on the table this year so he could work to do a better job for our kids.

Where’s the attention to that?

When the month of May rolls around and Lynwood takes it on the chin (not they we absolutely will — it’s not a foregone conclusion and I certainly am holding out hope we can turn this puppy around — and working my tail off to do it as well), I wonder if it comes with at least a recognition of, “but to their credit, back in August, do you see what kind of effort they were at least trying to make?”

In too many ways, August can be the tail that wags the dog.

Writing instruction is under assault. Already, so many folks are cutting corners on it because the weight of bubble tests rules the administrator’s roost… and while admins will say writing instruction is important, they also say that about music, art, technology and so on.

But when they cut our resources, they show their priorities. And writing is not one of them.

We get test prep materials, intervention courses and remedial interventions up the yin-yang… and they are exceptionally focused on bubbles. And now that they are going to swell all our classes by 20% and emphasize the “bottom line” even more due to draconian budget cuts (i.e. we need higher test scores) writing instruction just feels as if it’s on the same chopping block as music: if they don’t test it, why are we teaching it?

Is that the nation we are becoming? If they don’t test it, why are we teaching it?

There is no way to work in a school today without the very clear recognition that the cracks are expanding. The question is, how do we prevent ourselves from cracking up amid the crumbling?

Kids used to just fall through cracks. But “kids”, at least as the phrase’s original connotation indicated to me, implied single kids (despite the use of the plural which I took to mean “one at a time.”) Or it meant a certain type of kid. It left one with the impression that a “kid falling through the cracks in the system” was an anomaly, a rare, but sad and regrettable bird, one that someone somewhere was diligently working to prevent in the future.

But nowadays, this expression has taken on (and is about to take on even more so) a whole new meaning.

Not just some kids, not just a bunch of kids, but many, many, many kids will fall through the cracks in the system in the next few years because the system is officially cracked and these budget cuts are taking a drill bit to the fault line.

For example, my own school district has forecast a projected 16 million dollar deficit after the operation of the 2009/2010 school year so something like 18% — 22% of our district’s teaching force was just pink slipped.

We’re still going to service roughly the same amount of kids, though. We’re just going to do it with 20% less educators (and a slashing of “fluff” classes like computers, art, music, and so on).

And all this as we face the oh-so-gentle stick of NCLB. Lest anyone forget, my high school is sinking towards Probation Level 4 in the DoE Circle of Educational Hell. I’m sure that less people actually trying to remediate our issues is going to help a heck of a lot, though. Wonder if they’ll take that into consideration when evaluating our bubble tests next year?

They raise the bar. They slash the resources to achieve the targets. Then they paint the people who work there as imbeciles who couldn’t teach a hungry monkey how to peel a banana.

I mean from my Superintendent on down to lil’ old me, what’s a fella to do? I know, I know, roll with the punches… but how many more punches can we all be expected to take before we are considered to be too punch drunk to soberly and successfully go about performing our jobs?

And it ain’t just Lynwood that is cracked. As this report states, nearly 60% of this Chicago school’s students will not be graduating from 8th grade, to the great shock of both the students and parents, of course. I mean I too could clearly see how my child was all beefed up on books and ready for Harvard but then voila, turns out she’s flunked 8th grade (along with the lion’s share of her peers) and here I was totally clueless about my kid’s — or her entire graduating class’s — performance. Totally believable.

Not that the school is above reproach, though. I’m sorry, but if 60% of your entire 8th grade is failing, guess what folks? The people working at the school are failing, too. Take some freakin’ ownership!

In that spirit, are Lynwood’s shortcoming my own fault as well? Absolutely. I must, if I am to accept any credit in the areas where we achieve, accept culpability for our shortcoming’s as well. After all, am I not my co-teacher’s keeper?

Usually, I’d crack a smarmy joke right about now in this point of the blog. Go for the smile with a small twist of the knife to boot. But guess what. These cracks are serious business and where the hell are our kids going to be in 3 years if we continue down this path.

Crack. It’s like we’re smoking it.