I just got a message from Arne Duncan. An email actually. Here’s what he sent to me:

As our nation observes Teacher Appreciation Week, I am pleased to send this message to recent Teachers of the Year, to make sure that you know how much we at the U.S. Department of Education value your extraordinary commitment and service to our nation’s students.

All teachers deserve honor and thanks on a daily basis for all they do to nurture their students’ academic and personal growth, help them to achieve, and prepare them for the future.

Teachers of the Year admirably represent the entire teaching profession, and I am especially grateful for the leadership and good examples they provide.

I salute you for all of your accomplishments, and I thank you for your enduring dedication to America’s students.

–Arne Duncan

At first, I thought it was a hoax. I thought I was going to open the email and POOF! my computer was going to disintegrate while an evil teen cackled from half-way across the world screaming, “I hate and am not liking subject verb agreement always!”

But alas, it really was from Mr. Duncan. And then, once my initial cynicism subsided, I realized, “Hey, that was pretty cool. Nice gesture, Mr. Secretary of Education.”

I mean the guy obviously can’t be everywhere doing everything trying to meet everyone. But at least he wrote me an email.

Or had a secretary write it.

Or ordered a secretary to have an intern write it.

Or ordered a secretary to have an intern who had a mother who was once a teacher write it. (Look at the proper use of those apostrophes… you know that if you’re gonna send an email out to teachers, as Secretary of Education, you better get both Strunk and White to sign off on that bad boy! However, I think I could take issue with his parallelism if I were to get persnickety but alas, he’s a busy guy so I am not gonna hit him with the fine tooth comb.)

Arne, I agree with you on one hell of a big point: our schools need to change. And I do salute the fact that you are a person who believes that if you’re going to make an educational omelet, you gotta break some schoolhouse eggs. (BTW, if you ever need a fire and brimstone speechwriter, I can be bought!)

Now of course, I might quibble over the eggs you are choosing to smash – or not choosing, as well (like bubble tests!) – yet, at the end of the day, I think the jury is still out on you. Being that you’re still relatively new at the job, and still learning the ropes, I think you deserve more time before you become the next marshmallow on my blogfire.

And you’ve done some good already as well. Those coupla billion you scrounged up to keep the universe afloat while Wall Street was playing 3 card monty with our national banking system really did prevent a calamity.

Yet, we ain’t out of the woods yet. Please don’t forget that.

All in all, thanks for the note last week – and right back at ya, Dude! Teacher of the Year wnners do work hard. But please know that there are hundreds of thousands of teachers in California and millions of teachers across the country that would really like to feel your love as well.

Now sure, some teachers stink and should be run from the profession, but their numbers are infinitesimal as compared to the number of those who simply do right by America. Remember, more time out of the Beltway will always be a good thing to show you just that. And if you want to come to Lynwood, we’d love to have you.

Oh yeah, feel free to bring Barry, too. It’ be a genuine honor.

So here’s an article where the doomsday scenario of teacher cuts is illuminated in big, bold print for all the world to see. We are talking about, by some estimates, 100,000 – 300,000 educators losing their jobs (those are Arne Duncan’s words) in the next few months.

In California, we pink-slipped something like 22,000 teachers. And everyone is befuddled as to an answer to help stave off this nightmare scenario.

I blogged about it last week, but let me suggest it again, this time with some math behind it. Let’s just pink slip the tests instead of the professionals.

In the state of California, for example, bubble tests are everywhere. I mean everywhere. Approximately 5 million students will be taking the CST exam for NCLB over the next month.

How much do we pay for each test? (I don’t know, but I wish someone would answer that for all of us.)

I’ll low-ball my guesstimates just to make the bigger point (i.e. of let’s just pink slip the tests instead of the professionals.)

I’ve heard there are over 6 million kids in California schools. Let’s toss out a million of them and posit that we’re only gonna pay ETS for 5 million tests.

How much does each test cost? According to the College Board website, the SAT costs $45 per test.
The College Board charges $86 per test for the AP exams, according to their site.
Being that the CST is for English, Math, History and Science – and being that I want to give the test makers a fair shake, let’s say they only charge 2/3 of the cost of an SAT for a more complex, longer, more broad in scope CST exam.

By that I mean, I’ll do the math at $30 per kid tested. (If AP are $86 per test, I find it hard to imagine that CST’s for NCLB are a 1/3 of the price for something that requires differentiation at every grade level, but like I said, let’s be fair and try to underestimate the fee they charge our schools for testing.)

So I underestimate the amount of kids taking the test at 5,000,000 and I underestimate the cost per test at $30 and that means that when I say that the number is $150,000,000.00 to test our state’s kids — that’s 150 million dollars — I think I am being conservative.

And we test them year after year after year. To put it in perspective,4 years of high school = 600 million dollars in testing.

So let’s say we actually took that $150 million for next year’s tests and put it on the table and asked ourselves, “Where could we get more bang for our buck?”

And by bang for our buck I mean, where will the money best be spent directly helping the kids of the 2010/2011 school year?

Should we spend $150,000,000 on bubble tests for our students or should we spend $150,000,000 on teachers for the students in the classrooms?

The answer to me, well… it seems self evident.

A few random thoughts on school now that I am back in action…

–They should plan for a vakay after a person’s vakay so that folks like us can have some time to rest up after having taken a vakay. Recovering from hard work is tiring.

–How come the kids that were the talkers in class before Spring Break return to school as, yep, you guessed it, the talkers in class but the kids who were the motivated and diligent students before the break return to school looking as if they just want to lay their head down on a desk and take a nap?

–Why do so many kids clamor for vacation before it hits yet complain about how boring their Spring Break was once they return?

–Lots of teacher smiles and “Hello there, good to see you,” salutations between faculty members in the halls today. By day 3 this week — after a good staff meeting and a few memos from admin — I wonder how well these pleasantries will hold up.

–A recent article says that 84% of teachers in the state of California hold unfavorable attitudes towards NCLB. 84%? I am shocked. Who the heck are the 16%… that’s what I want to know?

– During the holiday, I enjoy the taste of coffee. When school is in session, I survive off its caffeine.

Why I wrote The Hoopster

Let’s be honest. To a certain extent, we are raising a generation of non-readers. I hate to sound like an old coot but these kids today with their computers, their iPods, their cell phones and their video games, they are just not reading as much as they used to anymore. It’s as if Guttenberg never lived.

And the consequences are dire.

(Okay, I’ll concede that kids today are Screen-Agers. Yes, they are reading their screens all the time in a literal way but it’s not the type of reading that promotes critical thinking. It’s like eating Doritos for dinner. Yes, it’s food but it most certainly lacks vital nutrition and if salty chips are all you eat your health is most assuredly going to suffer.)

Goodness, I don’t even know who I’d be if I hadn’t read some of the books that I have in my life. And many adults, I realize, feel exactly same way.

Quick activity: List your top two or three favorite books of all time… and then X them out, as if you had never read them. Ask yourself, who would you be if you had never read these works? For me I can say without reservation that I’d be much worse off as a human being without these books in my life. From Dr. Seuss to Victor Hugo to the Bible to Walter Dean Meyers, I mean it’s almost unimaginable who I’d be without these texts.

This realization is what led me to write The Hoopster. Knowing how immense the positive impact of one simple book could be to the lives of my students – and knowing how valuable it is in this day and age to be literate and be a reader – well, that’s what got my juices going. I wanted my students to read books.

And I wanted to be the one to write “that book”, the one that would turn them on to reading and make them realize, “This is cool!”.

Heck, it had always been a secret dream of mine to become an author, a dream that I had somehow put on hold as I got older, took a job, got married, blah, blah, blah.

It was at this juncture of my life that I realized I was being confronted by my own hypocrisy.

I mean I spend my whole life telling people to go after their dreams, to reach for the stars, to not let anything hold them back from striving for the brass ring and yet here I was with a dream of my own and I wasn’t going to go for it? The irony was just too thick and I knew I couldn’t have lived with myself if I hadn’t at least made an effort.

So I set to work.

I outlined. I plumbed the depths of character. But really, my whole aim was to simply gain the approval of teenage boys – particularly teenage boys of color, the hardest to reach demographic of all. (Hey, why no shoot for the moon, right?) I mean these were the kids sitting in the chairs of my classroom anyway. I wasn’t writing for the critics. I was writing for a much tougher crowd. To gain the approval of multicultural middle and high school boys.

Now that would be the motherload!

Action. Suspense. Humor. Heart. I flexed every literary muscle I could. And then I handed my novel to Dontae.

“Yo Dontae, Man,” I said in a sort of California-causal way. “I wrote this book for folks like you and your boys. Would you mind checkin’ it out?”

I handed him the manuscript.

“Yeah, sure I’ll check it out, Mr. Alan,” he replied.

A day passed. Nothing.

Two days passed. Nothing.

A week went by.

You know how when you are waiting to hear feedback from someone about something and you start to get all itchy? Let’s just say it felt like I was wearing a wool sweater knit by a fat aunt with bad teeth and lots of caked-on make-up. At day 10, I cornered Dontae in the hall. (Obviously, maturity and patience are not my greatest strengths.)

“Yo Dude,” I said trying not to sound like an addict fiending for a fix. “Remember that book I gave you? Did you even read the first page?”

Dontae looked up at me with innocent teenage eyes, the kind of eyes that always remind teachers why working with kids is the most fulfilling type of job on the planet there is.

“Aw yeah, Mr. Alan,” Dontae said in a relaxed tone of voice. “I read it in two days. And then I gave it to Richard and he read it and gave it to Joel. I hope that’s cool.”

I paused, stunned.

Oh my goodness. They’re bootlegging my book around the school.

“Uh, yeah, Dontae, that’s cool,” I said, unsure of how to respond.

“Yo, when you gonna write another, Mr. Alan. Beats that boring shi… I mean stuff in the library.”

“Uh, I’ll get back to you, Dontae.”

And that’s how The Hoopster was born.

Diary of a Wimpy Kid is about to absolutely rock the Hollywood box office this weekend. And it has been a rip-roaring success in the world of book publishing. As a teacher, when I see this I know that I can leverage the power of an author who has found a way to reach real kids into classroom success for me and my kids.

Here’s how I do it.

First of all, I know that the state has hired me to teach the content standards. (They clearly say so.) And when they assess my student performance, the material they test is not text specific but rather, standards-based. This means that they are not going to be testing my kids on Kafka, Twain, and Joyce but rather on denotation vs. connotation, theme, tone and so on.

And hey, Diary of a Wimpy Kid uses all of the literary elements of denotation vs. connotation, theme, tone and so on. So why not use Diary of a Wimpy Kid as a text to teach the standards in my classroom?

I do.

Now before I get crucified as being someone that does not revere the GREAT BOOKS of human civilization – a canon blaster, if you will — please take a few things into consideration.

California is a state with 6.4 million students. And 1.6 million of them are English Language Learners. This means that I need to differentiate, accommodate and be responsive to the real literary needs of the students that are sitting in my class — all while still teaching the appropriate grade level content standards.

I am not sure if there is a more accessible book for English Language Learners out there right now than Diary of a Wimpy Kid.

-It’s funny. (And kids will wrestle with text when the reward is material that will make them laugh).
-There’s a lot of white space on the page. (Check the research on the value of that to a student with low literacy skills – especially when English is not their first language).
-It’s relevant and kids relate. (The bumbling, fumbling shenanigans of Greg allow students to see their own lives reflected directly in the text.)

And Diary of a Wimpy Kid (for those who want to take a moment to jump off their high horse of that books in school absolutely must be dense, erudite art) is a good read. Personally, I greatly enjoyed it because it’s an energetic, funny and page turner.

Plus, guess what? There’s a theme. (A few of them, in fact: 1) We learn from our mistakes. 2) Self-image is very important. 3) No one escapes problems in their life. 4) You’ve got to show initiative if you are going to get anywhere in this world.)

And there are examples of denotation vs. connotation.

And the text provides me examples of tone, perspective, hyperbole and on and on.

The same stuff that the standards ask me to teach.

Should Diary of a Wimpy Kid replace Mark Twain? Nope, not even close. But can it be used as a bridge to build capacity? Can it be used as a text to illuminate literary devices?

Can it be used as a vehicle to get 100% of your class to do ALL the assigned reading? (And how often do our classes do that? I mean “faking it” through books has become so ingrained in our culture that there’s a multi-million dollar industry to provide resources as to how to better fake it — Cliff’s Notes, Spark Notes, Pink Monkey and so on.)

Yes, I read Diary of a Wimpy Kid with my classes. And guess what? It was a home-run success and a great teaching tool.

And guess what else?

We had FUN!

Since when are fun and and learning mutually exclusive to one another?

But, don’t worry — keep using those 20th century tools to reach today’s 21rst century kids. After all I am sure Hollywood is going to race right out and make a movie of your classroom textbook any day this week.

Diary of a Wimpy Kid… it certainly can have it’s place in a classroom where students are achieving.

Have we not brought this on ourselves? Truly, it’s our own fault we are mired in this whole “measuring teacher’s effectiveness” mess anyway.

And why? Because we, as teachers, have run amok.

We had a chance to police ourselves, we had a chance to be our brother’s keeper, we had a chance to self-regulate in a way that resembled sensibility.

We had decades to do so. But we got ahold of too much rope and now we have hung ourselves. Our negative fringes need to be reigned in, our performance needs to be recognized as something that is not above improvement nor reproach, our sense of team is being torn asunder by the “I’s” who think they are above having to be a part of a team, and we need to do a better job at our job — like all aspects of American education do.

We can point the figure at every other quadrant of public schooling: parents, community, societal values, administration, the federal government, the budget and on and on… and be right about the blame we lay!

Yet still, that does not change the fact that we must take ownership over our own shortcomings and figure out a way we, as teachers, can better serve the needs of the next generation of student.

And if it comes with some professional uncomfortableness, so effin’ be it!

Teaching is NOT about us, the teachers; first and foremost it’s about the students. In our field we know this, we see this, we bleed this.

We live this.

But not all of us of do. And a small cancer has spread to the point where it’s no longer small.

Clearly, the campus duds must be de-dudded and we gotta start bringing better game to the table. All of us do.

(BTW, NCLB is not even worth mentioning to counter this argument because NCLB has been a farce and you’re not gonna find any love from me for the calamity that this exercise in folly has wrought for us all.)

Now the thing is, people get uproarious about feeling accused. Chill out because if you are reading this, you probably are not one of the people at whom I am pointing the finger. Those folks rarely, if ever, read blogs on nings seeking out answers on their own time as to how to improve their craft or stay up to date on the latest policy measures (much less looking for a means whereby they can improve a lesson plan).

But if we can’t acknowledge that something is rotten in the state of Denmark then we have absolutely no chance in hell of ever improving it.

It begins with us taking a look in the mirror and being humble (and realistic) about the fact that we can get better.

We all seem to believe, as teachers, that good assessment is an asset to improving our ability to elevate student learning in our classrooms. How do I know what a kid knows unless I assess what it is I am seeking for them to be able to prove they understand and can do?

And once I assess and reflect on the student’s performance, I can chart a new path for extended growth.

Because growth never stops in education. There is no end line to any of this.

However, if you take away my ability to assess my kids (no formal measurements at all) I believe I will be a lesser teacher. By a lot! Nope, I am not Socrates. Or Jesus or Buddha or whatever other person you can think of that was able to turn student water into wine without formal feedback. (Unless Socrates actually gave 5 paragraphs essays that I didn’t know about. Wouldn’t that be the ultimate egg on our face — Socrates assigned hamburger essays on truth, beauty and nobility — the documents were just misfiled amongst the ruins. Yikes!)

No, I am just a high school English teacher in Los Angeles, California and I use multiple measures to gain insight into the knowledge and performance of the kids in my class.

Why can’t the same be applied to us as teachers on the whole?

No one measurement in my class ever gives the whole story to me as to a kid’s learning anyway. (Which is why high stakes tests don’t really strike me as the cat’s meow.)

I use multiple measures. From quizzes to personal contact to project-based learning projects to traditional summative assessment tools, I use multiple approaches to gain the knowledge I seek.

And I find that knowledge valuable because it better enables me to figure out ways to teach my students.

And giving an F is always the last resort. (As firing would be in the plan I envision.) But i do give some F’s. (And we do need to fire some folks.)

But I give a lot more A’s and I work exceedingly hard to recognize good work much more so than I do at demonizing poor work.

Why can’t we transpose these ideas to our own profession? We certainly have, in my estimation, proven the need to do it.

And if we want to point fingers at who has demonstrated this need, collectively, it is us. We have proven the need for our effectiveness/job performance/professional impact to be measured/assessed/evaluated/judged – choose whatever language you want – ourselves.

Individually, you may not feel you need it but holistically, when it comes to American education at large, this need is glaring.

The only real question left for me is, why do I feel so alone when I type this?

Think about the immense accomplishment of safely putting a human being on the moon and then returning that person back home to planet earth. Truly, it’s almost unreal when you think about the size and scope of the achievement… and yet, we did it.

But to listen to teachers in America today say, “There is no way to measure teacher effectiveness,” you’d think that interplanetary travel was nothing but a puny science activity compared to the beast that evaluating the professional work a 7th grade English teacher in Anaheim, California would be.

I just don’t buy it.

I mean right now I can fire off an email through a mobile, handheld device from the center of Detroit, Michigan that could be read in China, forwarded to South America and then replied to by a person in Israel all within a matter of minutes, yet gathering reasonable insight into the professional performance of the math teacher down the hall is entirely unachievable?

It’s not.

And we should stop saying it is.

Obviously, this opens up a whole can of worms as to “how” we can measure teacher effectiveness (because that is the real question) so over the course of the next few days, months, and so on, I will speak to a variety of the “how it can be done” aspects to this conversation.

Not that I actually have all, or even any of the answers.

But I do know that the first thing we all must recognize is that yes, it can be done. It is not impossible. It is not beyond human capability. It is not a smaller feat than inventing the wheel, discovering fire, harnessing electricity or slicing bread.

So how about we ask that all teachers in this country take a deep breath and admit the obvious: it’s possible. Truly, before we are able to measure teacher effectiveness, we are all going to have to calmly acknowledge that yes, indeed it can be done.

It might not be easy.
It might not be quick.
It might not be cheap.
It might not be impeccably flawless beyond the pale of any and all criticism (because so many other things in this world have risen to that level so why shouldn’t measuring teacher effectiveness do the same? Author’s note: dripping sarcasm.)
But it is not impossible.

I do wish cooler heads would prevail for this national conversation. Before we can measure teacher effectiveness we are going to have to realize that splitting the atom, mapping the human genome and getting a taxicab in New York City in the pouring rain have all been done.

Measuring teacher effectiveness can be done as well. The question is not one of “if” but of “how”.

And like I said, more on that in the posts ahead.

A cowboy named Bud was overseeing his herd in a remote mountainous pasture in California when suddenly a brand-new BMW advanced toward him out of a cloud of dust.

The driver, a young man in a Brioni suit, Gucci shoes, RayBan sunglasses and YSL tie, leaned out the window and asked the cowboy, “If I tell you exactly how many cows and calves you have in your herd, Will you give me a calf?”

Bud looks at the man, obviously a yuppie, then looks at his peacefully grazing herd and calmly answers, “Sure, Why not?”

The yuppie parks his car, whips out his Dell notebook computer, connects it to his Cingular RAZR V3 cell phone, and surfs to a NASA page on the Internet, where he calls up a GPS satellite to get an exact fix on his location which he then feeds to another NASA satellite that scans the area in an ultra-high-resolution photo.

The young man then opens the digital photo in Adobe Photoshop and exports it to an image processing facility in Hamburg, Germany. Within seconds, he receives an email on his Palm Pilot that the image has been processed and the data stored. He then accesses an MS-SQL database through an ODBC connected Excel spreadsheet with email on his Blackberry and, after a few minutes, receives a response.

Finally, he prints out a full-color, 150-page report on his hi-tech, miniaturized HP LaserJet printer, turns to the cowboy and says, “You have exactly 1,586 cows and calves.”

“That’s right. Well, I guess you can take one of my calves,” says Bud.

He watches the young man select one of the animals and looks on with amusement as the young man stuffs it into the trunk of his car.
Then Bud says to the young man, “Hey, if I can tell you exactly what your business is, will you give me back my calf?”

The young man thinks about it for a second and then says, “Okay, why not?”

“You’re a Congressman for the U.S. Government”, says Bud.

“Wow! That’s correct,” says the yuppie, “but how did you guess that?”

“No guessing required.” answered the cowboy.

“You showed up here even though nobody called you; you want to get paid for an answer I already knew, to a question I never asked. You used millions of dollars worth of equipment trying to show me how much smarter than me you are; and you don’t know a thing about how working people make a living – or about cows, for that matter. This is a herd of sheep.

Now give me back my dog.

The teacher down the hall from me hasn’t been at our school very long. And while I know her name, my high school has well over 150 educators and, some years, more than 4,000 kids on campus. Additionally, our professional turnover rate is exceptionally high and, truth be told, after years and years and years of seeing people come into our English department, and then leave our English department for one reason or another (i.e. the work is too hard, the environment is too challenging, this “inner-city teaching thing” is just not for them, California is just nut-so and they are moving back to a more sensible place, and so on) you just don’t get to know everyone the way you ought to until they have been around a couple of years and made it past the dragon.

What dragon? Let’s be honest, Title 1 schools can be a buzz saw and no matter how much you try to help someone, at some point each of us has to face down the creature that lives in the belly in the public school beast ourselves and determine, “Am I going to continue on here or am I going to move on to another world that makes more personal sense?”

There’s no one on my campus who has not confronted such a monster. Some of us confront it monthly.

So when I saw the teacher down the hall at the CATE conference this past weekend, my eyes lit up.

She was there because she wanted to be there. No Dept. Chair muscled her into a Saturday attendance. No one bullied her into seeking some professional development to improve her classroom craft. No one mandated that she do some extra hours to stay job-eligible. She was at CATE because she paid her own way to attend. Nope, the school district didn’t cover her conference fee (a few hundred bucks) or her transportation or her parking or her lunch. (BTW, how many superintendents ever visit a conference on their own dime? Don’t ya get the sense that if they even had to even pay for their own bottle of water they’d take a pass and say, “Naw, not worth it”? But teachers… another story entirely.)

Just by seeing her at the conference, I feel closer to the teacher down the hall now. I feel as if she has faced the “dragon” and found a way to say, “Bring it on, Mo Fo’, cause I got something for ya, too!”

It really takes that kind of attitude in a way to do what it is we do everyday. And even though I try to be supportive of all the other teachers on campus, I think I am going to make sure I give a little “extra oomph” to helping the teacher down the hall. There are a few personal books from my own professional development library she might want to read, there are a few “mazes around our campus” I might be able to help her better navigate, maybe she just needs someone who has been around here for a while to acknowledge the good work she is doing in a public way, like at our next department meeting. Who knows?

But schools help people who help themselves. It’s a rule that is just as true for teachers as it is for students.

When Peers Face the Dragon and Come Out on the Other Side, you can see it in their eyes.

Last week I was part of an amazing banquet where we honored the 2010 California Teachers of the Year in Sacramento. Big kahunas were all over the place. State senators. Educational policy makers from the Department of Ed. And of course, the inimitable State Superintendent of Public Education in California, Jack O’Connell. (Being a part of this crowd is like being a part of my only real Skulls and Bones Society — aside from this ning, that is… LOL!)

The point is, okay, I admit — I am not objective. I was a 2007 TOY (Teacher of the Year) for the state of California and when it comes to “pimpin’ for my homies” I call it much like Chick Hearn used to call Los Angeles Laker games… with an eye towards the hometown fans.

So yep, I adore Kelly Kovacic. But the thing is, when it comes to Kelly, she completely deserves the admiration. From all of us.

First off, she’s a teacher’s teacher. At school late. At school early. Taking on all kinds of extra duties. (I’d say without fanfare but hey, just she stepped into a world of fanfare so it’s no longer true — but toiling in obscurity with her shirt sleeves rolled up is how she got where she is.)

So what is all the hoopla? Well, the press release says that Kelly provides “a rigorous college-preparatory education for motivated low-income students who all live below the poverty level”.

It’s a well turned phrase to read on paper but what’s that really mean in the real world to me and you? Well, in real world terms, it means Kelly is on the front line of education changing lives. Breaking the patterns of generational poverty as bequeathed from one to the next due to a lack of education. She provides resources. She provides tools. She provides belief.

Kelly makes a difference — an immense one. And she works her ass off doing it.

There are well over 300,000 educators in the state of California. Many, many, many of them do Herculean, fantastic work. Kelly was chosen as the 2010 representative for us all.

There are millions of teachers in our nation. Many, many, many of them do Herculean, fantastic work. Kelly is now one of four teachers that might represent us all as the National Teacher of the Year. (Wow, huh?)

Many, many educators don’t even realize that their states have a Teacher of the Year program. Well, we do. We all do. And why?

As it turns out, one of the core missions of this program is to shine a positive light on the great work being done by teachers across this country. It’s that simple. There are scores and scores and scores of people doing TREMENDOUS work out there — and our parents, our students, our peers and our politicians need to know about it.

It’s not that Kelly is the “best” teacher. That would be preposterous to even try to to determine. It’s that Kelly is a GREAT teacher. And now she represents all the teachers in my state.

Do you know your state teacher of the year? Do you know someone that deserves consideration for state teacher of the year? (Hit your state’s dept. of ed website — you’ll find more info there.)

After all, if we don’t celebrate our own, who will?

Congrats Kelly! You do California proud!