Educational Pit Stop

What I said:

“You can press the accelerator as hard as you want, but at some point your car’s not going to go any faster.  If you’re in a Ferrari you’re set, but if you’re driving a KIA you’ve got a long way to go…  Either way, if you always drive at your top speed, pretty soon you’re going to blow your engine!”

We were looking at the 2011-2012 Math TEKS (Texas Essential Knowledge and Skills) for grades K-6.  The TEKS tell us are what the state has decided we must be teaching.  It also lets us know what will be on the state’s new STAAR standardized test.

When I was in college studying to become a teacher the catchphrase “Developmentally Appropriate” was being tossed around like hash at the local diner.  Every lesson we planned and every activity put together had to take into consideration not only where the students are educationally, but also what they are developmentally ready understand. 

However, the more we looked at the TEKS we saw an all too familiar and disturbing trend.  Math skills that only two or three years ago were on fifth grade level, were now popping up at the fourth grade level.  And things from the fourth grade TEKS are now in the third grade TEKS, and so on and so forth. 

The real trouble is we have fat cats in Austin who have never met a child who wasn’t from a well to do, nurturing home.  So they can’t understand why EVERY child can’t just get the help he or she needs.  When you live in a home where your mother and father value education, and have the time and ability to help you understand your homework, then you are in luck… you’re also in the minority. 

The state, in its infinite wisdom, has decided that the way to fix its national educational rankings is to demand that elementary school students be instructed at developmentally inappropriate levels.  Each year the “rigor” of the required educational materials increases, and the same students fall farther and farther behind.  I’m sorry, but when you’re teaching pre-algebra to third and fourth graders there is something wrong. 

So, when does it end?

Do we start having all kindergarteners take the PSAT?  Maybe we can require preschoolers to pass a Play-do calculus exam.  Or wouldn’t it be better if we introduced improper fractions to a child in the uterus?      

If this were an Indy 500 race, every student would be in pretty much the same well tuned, ready to race vehicle.  But Texas’ students are looking more like a bunch of cars at the local drag strip.  Some of them are ready to race, but most are in desperate need of a pit stop. 

A Sudden Gush of Warmth

I love teaching for more reasons that I can name. 

When you are surrounded by young minds and young hearts who not only enjoy being around you, but also think you’re cool…well baby, you’ve got it made. 

When you’re at the grocery story and small bodies with large voices rush at you while screaming your name…you feel like a movie star.

When every joke you tell explodes the room with laughter… you start to believe you’re truly funny.

When a parent comes to you and says, “I’m an physics professor at SMU, but my son tells me I don’t understand how to divide correctly, can you help me?” … you know you’ve hit the big time.

When parents of former students who are now in high school see you in line at Starbucks, and jump up and pay for your coffee… you see you made a difference.  

When a high school senior, number six in his graduating class, asks you to come to the districts Top Ten Graduates Luncheon as his most influential teacher… you realize your life has been meaningful.

And finally, when a student walks up to talk and calls you “Dad”… you get a sudden gush of warmth in your heart. 

7 Degrees

It’s funny what a difference 7 degrees can make. 

If you have 7 degrees from universities, that boosts your credibility.

If you have 7 degrees less than 360, you don’t quite have a circle.

If you have 7 degrees lower on your thermostat, you’re sleeping in a cold room.

I came home from school last Wednesday (12/14/11) and noticed a slight chill in the air.  Thanks to our programmable thermostats, I just assumed it wasn’t’ time for the heat to come back on so I didn’t give it a second thought.  

I had been home a couple of hours when I realized something was wrong, and of course by this time it was almost 6:00pm, so there was no way to get anyone there before Thursday.

The repair guy, Ryan, shows up on Thursday (12/15/11) and discovers we have a bad blower motor.  Not a huge problem, fairly easy to replace, not too expensive.  However, they can’t find one Dallas, and it will have to be ordered.  Should be here in a week (12/22/11).  I’m sorry, but we live in Dallas, Texas.  This is a fairly large metropolitan area, and you’re telling me these guys can’t put their hands on a blower motor for a Lennox furnace???  Turns out… they can’t.

To our surprise it shows up on Monday (12/19/11).  Ryan comes back and spends, what seems like to me, a long time up in the attic.  When he reemerges he informs me that they sent the wrong motor.  It looks the same, but it is 240 volts and is designed for Canada’s electrical systems. 

It wasn’t too bad at first, but now we’re down in the 30’s. 

On Friday morning (12/23/11) our thermostat read 55 degrees.  And baby, it was cold.  I bought some space heaters and after about 30 minutes the temperature was at 62 degrees.  So I think we’re going to make it until next Tuesday (12/27/11).

Like I said, it’s funny what a difference 7 degrees can make. 

"coffee"

I wrote this poem for my school, but decided to share it...just to prove that I am still writing!

enjoy,
Hugh

"Coffee"

Our year is almost over, and it’s time for us to shout,
So lift your head, strap on a smile, there isn’t time to pout

We have a lot to do today, before we close the door,
So grab a cup of “coffee,” and down your gullet pour

Yes “coffee” is the PC term, for whatever soothes your pain,
Mrs. Lesher brews a tasty cup, too much you’ll go insane

With “coffee” cup in hand, spiked just the way you like,
It’s with a smile and sweet “Hello!” that we’ll greet every tike

Then any time the day gets hard, just grin and take a sip,
And let your “coffee” warm your soul, and try hard not to slip

For you’re on stage for one last show, the whole class watching you,
So keep your cup close by your side, it’s “coffee” through and through

You’ll play the role fantastically, and wait for curtain call,
Then stagger as you walk them out, and try hard not to fall

And as you wave goodbye to each you can almost hear them say,
“My teacher drinks Mrs. Lesher’s coffee every single day!”

So take your final nip of “coffee” at least until next year,
Have a safe and healthy holiday, that’s filled with “coffee” cheer!

A Day of 2's

I decided to write something brand new today,

But the darn number 2 just would not go away

I could not pinpoint why there was 2 on my brain,

The cause of this quandary I tried hard to gain

With 2 on my mind as I started to rhyme,

When I realized that 2 is not odd, yet it’s prime

And while that brought a smile to this poet’s cute face,

The idea of 2 I still could not erase

As my fingers keep pecking away at the keys,

I suddenly thought, “Hey!  I’ve got just 2 knees!”

I couldn’t keep 2 of things out of my head,

If I’d had big 2 guns, I might just be dead

2 hands and 2 thumbs where too much to bear,

2 ears and 2 eyes, but I just didn’t care

With 2’s all around me I was feeling shut in,

And that when 2 nightmares, they both did begin

2 feet, arms and elbows when would these 2’s stop?

2 left shoes, 2 right shoes Dragnet had 2 cops

My shirt’s missing 2 buttons, so I felt so confused,

If I had 2 narcotics, I think both would be used

I put my head down, feeling much like a fool,

When I suddenly realized, we’ve just 2 days of school!

My Left Shoe

I woke up yesterday morning and wrote this poem. 
It just came out of my head, and that's all the explanation I have.


enjoy,
Hugh

My Left Shoe

I woke up this morning, like I usually do,

And there was no trace of my silly left shoe

I searched and I searched, for what felt like a year,

But my shoe’s AOL, then I let out a cheer

For you see, no left shoe is a wonderful thing,

My mind started soaring, my heart it did sing

If I’ve got no left shoe, then possibilities are endless,

Without a left shoe, I can never be friendless

With my thoughts marching on, I advanced to the door,

I walked with a limp, my left foot touching floor

But that didn’t stop me, I couldn’t slow down,

The floor might be cold, but my face wouldn’t frown

Left shoe revelations were popping up fast,

There was no sign of ending, I knew they would last

My left foot unclothed, made the world come alive,

To feel the world’s wonders, I just had to stride

With my new worldly view, about to explode,

My heart held a message, that I had to unload

I searched for a pulpit, or someplace to speak,

My fingers shook hard, my knees getting weak

And when my left foot found a place it could stand,

I looked down to find my left shoe in my hand.  

Compensation Strategies

I don’ t know what it is about me that makes it extra hard for me to cope with difficult students.  Actually, I do know and it’s called a Closed Head Injury.  I’ve been running and hiding from that label for almost 22 years, but I’m not as young as I used to be and somehow it always seems to sniff me out.    

I think back to a time when I was deep in denial about the severity of my injuries.  I had doctors and therapists telling me that things like multitasking, problem solving and frustration tolerance were typically problem areas for Closed Head Injury survivors and I needed to learn some strategies to help me compensate.  I, however, would listen and think, “Yeah, but you don’t know me!  This may be how it is for your other survivors, but I’m atypical.” But I had no idea.

I have a couple of students this year who, for some reason, just seem to push all my buttons.  It’s driving me crazy.  Top that off with the fact that this time of year is hard for those very same students, and you have a lit bomb with a very short fuse.

For most of my students the Christmas season is fun.  They look forward to the usual things.  Time off from school, seeing family, more food than they can eat, lots of presents, but most of all time off from school.  I grew up in this world and it makes sense to me.  

I know there are other worlds out there, but they always seemed so far away.  I have to keep reminding myself that for some of my students time off from school means staying home alone.  It means no breakfast and no lunch and sometimes no diner.  It means no positive interactions with anyone.  It means watching TV and getting glimpses of what the holiday season means...just not for them.

In 1991, when I was in Cognitive Remediation Therapy working on compensation strategies for my stupid closed hear injury, nobody offered any compensation ideas for how to handle being face to face with a nine year old boy who is ignored at home unless he misbehaves.  And nobody gave me any strategies for compensating when you find a child who is saving empty food wrappers in her backpack.  And no one bothered to tell me that someday it would take every ounce of strength not to burst into tears. 

Yes, I have some students who are pushing my “compensation strategy” buttons on a daily basis. 

But maybe my buttons needed to be pushed.