A simple departure from expectations

A friend in high school once accused me of being nothing but an overgrown hippie.

The budding punk rocker in me was horrified at the time (and just to be clear, my hair never came close to hippie standards for length).

But in my dotage, I’ve come to accept there may have been some truth in that. Maybe this former Marine has a streak of Peace & Love hidden down deep inside.

Case in point: When my first daughter was born and I at last held her in my hands, I had one thing to say. Right there amid the business-like chatter of the nurses, I knew the first word I wanted this beautiful new creature to hear from me:

Love.

I grew up surrounded by a passion for the power and beauty of words, after all. My mother, a sometime Latin teacher, was a philologist in the purest sense: a lover of words. Her greatest joy seemed to be telling stories, stories that used words to spin laughter or sadness from her listeners. Devouring books and learning to speak other languages were the hallmarks of becoming an adult in my family. As a young child, I stood in awe of my mother’s ability to discuss me with my older siblings in French — leaving me completely frustrated and out of the conversation.

So when I stood beside the bed of my dying mother Friday morning, watching her peacefully slide away as her breathing slowed, I clung to only a single idea. I leaned over and pressed my cheek against hers, my lips just above the glowing red oxygen monitor clipped to her earlobe. I wanted to say one thing, wanted her to hear one word at the last.

Dorothy Manring

Love.

Here comes round 2!

Monday we’re back at it — taking the online portion of the state’s annual mandatory exams. Here are a few pointers from my student-made wall of ISTEP+ tips:

Another good reason for scientists in the classroom

About six weeks left in my partnership with a scientist and I am still finding reasons to be thankful for this opportunity.

photo courtesy IUPUI GK-12 Program

Reason #137: She saves lives.

A couple Thursday’s ago Kyra Noerr (nee Kline) was in my room on our prep period and I had to leave for a meeting. I successfully escaped the meeting as quickly as possible but when I stepped out into the empty halls, I saw one of my students.

The teen was not doing well. She could only make it down the corridor by keeping one hand on the lockers. I caught up with her and asked if everything was OK, and she sheepishly said she was a “little” dizzy.

I hadn’t seen anyone  that unsteady on their feet since I was on board the USS Belleau Wood in a North Pacific gale. She made me seasick just watching her. I asked if she’d seen the nurse, and she said she had but now was being sent back to class.

She was in no shape to learn, so I walked the student back to my empty classroom. Mrs. Noerr kept an eye on her while I tried to reach the nurse by phone. No luck, so I thought we’d let the student rest for a bit and drink some water. She seemed to be OK while she was sitting, so I stepped out to check something with another teacher.

By the time I got back a few minutes later at the start of passing time, the student was on the floor and Noerr was over her, checking her pulse and trying to make sure she was OK.

I called the nurse, who was soon on her way. A crowd started to gather outside my room and some students were already in the classroom. I told them to sit down, then went into the hall and closed the door behind me before directing the kids arriving for my next class to another teacher’s room.

The nurse soon arrived and the student has fully recovered, safe and sound as far as I know.

But it almost didn’t turn out that way. See, while I was assuming the student would be fine with a little rest, Noerr was far more worried. If you feel faint, she told her, be sure to tell me.

Which is what the teen did soon after I left the room, with a woozy “Mrs. Noerrrrr …”

She was sliding out of her chair, head arcing straight toward a sharp corner of the table or the hard floor beneath when Noerr caught her and eased her gently down. The teen was conscious at first, but passed out at least twice, revived both times by Noerr.

A small thing, I suppose. People faint all the time.

But I can’t help but wonder what might have happened if Noerr had been back at her university. Would I have left the student alone for a few minutes in my room? If so, would I have returned to find her unconscious and badly injured? On my own, would I have been able to help her and keep the other students out of the way?

Those questions are all just hypothetical, and I am very, very glad that they are.

A little progress revealed

Here’s to a little victory this week.

Not mine – I can’t take any credit for this. I can boast, though, on behalf of my school — and marvel at what it took to accomplish.

We started the last rotation of our classes designed to focus on improving test scores. These are the first classes of the day, before students go on to the regular English, math, science and other classes. In my case, that means helping shore up some of the geometry knowledge of students who have shown signs of weakness in that area.

Other teachers are focusing on reading skills or problem solving – we’re breaking up the whole school into small groups of students with similar needs and trying to help them.

In my case, I have around 25 students in two 30-minute sessions and about 90 percent are ones I’ve never met.

We start the course with a pre-test to see what the students might already know and that’s what put the bounce in my step this week.

See, these guys have plenty of math still to learn. That’s OK – that’s what I get paid to teach them.

But they could put together a clear, coherent answer to a short-answer question.

And that’s a sea change. To see a majority of any class consistently restate the question, declare the answer and then support it with facts – well, it was new to me. This is with no review, no reminders – straight out of the gate they could assemble a solidly structured answer.

The staggering part is just what it took to get there: a massive, schoolwide effort stretching across two academic years. From math to social studies, students had practice using the same techniques and procedures in every class. That persistent consistency seems to have been key.

The needle is pretty stubborn in middle school, so seeing it move — even a little — is heady stuff.

An unexpected change at the top

Still trying to make sense of word that our new superintendent is retiring at the end of the year.

I can’t claim to have known her well, but I’d been impressed by her enthusiastic support of my blogging (which, let’s face it, has the potential to become a superintendent’s biggest headache — an unmanaged voice speaking out from within the institution. I continue to think allowing that requires courage, and appreciate that).

Her announcement came after a board meeting and out of the blue, which made the journalist in me fear a conflict with the board led to her departure. But that’s purely speculation — no official explanation, other than personal reasons, were suggested in the e-mail and there haven’t even been any juicy rumors floating around. Given that she was essentially groomed to succeed her predecessor,  a conflict with the school board seems unlikely.

And her departure is a pretty abstract notion down here in 8th grade. A new leader could have a profound impact on my students and my career trajectory, but it’s hard to remember that when you’re just trying to keep students from using the f-bomb in the halls.

So as much as I wonder where this change may take the district, I kept the focus on genetics today as students wrote their own problems to solve (including, in an example of a student forgetting that gender matters in reproduction, a cross of Yoda and Darth Vader. I didn’t find out what traits the offspring were supposed to inherit).

I shared a New Year’s greeting with my South Asian students from US diplomats in India (which they enjoyed) and ended on a high note — at the end of school I scrounged three almost new pencils off the hallway floor.

A voice for change

As someone who is (perhaps too) often willing to sit on the sidelines until the dust settles, I have nothing but respect for  a long-time friend who is courageously raising plenty of dust all on his own.

As long as he’s been a physician’s assistant, I’ve known Jim Anderson to be working against inequities in health care — he’s the one who first told me that race could affect how much pain medication a doctor prescribes. Seems crazy, but research has shown black folks with the same pain as white folks may not get as much pain medicine.

So I suppose it’s not surprising Jim is leading the push to remove a speaker from his professional organization’s annual conference — famed surgeon Ben Carson. Carson is fresh from loathsome comments at the Conservative Political Action Conference, comments about gays and lesbians Jim feels his group should not support, regardless of the speaker’s politics.

But he can put it better than I can, which he does eloquently over at HuffPo.

Wrapping up Spring Break

Clearing the last major calendar change and I think I can say I like the new balanced academic year.

It meant going back to work before the end of July and will keep me in school into June. But three two-week breaks a year are a definite upside.

My unscientific sense is that students haven’t lost a lot of ground during the time off — though I am curious to see what attitudes are like when we resume classes next week. Now we are just eight weeks from the end of the year, which seems to be the roughest time for 8th graders who long ago began dreaming of high school.

One thing does seem to remain the same, whether your time off comes in chunks of one week or two: not everything you’d hoped gets done.

So while our bathroom has a new showerhead and the sink is draining swiftly again, the garden still remains a post-winter mess and some of my side projects are behind schedule. And, to be honest, I am still not done with the taxes.

Today I’ll stop by school to get some photocopies done and do a little cleaning.  The geckos have been with our scientist getting a little extra attention over break. I may put some strawberries in the window boxes ….

And one more benefit to the longer break: today I’ll get to stop by one daughter’s class as  they put on their own Wax Museum of American History.