Wow.

So, we have a system-wide email system that I've never checked. I finally figured out how to do it, and I checked it today. I found this:

Subject: Saying Goodbye

Heather,

It is always hard to say good bye to a family member. We fought, we argued, we talked about each other but yet we still cared about each other. You are talented person as well as a talented teacher. You care and love children going that extra mile to support them emotionally, financially and educationally. We just need more people like you. I will truly miss you and our Family. I wish you the very best in your future endeavors.
Sincerely
((((Principal))))

What The Hell Is Going On?!

We had our first school-wide faculty meeting today. The first official teacher day back. It was informative and just the right amount of inspirational talk combined with get your ass in gear talk--and it ended ahead of schedule!

Maybe We'll Play Uno Instead of Talk About Teacher Stuff

So, I'm Zen about the whole 4 preps thing now. I'll be fine. But the best blogging comes in a haze of fury, so there you go.
However, how funny/stupid/obviously characteristic of my school is this:

Our school is set up in "teams." Teams of teacher meet once, twice a week or sometimes daily to discuss students, issues, general teacher blahblah. I teach all the IB students, so I have been on the IB team for the past 2 years. I am now teaching every single 7th grade class, so I figured I would also be on the 7th grade team. Nope, my homeroom is 6-01 and even though they are an IB class, I will be assigned to the 6th grade team. I have to go to twice weekly meetings with teachers on a totally separate floor who teach none of the same students as me.

I hope we're cute because we sure aren't smart.

What I Don't Get About Teaching

My whole problem with the teaching profession is the fact that no one can decide if we are complete morons incapable of making the simplest of decisions or super geniuses who can change the world with a few well-placed motivational phrases and snazzy school supplies.
You have the You're An Idiot Side. To these guys, my 6 years of college and two degrees mean nothing to them. Someone else always knows better. Someone else needs to tell me which textbook to use, which topics to study and in what order to study them. Someone else knows what is best for my students, even though they may not actually know who they are. They have to tell me what needs to be hung up on my wall and how to group my students. These people reserve the right to change any and all of these instructions at any given time and not necessarily with an explanation. They want me to take all this in with no questions or concerns because I am, after all, an idiot.
Then there's the You're A Super Genius Side. They think the future is in my hands. I can take 200 students, in groups of 35-40, and in one hour a day for 3 months, make them move up 3 grade levels in reading comprehension. I can single-handedly erase years of emotional abuse and neglect, of inadequate nutrition and sub-par education all with a smile and a can-do attitude. I must be the most amazing person in the world.
The thing is, I can deal with either side. Fine, I'm a moron. Give me my stuff and leave me be. Fine, I'm a genius. Give me my stuff and leave me be. I can't deal with BOTH sides at the same time, all the time. It makes me feel mentally unstable.

It Always Happens, And Yet I'm Always Surprised.

I went up to the school today. Principal is fired and I still work there. I never believe anything in this city until I see it with my own eyes.

Anyway, last year I was assigned to teach IB 6th,7th, and 8th grade. If you're not a teacher, let me just tell you---that's a lot. a lot of planning. they made this big presentation to us about it because it's actually against union contract. Hey, IB teachers, they said, we know it's too much work, but we'll give you good kids and a sweet schedule, you can handle it right?! right! yaaay three preps. So we begrudgingly said yes. The four of us had three preps and while I at no point wanted to kill myself or others, it wasn't exactly ideal.
Well, they told me that we are doing the same thing this year. Okay, again, not ideal, but I can deal with it. BUT WAIT! I went on the online grading system to see my classes, and lookie loo, I not only have my three grades of IB classes, I also teach 3 classes of regular ed 7th grade. FOUR preps! FOUR. They didn't even tell me to my face. Like, it's just going to slip under my radar or something? Last year there was the big ta-da about the 3 preps because they knew it would be an issue. Oh, but that's because other teachers were involved. Now, it's just me. getting screwed. Again. Maybe they know about the blog? They want to make sure I have something to talk about?
I have several issues with this whole business.
1. the not telling me part. Man up already!
2. the part where nobody else is doing it. if we all had a little come to Jesus meeting where they told the staff that everybody was going to have to step it up a little bit because we were shorthanded-well, okay then. Nope. Just Vinson.
3. the part about sucky people getting to do less work. sucky people should be fired, not given a lighter workload because they are sucky.
4. the taking advantage of me because I love my kids part. They KNOW I'll end up doing it, because otherwise kids get screwed over. and that is complete bullshit.

Breaking News

So, in a weird and yet not totally unexpected twist, my principal is no longer my principal. She has been reassigned. I don't know where she's going...I just know it's away.

I feel weird about it. I should be totally excited because she is CLEARLY insane. She wasn't a good principal. But, I'm not totally excited. I'm kindof freaking out.

At least I knew what I was getting with her, you know? I had gotten used to her brand of crazy. I knew what exactly I could and couldn't do, I knew how the school was ran. Now, who the hell knows what is going to happen. They could send us somebody awesome--but the chances of that are slim to none. It's pretty much a toss-up between complete tyrant and hapless loser. Nobody cares about us enough to give us someone actually worthwhile. We'll more than likely get another principal who has also been reassigned because they sucked it up real bad at their last school.

So, I'm in limbo right now. Anything anybody said two months ago--what I'm teaching, who I'm teaching, what teachers I'm teaching with, really means nothing. I have no idea what the vibe in the building will be, how the whole thing is going to run, how the kids are going to respond to this new person, how this new person treats teachers, etc.,etc.,etc. How effin' scary is that?

A+!

So, last week was 8th Grade Week. 8th grade week is the reason I never post anything anymore, because I basically had to do it all myself and it ruined my life for about 2 months. We had 4 trips (six flags, skating, Lion King in NYC and a class picnic) and a prom. I'll get some more information about all that on here once I can process it.
Anyway, it was kind of a given that after 8th Grade Week, the 8th graders would taper off in attendance. Promotional Exercises are on June 8th. All the teachers not so subtly encouraged them (without actually saying anything) that they didn't really have to come to school. Principal, meanwhile, informed them that if they miss any school, or even come in late, they can't walk at "graduation." (I know they are only 8th graders, YOU know they are only 8th graders...apparently, this does not matter to anyone but us.)
So, that is all well and good. Principals are supposed to say "come to school," school really isn't over until next week anyway, blah blah blah.
However, if you are going to demand that these kids come to school, HOW ABOUT YOU NOT ANNOUNCE OVER THE INTERCOM ON FIVE SEPARATE OCCASIONS THAT GRADES ARE DUE TODAY???
So what, exactly, am I supposed to do with these children?

"My mother knows I don't use periods, so I don't even care."

Well.
The kids are in the computer lab typing their research papers on social issues. We spent three days in the library researching, and two days in the computer lab typing. Their papers have to be 500 words. I taught them how to use the "word count" function in Microsoft Word, so I have to get word count updates every five seconds.
Plagarism is a huge HUGE HUGE issue. I get it. It wasn't that long ago that I was typing papers. I want to go back and ask my teachers, was it so completely obvious? My kids will copy/past entire paragraphs. In the past four days, I have said, "IF YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT THE WORD MEANS, DO NOT PUT IT IN YOUR PAPER!" about, oh, 3948320948093483204i32 times.
So, we'll be in the computer lab, a kid will raise his/her hand to say they are finished. I will walk over, start reading the essay and then find a big word. "Uh, Taylor, what does it mean to have democratic values?"..."Ummm, it means...uhh..."
Right, you're aren't finished.
Everyone else will just sigh and go back to work (using the "synonym" function to try and find a word they do know). Oh, but not Tre. Tre's issue was the death penalty. He told me he was finished. I asked him if he knew all the words in his paper. He said, "most." I told him I wasn't coming over there until he knew what his paper said. Five minutes later, he says he is finished. I walk over.
"Tre, what does 'consulted' mean?"
"It means, like, the same as assaulted."
"No. it doesn't."
"Well, it does to me."
"Tre, I can call this keyboard ice cream, but it's still a keyboard and it's not ice cream."
"Uggghhh. Can't you just look at the rest?"
"fine." 5 seconds later "what does 'a moral issue' mean?"
"that's what the librarian told me to put so I put it."
"But what does it mean?"
"I don't know. She told me it."
"IF YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT THE WORD MEANS, DO NOT PUT IT IN YOUR PAPER."
"Well, you said 500 words, and I wrote 500 words, so I don't even care."
"You don't care that you have an essay that you don't understand? What about this part, it says, 'is the death penalty the death penalty is'?"
"It's two separate sentences."
"Where's the period?"
"I don't use periods when I write."
"Tre, is this the essay you want to turn in to me? Because if it is, I'm going to have to have a conference with your mother."
*See title.*

All You Need Is Some Blood and Guts

It is a bad time of year to be teaching 8th grade. They are so ready to be out of there, but there's more than a month left of school. They don't care about anything. I swear I could be at the front of the room saying, "The answer to all of life's problems is..." or "Tomorrow's lottery numbers are..." and most of the class would still be talking or drawing doodles or making googly eyes at somebody else in the class.
We're talking about the American Revolution, so I showed them "The Patriot." We talked about all the ways it was wrong (you know, like how the entire war is not one dude's revenge mission) and I kept pausing it to show them important parts of history (how the British and Americans fought, the bundling bag, etc.) They LOVED it. And I don't think love is too strong of a word. After Mel Gibson kills 20 guys all by himself, they were hooked. I would even warn them, "this part is going to be gross, so if that bothers you, you'll probably want to look away." That just made their attention more rapt.
I had people crying when one guy died, and at the end, one entire class stood up and cheered.
I don't want to be THAT teacher. The movie teacher. Ugh. The thought disgusts me. But wow. For three whole days all of my classes were at full attention.

Blowin' Smoke

1. I walked into the office and the secretary told me that Deonte was in trouble, he was allegedly smoking weed in the bathroom. She asked me to go ask him if it was true.

He was sitting in a chair in Principal's back office. I didn't go all the way in, I just kind of stood at the doorway and whispered his name. He looked up, and I mouthed to him, "were you smoking?" and made the "smoking" motion with my hand.

His answer:

"Um, ehh...not reaaally."

2. Rakeem came into class with his eyes half closed. I asked him if he was okay,and he said, "Ehh, heh, heh, yeaaaah. Do you have anything to eat?"
Riiiight. I sent him down the hall to another teacher, who just so happens to be his uncle. "Rakeem is looking a little funny today."
Rakeem comes back to me after school to tell me that it was his allergies that made him act that way. "Yeah, that would be a fantastic excuse if it didn't take you FOUR HOURS to come up with it."