Breaking Bad, Bad, Bad

    I’ve been in the small East Texas town where my husband and I will make our new home for about two weeks now. His new job took him here, and despite a down economy, I was able to find a brand new teaching position! I have been happily looking forward to new challenges in the world of 5th grade. Little did I know just how challenging it would be.
    Last Monday was the first day back for teachers. No matter which district you’re in, it seems like it always begins with hours of training. Despite my usual loathing of rears-in-seats-meetings, I was feeling pretty chipper. I had chatted with a fellow attendee as I sought to find my way in the mostly unfamiliar high school, discovering he was a very friendly school board member. Thank goodness I had mentioned how happy I was to be there!
    Doughnuts and coffee were being served in the hallway with convocation to follow in the auditorium. I snagged a bottle of water and followed the crowd through a door. Once on the other side, I found we were backstage. Continuing to walk, I finally spotted another doorway, and a glimpse of seats. Remembering that my principal said we would be gathering in the balcony, I looked up just as I hit the doorway. That’s pretty much the last thing I remember until I found myself sitting on the second row of the auditorium..
    What I had not seen due to the crowd around me and my failure to look down instead of up, was one little concrete step. Just about six inches worth of trouble. Apparently, my left foot had rolled off the edge, followed quickly by my right foot as I tried to stable myself. I had been on the floor until the gracious people in the room helped me to a very close seat. I had just face planted in front of nearly every co-worker I could have in the district. What an entrance!
    As I tried to figure out what to do, I looked down at my feet. The right ankle hurt, but didn’t look too bad. But oh my, the left ankle! I was wondering when someone had been able to implant a golf ball into my foot. You’d think I would have noticed that? Oddly, it didn’t hurt as much as the other foot did.
    About that time people were gathering around asking me if I was all right. I started to open my mouth to ask who put the ball in my foot when I realized I was about to hurl. So all I could do was nod my head. Now, I knew I was not all right, but explaining anything wasn’t going to happen right then. I did take notice of a large trash can by the stage and began to analyze whether or not I could stand up and fall across it if I did indeed begin to upchuck. Thankfully, I never had to find out.
    As the nausea cleared I started to look for my principal. I gingerly reached for my phone in my purse on the floor beside me, but dropped my glasses when I tried to get them too. As I squinted at my contacts list I tried to text my boss, but to no avail. Understand, I don’t know many people here. Remember, I’ve only been here two weeks. I had limited options on friends at my disposal and really, really didn’t want to embarrass myself any more to the strangers around me. Well, that didn’t last.
    I tried my teammate when I was able to find her number, but she had her phone muted for the meetings and her mailbox was full. I thought I had one other teacher’s phone number and dialed it, just in time to see my principal walk through the door! I hurriedly told the person on the phone line thanks, but I just found him, then yelled (quietly) for my boss to come over.
    He took one look and went to find the school nurse. She’s a really nice lady and I wish I could have met her under better circumstances. She told me I had to have my feet x-rayed. She asked if it was okay for her to drive me, using the school’s wheelchair to get me to her car. I said sure, BUT I told her I was utterly humiliated and wanted to wait until convocation was over and workshops had started so I could creep out unseen. She agreed, and I spent the next 45 minutes focusing on the problems I was going to have finishing my classroom and getting ready to teach next week. How was I going to get to the meetings if I couldn’t drive? Even if my DH dropped me off each day, how would I get around? What about my bulletin boards! What if my room doesn’t get made as CUTE as all the other rooms in the hall!?!
    Finally, the superintendent dismissed the audience to go to the workshops and I knew the nurse would be back for me soon. People were crowding all around, funneling out through the door in which I had made my grand entrance. I noticed a few others stumble on the step and LOTS of people calling out a warning to watch it. At least I wasn’t alone in my lack of grace.
    About then I heard, “‘Scuse me, pardon,” and a man pushed his way to me with a wheelchair. Lots of people stopped and stared. They must have been the ones who were still in the doughnut line when I plopped. I quickly explained to the man with the chair that we needed to wait until everyone had left before trying to get out. The nurse, my principal, and a couple of people who had helped me in the beginning stuck around to make sure I was going to be okay. So there were a lot of tall people surrounding me as I sat and waited. That was when the police showed up.
    There had been a brief greeting from the three nice officers during the general meeting, and as they waited for it to end, they noticed there was a problem down front. That would be me. They came down to help me into the chair, and since they were probably the ones in the best shape in the room, decided to take on the task of wheeling me to the car. So now, all the rest of the audience watched as three officers manhandled a strange woman with no shoes on into a chair and carted her out of the room. No rumors will get started from that, right?
    Off I went with my new nurse friend to the first round of doctors of the day. Now, how to tell my husband? I knew better than to call and tell him I had fallen and couldn’t get up. That was not going to work. He would’ve just laughed. I got him on the phone so he could hear I was fine, but that he needed to meet us at the emergency room.
    After a few x-rays and a boot and bandage fitting, he drove me “home.” (Home is a relative term for right now, but that’s another story.) This was the result:

A broken foot and two, not one, but TWO sprained ankles. We used a desk chair to get me to my room. I had a prescription for a wheelchair but didn’t have a clue where to go get one. It was really starting to dawn on me now just how hard this week was going to be.
    A couple of hours later I had a call from HR to go to a second set of doctors. Oh, did I not mention that this would be a worker’s comp type of thing? I know nothing about WC. But I do know it’s a lot of paperwork that started before I left the building. At least the head of HR is nice when a new hire manages to cripple herself ten minutes into a new job.
    At the second doctor visit they confirmed what the first doctors said: broken, sprain, sprain. And they gave me an even bigger boot. I can assure you that neither boot will be in the Manolo Blahnik collection this fall. Unless velcro becomes a fashion statement.
    Back home, the wonderful school nurse brought me the school wheelchair. One of my fellow teachers called to help and drove my car home so it didn’t have to stay at the high school parking lot. My principal, the HR lady, my teammate, and several other teachers I have not had the privilege of meeting yet also called to check on me. Most of them didn’t even laugh at my predicament.
    In a strange but true sidebar to the story, I received a phone call while waiting on the second set of x-rays to be read. It was a nearby school district I had applied to last spring, asking me if I had found a job or if I would still like to work for them. Briefly, very briefly, I wondered if my current district might want rid of me after the stellar opening day I had. But I remembered all the nice people I had met that day, all over the city. I left wonderful friends behind when we moved and that upset me a lot. I realized that I had found new friends here in this little town. I think I’m really going to like it here. Once I can walk, anyway. Besides, what is that song about wanting to be, “Where everybody knows your name?” I think everyone learned it pretty quick this week.

Addendum: Oh yeah, the phone call I hung up on when I found my principal? I received a phone call that evening from an old friend I’ve known since elementary school. I don’t see her often, but we have touched base a couple of times since high school graduation. She asked why I called her early that morning and hung up. Seems she has the same last name as the teacher I was trying to reach. It sure looked right when I hit that call button. I really should be tethered to my reading glasses.

    
   

Mammary Madness

 *Note: Highly feminine topic. Not the type of boob-reading most men would like. Or understand.
     I don’t think much about bras. In fact, I try not to think about anything around boobs at all. Just like I don’t think much about my knees. But after an unfortunate comment I made in the presence of a very good friend about my clothes not fitting well and how I hated to shop anymore, I found myself out on a supervised shopping trip, looking for a perfectly fitted bra.
     Fifty plus years old and I have never been “fitted” for a bra. I didn’t even realize they came with expert opinions and directions. My whole tactic was just to go to the nearest department store, try on a couple of number sizes until the band could be hooked, and buy the largest letter size they had. Simple.
     The problem is that I had no idea uniboobs were not in fashion. Hence the reason for clothes not fitting well. I was short a boob and a waist!
My friend set us up with fittings at Nordstroms. Unfortunately, the resident measurer that day was tall, thin, probably an A or B, and maybe all of 12 years old. Okay, not 12, or they wouldn’t have let her work there. But it was quickly clear that she could not feel my pain over a properly fitting bra. She announced I was about 6 cup sizes larger than what anyone sold in a regular store! But even armed with that knowledge there was nothing in Nordstroms I could wear.
     Do you have any idea how much area cups that size cover? I may need those cups, but the problem is that I’m actually a tiny skeleton covered in a lifetime of meat, potatoes, butter, and brownie pie. When the bra makers create a bra with a mid-alphabet cup size they assume the person going to wear it is 6 foot 11, and about 3 feet across. I’m 5 foot 2, and narrow. Very, very round, but narrow.
Put a large cup bra on me and it goes from clavicle to waist. Underwires poke into my armpits and prevent me from putting my arms to my sides. The straps land somewhere between my shoulders and my elbows. Not a flattering image, huh? Not comfortable, either.
     Trying again on another day we headed to a shop in Dallas which specializes in bras of all kinds and will alter them if needed. My long-suffering friend even drove me there, knowing I won’t drive south of 635. But she was interested in seeing if there might be some items for her too, so off we went.
     Once there, a very nice lady took us into a private area and began the process of measuring and interpreting a proper size for me. Oh happy day! I wasn’t 6 sizes larger than I thought. I was only 3 sizes larger. I know, that wouldn’t have been such happy news if I hadn’t spent a week thinking I was twice the size. I feel like I lost a lot of weight this way! Just let me have my delusions.
     The sales lady began to bring in some very nice bras, but the same thing happened just like at Nordstroms. The bras were for much taller women. After two hours, about 50 bras, two sales clerks, and one seamstress, I had no hope. They were all frustrated, I was depressed. I finally asked to see some sports bras in the newly measured size so that I would at least have something which fit right.
Lo and behold, they fit and were comfortable! They aren’t perfect, but for whatever reason they don’t poke, prod, or consolidate boobs. They are a little too high across the top, but cleavage has never been my thing anyway. Highly overrated if you’re on the back side of it. I bought one in each color and went away happily.
     What I discovered after a little digital research is that I should be looking for some petite plus bras. It sounds like an oxymoron, but it makes sense. Not all large breasted women are big-boned. Some of us need extra support in a smaller square foot area. When I recover from this episode, I plan to order some of the petites and check them out.
     My friend was not so lucky. I guess I wore the store out so bad they never did show her any of the convertible bras she was hoping to find. I think I owe her another shopping trip. I hope it’s shoes this time.

So When Do We Get a Gift?

     What scares me the most in the current economic climate is not the lack of teaching materials, not the loss of classroom space, not even the constant anxiety of whether or not I will have a job next year. What scares me is how when times get tough and powers that be start looking at cuts, first on the chopping block in many states seems to focus on either cutting education for gifted children or modifying it to uselessness. I have taught that demographic for a decade, raised two g/t darlings of my own for 2 1/2 decades, and walked the gifted walk myself for five plus decades (never mind how many pluses go with that.) These children are very close to my heart and mind and I am unapologetically passionate about them.

     Over the years I have watched services ebb and flow for gifted children depending on the political climate.  Right now, the climate is not a friendly one across this country for those at the top of the academic ladder. I hear administrators and education pundits push for a new age in learning where each child is addressed as an individual. Apparently, that idea of individuality works unless you are one of those who have long ago mastered the minimum skills sanctioned by those who decide on curriculum. Advanced thinkers such as Sir Ken Robinson (http://sirkenrobinson.com/skr/who) push for educational individuality and more fostering of creativity in our students. He isn't speaking about just gifted students, or just average students, or just those students with learning difficulties, he means all of them. You hear the same message from Daniel Pink (http://www.danpink.com/), George Lucas (http://www.edutopia.org/), Sylvia Rimm (http://www.sylviarimm.com/), and many more. But by the time the message sinks down to the local school level, the quest for individuality is watered down and interest is directed only toward those the school districts fear will lower their public rankings.

     I live in a state where education of those identified as above the norm is mandated. But the definition is left deliberately vague, and both identification methods and appropriate services are ideas left twisting in the wind. Identification can range from testing by licensed professionals all the way to a teacher who needs to get a child out of her hair for a little while each week. Services can range from a magnet school all the way to sitting in the back of the regular classroom writing an extra report to keep a child busy. Oversight of services for those in need of gifted services is spotty at best and left to school boards who may or may not understand the needs of all students in their district.

     Perhaps the biggest problem is that any attempts to define "gifted" leave much to be desired. Is it a physical condition? Is it environmental or genetic? Is it learned? Does it change over time? And one of the biggest questions...how can I get it if I don't already have it? That question alone is what makes it one of the most misunderstood educational labels of all time.

     There are advances in cognitive science which are making some headway into understanding what make the gifted different from the norm (NIMH, http://www.nimh.nih.gov/science-news/2006/cortex-matures-faster-in-youth-with-highest-iq.shtml, Rubinstein, http://www.edutopia.org/multiple-intelligences-brain-research, just for two). We're still a long way from having a good answer to most of the questions about how humans learn, but we do know we don't all learn the same way.

     What I can tell you is from my in-the-pit-hands-on-living-it-everyday perspective: gifted children ARE very different from the mainstream students teachers see in their classrooms on a daily basis. And services, curriculum, and expectations MUST differ for these students. If you can go into a mixed ability classroom and teach a divergent-thinking lesson to everyone that's wonderful and should be done everyday by the general classroom teacher. But bear in mind it does NOT meet the specific needs of the gifted population within that room. If instruction is understandable for all, at the same pace, and takes all learners to the exact same conclusion, it is not differentiated for anyone. Inclusion in regular classrooms may be wonderful for some children who very much need the social skills and acceptability those classes can provide. But the regular classroom is the most restrictive environment a gifted student faces in their educational career.  Its focus is on a level far below what they can achieve. Pull out programs are better than inclusion but not as good as a magnet program. Gifted students are different 24/7, not just for a few hours a day. But even magnets can boil down to simple acceleration at times and are still not the epitome for the gifted.     

     The individuality of the type of school paradigms pushed by pundits is a great fit for those identified as gifted. Being able to move through curriculum freely, without being locked down by a "manufacturing date" (Robinson, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zDZFcDGpL4U&feature=share), having an understanding of asynchronous development (Tolan, http://www.stephanietolan.com/gt_as_asynch.htm), and allowing students to collaborate with whomever they need to, whenever they need to (NAGC, http://www.nagc.org/index.aspx?id=162 and Tinzmann, http://www.arp.sprnet.org/admin/supt/collab2.htm) are concepts which have been endorsed as best practices for the gifted for many years. It's no surprise this type of differentiation would also benefit all learners. We should not, however, walk back these practices at the gifted level as we strive to pull forward all other learners. It's counterproductive.

     For now, we need to recognize that being identified gifted means a child has needs not able to be met in a current general education classroom with the regular curriculum. They are a special needs population and need educators highly specialized in understanding and addressing their needs. If the needs can be addressed within the mainstream then the label of gifted is just that...a label, not a learning issue. Just as schools and classrooms differ across districts, states, and especially countries, the needs of students within those classrooms will also widely differ. And it explains why only one definition of giftedness doesn't always fit in our mobile society.

     My school district is beginning a ground breaking summit process this week which promises to listen to and address community concerns and expectations. As we and many other school districts work to transform education into a 21st century model we must focus on the differences in our students and include those differing abilities they bring to the table. Talking about looking at the individual child while thinking of only the ones who fit a neat little pre-determined box of "individuality" is no better than what we have now.

     I've never been fond of the term gifted. Not my students, children, nor I have ever been given anything. But if you're out shopping, what we really want is an abilities-appropriate education.
*Addendum 9/20- new very interesting study: http://www.edweek.org/ew/articles/2011/09/20/05gifted.h31.html?tkn=SSNF3NjKOeqLBnXZsTgaiy4hGyOTdXytDhAI&cmp=clp-edweek

Ch-ch-cha-changes

     A new school year is knocking on the door and already the whispers have begun. "They're making changes." "They" is different in each school district, and "changes" seem to be pretty much amorphous. All that the teachers seem to know is that change is coming.

In my district we have a new superintendent. He is a shaker-upper and some teachers are waiting with great anticipation and some with great consternation. Those reactions are pretty much just what they always are when change is coming. But it didn't start with the new superintendent and it didn't start this summer.

     In many, many conversations about the state of education and where it is going, I have heard and read about how the current system is not working and that we need a transformation. For ten years I have been waiting to hear what kind of transformation that should be. For a long time, educational change was synonymous with technology. That led to the misinterpretation that just adding a computer to the lesson plans would make it all better. Even worse, it led to a me-thee attitude that if you didn't use tech, you were a bad teacher, and if you did use it, you approached awesomeness.

     The real problem is not with technology. Tech is a tool. The changes are coming with a new attitude and implementation of what education means for our students.

     We have been educating the masses with an assembly line technique. Through the years it became apparent that more and more learners were not able to be fitted with normal factory parts. It took some heart, some understanding, some research, and even some court cases to reach the point where we understood that there were outliers whose needs were not being met in the standard classroom. These students were grouped into various sub-populations and we thought we were rocking the system with a good thing. What a surprise that it only made a dent in the issues of education.

     What we fail to realize is that each and every student is an individual sub-pop. There may be some overlap, but no one learner is exactly like the next. It doesn't matter how many labels you place on a student, you can't teach him or her in the same way you did last year or ten years ago. Change is inevitable because we never deal with the same population.

     I don't have answers. I teach a specific sub-pop so my ideas and beliefs are skewed. Applying the  logic of Christensen's Disruptive Innovation (http://www.claytonchristensen.com/disruptive_innovation.html) to my students lets me understand that change comes from the un-served and the under-served. If we think of each student as under-served in some way or another we begin to see the magnitude of the problem.

     We have many educators who are great teachers based on current parameters of today's schools, but who resist the (no-longer-new) tools of the age. They don't see that these tools are not the threat. The changes coming for these teachers are that we have been grouping for economy, mass-producing curriculum, and measuring learners based on accumulation of facts, not the application of ideas, and these practices need to cease. Our standardized testing only grades and ranks the ability to accumulate, not the connection of the learning. The tools of tech are making mere accumulation obsolete. Will those educators still be considered great teachers when the whole point of education has shifted and they're still playing Jeopardy and Trivial Pursuit? They sure can be, but not without changing.

Don't Mess With Mama

     In perhaps an odd choice for a suburban mom/elementary school teacher, I recently accepted my husband's invitation and joined him in a class to get our concealed carry licenses. Yes, guns. My husband has always had interesting choices for date nights. Our first date ever was ghost hunting, but that's another story.

     We signed up for a ten hour class with DFW Shooters, taught by a very calm and patient man named Travis Bond. Far, far more calm and patient than I would be if faced with 22 strangers packing heat. He did an excellent job of talking us through gun safety and the responsibilities of carrying a weapon of any kind.

     I grew up with a dad who is a hunter and former Navy guy, so it was no big deal to see guns in the house. Dad is very aware of his guns and not once do I ever remember seeing a weapon sitting around waiting for trouble. We were taught to let them alone. In my early 20s, during my broadcasting days, an old boyfriend took me to the country to make sure I could shoot due to a problem with a stalker. I proved I could shoot and kept a gun with me for a while until the incidents ended.

     But some time after that, after my children were born, I had a vivid dream about guns and death. Maybe it was the hormones, and after that I wanted nothing to do with guns. Did not want to shoot a gun. And other than Duck Hunt or Wii, that's how it stayed for years.

     Meanwhile, hubby has no problem with guns. He's former military, from a military family, and goes on WWII reenactments. He especially enjoys guns from the WWII era. Over the years he had convinced me to at least keep a gun close by if he went out of town. When he asked if I wanted to take the CHL class with him, I thought it might be good to have some idea about what I would do if I ever thought of pulling that gun out of the box.

     I am pleased to announce that due to the excellent information in class, I will NOT be getting a CHL at this time. This is not due to a failure on my part nor on the part of Mr. Bond. Both of us performed admirably. But I learned that a CHL is a serious matter, not to be sought for the heck of it. As Mr. Bond put it, CHL holders are held to a higher standard of gun owners. This license actually is noted on your record and law enforcement is aware of it if you are stopped. With Texas laws, I can legally have my little gun for my protection in my home with no need for a CHL. I really never had any plans to take one with me anywhere else.

     I am a teacher and live in a world of children. I would not be able to have one at work. My neighborhood is full of my students. I run around with teachers and moms. At this time, I don't have an overwhelming reason to be armed while going to Sprouts or Mardel's.

     However, times do change. I reserve the right to be so armed if I see the need, and I appreciate the knowledge I gained in the CHL class. I won't hesitate to visit Mr. Bond again if circumstances warrant. I also plan to go on more dates with my husband which involve a gun range.

     For the record, I passed both parts of the qualifications, test and range. That paper doll guy did not survive my Rambo-ness. For your protection, you might want to call before coming to visit me after dark.

This Chick Don't Tweet

     I'm very saddened to report that I am not the tech diva so many of my co-workers think I am. I love playing with tech tools and love sharing them with my students and friends. I love my perceived ability to find uses for most tech advances along with my problem-solving abilities which I have used in fitting the tools to the tasks. But methinks I have met my match...Twitter.

     I've had a Twitter account for more than two years. I signed up to keep track of some educator awards; you know, just in case I was getting a visit from the prize patrol. Then, I followed a fast food place to see if I could win a soda. After that, I added my daughter and several educator related threads I was already following on Facebook. But other than that, my feed was limited to just a few occasional tweets when some free giveaway was calling my name. I rarely checked on it. Pretty much everyone and everything I followed I also saw on FB. Once in awhile, at conferences, I would take in a Twitter class in an effort to be less of a twit, but still was unable to wrap my mind around a single large question...WHY?

     Then, summer came and I thought I would push my mind into the tweety bird. In just the past two weeks I have taken two classes about Twitter. I know how to find people and chats to follow. I know about all kinds of apps for all my devices to help me better organize the people and chats. But I still just can't figure out why I need to chase the chats.

     It may have something to do with the fact that I teach elementary school and even if my students had a twitter account of their own (which they are not supposed to have) I would not be virtual friends with them. It may have something to do with already being exposed to more threads than I can tie on Facebook and the many, many blogs and articles I read each week. It may have something to do with being too verbose for a mere 140 characters. It could be that I just don't care what others are doing or saying 24/7 (Sorry Brittney, Kim, and Charlie). It could just be that I'm too old. Naw, it can't be that.

     But whatever it is, it simply comes down to not being able to find a need to tweet. I can play with it and will probably continue to do so, but I'm taking the pressure off myself to forcibly make a space in my life for the tiny tweets. If it works out one day I'll be ready. But until then, I will be content to bore my friends with my FB posts and enlighten anyone in the world with this blog. That should be enough- cheep, cheep.

One Size Never Fits Right

     I was given an opportunity to attend a very good edtech conference this week, the Southwest Building Learning Communities conference by Alan November's group. One of my friends was unable to attend all three days and allowed me to take her place on the final day. (Thank you Kathryn!)  I had heard of the conference before but it's expensive so I didn't even ask.  I'm very glad I went! 

     The keynote session by Mr. November was not anything novel, but certainly reinforced the beliefs I have in engagement, relevance, and how sad it is when gifted students have to cobble together their own educations. The conference assistants were young people who obviously had  far more knowledge into tech than I do. One young man talked about his efforts in creating an iphone app in order to prove mastery in a chemistry class rather than take two pencil and paper tests. I smiled all the way through his talk, until he said he worked on it, with and without the teacher, pretty much on his own time. So, he learned what he needed for his app, which was everything from the unit being taught, developed and created an instructional tool that would help his peers also learn the material, but had to continue on with regular classroom instruction? What?!?  

     I know the teacher was doing the best he could in addressing the needs of all of his students including this one, but how sad is it that there's nothing more tailored for students achieving above the "normal" expectations?  It's wonderful the teacher was able to see how much more this young man could do and find a way to encourage his learning. But I wonder if that teacher had to find the way, by himself, to help outside the parameters of normal learning curves. And that is where this conference was pointing...teachers helping teachers. 

     The student also mentioned that he did not always attend a school which fostered his learning through the use of tech. He was very pleased this one did have the tools he could use to go beyond the norm.  And that's the other place the conference went...using the tools available to expand learning environments. Where would this wonderful young person been without them? Would he have tuned out school?  Where would he be if his school had the tools but no teachers willing to take the risk to use them? Not a pretty thought. 

     I hear stories like this young man's quite a lot. The tales are inspiring and hopeful. But I admit that I'm beginning to become a little bitter, too. Why, after all these years, are these recollections so unusual? Why aren't they normal? When is the world of education going to rouse from its apathy and realize that one size does not fit all? It's imperative that we stop squandering the education of our students...ALL our students.  Do we want everyone meeting minimum skill levels? Or do we want each and every child to become the very best they can be- lifelong learners, problem solvers, critical thinkers, creative souls? 

     Yes, Mr. November, I had to memorize the states and capitals. No, I don't know why, nor can I still do it. I bet I can find the info when I need it. Austin, right? I NEEDED to know that.