Month: May 2017

I missed my first day of school for this year. Gillian Hart, the APN kids, and I went down to the Port of Los Angeles for the day on a field trip. We got a boat tour of the port, took a quick side trip to the Japanese Fishing Village Memorial, and finished off with a tour of the Port’s command center. Despite the rumor that APN is just like any other class at North High, we didn’t bump into any of our fellow teachers or students today. Maybe they’re going at a later date.
The tour of the port is the tour of the port–I’ve done it for enough years that it’s no big deal. Plus, of all the commerce and economics and history that the tour involves, kids are most interested by the . . . sea lions. That’s when the cameras really come out. Still, many liked seeing the outline of Catalina, some asked me what was in the shipping containers, while others just sat back and enjoyed.
The Japanese Fishing Village Memorial is so quick you would just drive right by it. There are signs,it’s right down in the port area, and it represents a horrible part of our country’s history where we took a Japanese fishing village, shipped the people off to camps, then stole their land and property. Sound familiar. Of extra importance was one of our students finding her grandparent’s name on the Memorial’s wall.
The Port’s command center is a big deal, too. The person who showed us around is the mother of a student at our school and has been a great host for the last two years. Because of an actual incident today, we weren’t allowed in some rooms, as our country’s safety outweighs our trip. But, we did get to see many things, and listen to many people, all of them very professional, and all of them who spoke to our students as if they were people. No lectures, no talking down to them. Our students were apprised of the situation at the port, that they would have to behave a certain way, and that was that.
Everything went smoothly.
Okay, everything didn’t really go smoothly. Despite the South Bay being pretty easy to navigate, our bus drivers had to have us tell them where to go. Wrong turns, going back over bridges, then back over the same bridges, heading east instead of west . . . maybe I should be a bus driver in my august years. Our driver was nice, but I felt like I was doing two jobs when navigating our bus.
What did our kids do while we saw more of the city than we needed to? They sang. They did karaoke. They laughed and smiled a lot. They hung out. Things did not go smoothly because of outside circumstances, but no one would have ever known. As they have done every place off campus, our students represented APN, North High, and our North community in a positive manner with no complaints.
For the win? A former APN student subbed for my 6th period class today. We were happy to see one another, she tamed my students for nearly two hours, and they are now “angels.” Winning.

Next year, North High will have a new principal. Chris Sheck is the principal of Magruder Middle School, it’s been rumored that he was going to be our principal for years, and now, or at least next year, he’ll take over for Dr. Richardson.
Let’s see if I can remember them all. I was hired by Sid Morrison some eighteen years ago. Not a lot of male English teachers were hired in those days, and he hired me and Matt Mishler. Funny that both of us are still around while many have come and gone.
Tim Scully was in there somewhere, as was Barry Gross. George Canady gave us a few years. Annette Alpern moved up from assistant principal to principal for many years. Then came two years of 28-yr-old Grant Litfin, four years of Matt Horvath, and four years of our current Dr. Richardson.
In my 19th year of teaching at North High I will be on my ninth principal. That’s a good thing, by the way. In teaching (and in life, I suppose) it’s nice to have something new come along. Not that it’s mattered for years, but there’s that smidgen of hope that the new person will come in and see things for what they really are, rather than what they are told.
I remain optimistic. Yeah, you read it right–optimistic. At least for now.
On another note, I thought I might have been too mean to my students yesterday when I wrote that they didn’t want to go on a free Peruvian Amazon trip because they might have to work a little. I thought that maybe their grumbling was just grumbling and they were just complaining to show how cool they were, secretly planning all along to go on this adventure. I had 65 honors kids today. Five said they were still interested. So maybe I wasn’t too mean.
When something, or someone new comes along, you want to be positive. However, I have to end this and shoot an email to our administration and dean telling them of an Instagram site that features our students in less-than-desirable ways and does not add to our brand. I hope I am the 100th person to do this because that would mean that others do not desire to tolerate this online behavior either.
Positive.

Brace yourselves. This is what it has come to. Period. No room for discussion.
One of our best teachers at North High, the great Jay Estabrook, applied for a research project last year that involved kids. Along with the paperwork, he had to interview. Needless to write, our environmental savior got selected. He ended up choosing 15 days in the Peruvian Amazon, living on a research vessel, and going off and exploring and be all scientific and stuff. That’s the short version. Oh, wait, one more thing–it’s all FREE. As in, no charge.
So, he gets to take 10 (yes, TEN!) students with him. The only catch is that they have to be in any honors class next year at North. There may be smaller ones, but that’s the biggest. There were some bulletin announcements, I talked to kids about it since I teach Honors English, but there wasn’t really a buzz about it. However, I guess kids went to the first informational meeting because I heard them talking about the program the next day. And though I did not listen to them directly, their tone was not very positive.
Estabrook walked by my room today and I asked him the gory details. From November to May of this year and next, students start setting up and doing some groundwork on whatever they’re doing. It totals 40 hours. Then, NEXT August they get to spend time doing field research in the Amazon, going on hikes and treks, reporting back with information. I don’t know–it pretty much sounds like they’d be working with scientists doing scientific things for science. In the Amazon of Peru. For free. Free.
I talked to my students and asked how many were still thinking of going. A few raised their hands, but not very definitively. They claimed that they’d have to spend time on a boat. That they’d have to work during that time. That there was all that prep from November to May. That they didn’t know what else they would do. That the boat in the picture didn’t look very nice. The bottom line–for all the work they would have to do, it wasn’t really worth it in the end.
Trip to Peru. Free. Being a scientist for two weeks in the summer. Free. Mind you, some of these kids are going to apply to colleges with some science major, but this wasn’t worth it. One of ten kids with the chance to do this. And I’m worried when they don’t read!
There. Is. No. Hope. Only Fitzcarraldo.

Today, in class, a student referred to me as a social justice warrior. He was being sarcastic and negative, but that’s totally okay. I was pushing buttons, confusing students in the process, and acting like a social justice warrior. It’s what I do. You know, that “question everything” deal and making students uncomfortable because they have to think about bigger pictures than a word search.
The bad thing about being a social justice warrior is that you have to wade through Amy Schumer’s new Snatched trailer, some Bridesmaids, some Ghostbusters (the female one), and the new Wonder Woman. We were starting with something simple–bias. Because the first couple of those movies shows women in a slapstick way, where oftentimes the female has to suffer to make the scene funny. Ghostbusters tried to have women as scientists. Wait–what? Women can be scientists? Not in Amy Schumer’s movie they can’t. I’m confused. And Wonder Woman will save the world, right after all the bridesmaids rid their bodies of Indian food.
Lots of mixed signals sent out to kids in one-way communication form. You see, there’s no talking back to Goldie Hawn rubbing too much sunscreen on her Amy Schumer daughter. It’s there, it is seen, and you have now processed it. Kids process a ton of that “suffer” comedy, too, where someone is falling, or getting hit by something, or throwing up a friend’s head. It’s hilarious until . . . we are told to take female characters seriously.
My seniors came up with Ellen, Oprah, and Michelle Obama for women who are portrayed well in the media, and who, in general, use the media to show how well they carry themselves. When asked about what female they grew up with in the media, who is was that portrayed themselves professionally, who was articulate and a role model for all, they came up with Disney characters or some characters from Nickelodeon. No real people. Two of the real women they identified have a one-word name that represents them. Cher and Roseanne must be furious that Ellen and Oprah surpassed them.
I was playing music the other day in class from a playlist I created on Spotify. All the music was from women. It was an adventure in HUH? Now, I’m not sure how many of the males they would have known if there was a playlist of male-dominated music, but there were not many options for them. They know Beyonce, Katy Perry, Taylor Swift, Nicki Minaj, Rihanna, Lady Gaga, Adele, and anyone else who have hits in the here and now. But they scoffed and chuckled when I played Aretha Franklin. Say what? Yeah, and “Say A Little Prayer,” no less.
My prayer, as always, is that they awaken from their slumbers. Because every student, every guy, every girl, every kid and adult that keeps sleeping while the world surrounds them with shiny objects, will end up claiming a certain strength, albeit in ignorance.

There’s a trend going around with AP testing, at least at our school. But I shouldn’t even write that–I see the trend everywhere online. And, no surprise, I’m not a big fan.
These last two weeks of school were filled with AP tests. We give a ton of them, it makes our school look pretty good (based on number taken/number of graduating seniors), and kids can pass those tests and get some early college credit. Why on Earth am I about to go on a rant here?
Here’s why. Students don’t care. They’ve taken the class for 150 days, paid money for a test, had extra time and effort from pretty much every teacher to prep them for the actual test, had shirts printed out that represent their subject, get fed by the teachers on the day of, and shared ideas back and forth online and in chat rooms. Yet with all this preparation, students act as if the test is some alien form that no one could possibly comprehend.
About half of the students think they passed the test. This is amusing (sort of) because many of the students who claim they did well, didn’t; while students who think they did poorly, didn’t. Kids pass. Kids fail. Happens every year.
But there’s a new trend happening this year. Thank goodness for the Internet so I can see all the cool kids out there taking the L. If you are old and don’t know what it is to “take an L,” it’s not a big stretch. It means you’ve taken a loss. That you’ve lost. That something has defeated you. That any shot you think you had is now gone because that L has reared its ugly head.
Some kids take the L before the test even starts. They say things like, “I’m taking that L,” and quickly throw away their whole year in an AP class. The worst part of all this is the trendiness of the quick quit. Wait, there’s a worse part–the kids take pictures of themselves, finger L on their foreheads, outside the testing facility immediately after taking the test (or L).
This is new behavior, because trying is hard.

I’m not a happy person. Oh, I laugh all the time at and with my students. My cat busts me up. The kid and wife even have their moments, too. I’ve watched some stand-up comedy lately on cable tv, and many of the comedians have busted me up. I am funny, know what’s funny, and can laugh at myself and others, with varying results.
But, COME ON, people. How is everyone so darned happy these days? Is it President Trump making America great again? Is it the stock market at all-time highs for rich people to make more money? Is it everyone moving to the South Bay to add to our lovely traffic? Is it those commercials with Matthew McConaughey driving Lincolns (alright, those ARE amazing)? Has the Disney vault let loose some new movies? Is Kendall Jenner being wooed by Coke now?
I don’t know what it is, but everywhere I turn, people are having the best time. Maybe they have a nice car with a kicking stereo system to blast Josh Groban or Taylor Swift on their ways to work. Maybe their job is “cushy,” while others at their job languish in labor. Once again–dunno.
But I do know something, for I am old. It’s a ruse. People are full of crap. Just because you might not be happy doesn’t mean you’re not in the right club.
The wife and I once stayed in a McMenamin’s property in Portland. They had two bars. One was the “Honors Bar,” while the other was the “Detention Bar.” I may have been an Honors kid, but I’m going to the Detention Bar. Because if I have to look at another winky-tink with that pitiful smile of oblivion on his or her face, it will be too soon.
The Force Awakens is not a great movie. Nor is Jurassic World. They are both in the Top 5 all-time for gross ticket sales. What on Earth are you smiling about, and why on Earth do you think these movies are good? Um, Netflix and chill? No. Netflix and have an opinion.
This is not Shakespeare. No longer are there “daggers in men’s smiles.” There’s just teeth. Plenty of them, too.

So our school has the RTI thing next year with two 30-minute modules/blocks per week. The question remains, at least in my mind, what should we do with them.
We had a meeting about this yesterday and the subject of enrichment came up. I mean, what DO you do with the kids who don’t need remediation? And, for some kids, they just come to me at snack and lunch and get any questions answered.
Thirty minutes, twice a week. I don’t know if I could have the same kids every time, but it wouldn’t really matter. We’d have rock and roll tutorial. Two songs, each session, complete with history, lyrics, and whatever else makes the song a big deal. We could argue, maybe write something at the end of it, have kids give suggestions–I know I’m just talking crazy right here and now.
My next-door teacher neighbor wanted to do fantasy sports. I don’t know how that would look if you couldn’t get the same kids every time, but maybe you get them every other time so you have a couple of leagues going. Gee, statistics, communication, something that people do in the big world outside of school. Decisions to be made, learning as you play–wouldn’t that be horrible?
I get it. Some kids need extra help. But why oh why oh why can’t we give the other kids who build our school’s brand an opportunity to do something FUN, but still learn something new at the same time? When 130 kids are in honors English in 9th, 10th, and 11th grade AP Language, and around 80 are in AP Language in 12th, that’s 470ish kids right there alone. Add in all the other students doing well in regular and online classes.
Where do they go? Don’t paint me as a cynic–I already know that I am. Don’t paint me as not being a team player–I’ve been at school and every meeting this year, creating many a lesson for my colleagues. But don’t paint me as an idiot either–okay, maybe a little.
Don’t kids need to know who Iggy Pop is?

Real, thoughtful information? Reginald Thelonius Innoway? Really, TI, (are you in trouble again?)? Response to Intervention? If you marked D, Response to Intervention, you are a teacher who will soon be adopting a new bell schedule for this module. Some may already be living in the lap of luxury that RTI provides. Oh, don’t worry, we haven’t forgotten about our PLC (Professional Learning Community), but we’re rolling out some RTI next year.
I don’t care. And when I write that, I don’t mean that I don’t care for the program–I just don’t care. We will, inevitably, always be doing something for kids, so this is it. It’s not like it’s my choice; it’s also not like I won’t adopt it like anything else we’ve ever done at school. I didn’t care much for homeroom many years ago. A teacher got a whole period off during the workday to design 20 (maybe?) homeroom lessons for kids, which teachers implemented throughout the year to their kids, a random selection of students. I did that, as did everyone else. Another teacher’s idea was for a mentor program, where we would take students at risk under our wings and help them out. While she used this for her Master’s degree, we helped out kids. As soon as those teachers got their degrees, or positions, homeroom and the mentor program went away, as if they had never happened.
Two years ago, I went to Common Core training classes once a month. The entire English and Social Studies departments of all schools did the same. Every single teacher got training, subs were provided, the leaders of the program didn’t have to teach as many classes at school because they were preparing our lessons, and we received a binder.
Teachers do Common Core lessons all the time with their students, whether they know it or not. I’m a big fan of returning to the text for close readings. Hello, Common Core! We mentor students all the time. Kids who eat lunch in my room, or used to eat in my wife’s room, were always asking for our sage wisdom to be passed along. I got nothing for homeroom. We do activities with kids? Either way, we’re always teaching something. Teachers are in there battling, no matter what name or tagline is assigned to the actual work.
So welcome, RTI, and your two 30-minute modules per week. I don’t know what that will look like yet, but I don’t fear you. If we’re helping out kids and getting more time to do that, then let’s get it on, RTI, and see what we can do.
One of my questions was brought up at our conference period meeting today. What happens for enrichment? Because if this is remediation-based (and, like I wrote, I don’t know what it looks like yet), then what does your straight A/E kid do during this time? My kid has tutorial at his middle school. Same thing–half an hour for a couple of days a week. His does his homework during that time.
My other question is harder. How do we intervene for kids who don’t care? We have students sitting in classes who have many F/U grades. What should we do there? Do we have a lifetime supply of olive branches for these students?
Speaking and listening. Last year, our school scored so woefully, as did MANY other local schools, on the standard of listening. Yeah, reading and writing are front and center for most people, but, believe it or not, there are life skills that also revolve around speaking and listening. We have students write essays, but what about speaking? Group projects are great, and all, but at one point in their lifetimes, our kids are going to have to communicate like humans.
If not, the terrorists win.

Yep, teachers get a whole week of appreciation. Pretzels, sweets, Lotto ticket (I won an extra ticket), the PTA with their awesome onslaught of daily food–whoo-hoo.
Lots of folks outside of teaching think this “week” is overkill, since every single day is one of teacher appreciation, what with our easy jobs, and all. We only work eight months a year, we’re out at 3:00 every day, we get amazing benefits, get paid too much for what we do as glorified babysitters, and, when we retire, we get somewhere around 90% of our salary.
We do work eight months a year and are out at 3:00 every day. Our benefits used to be good, and I do think some teachers get paid too much. But, after 23 years of teaching, at age 56 next year, if I retired I would get about a third of my current salary, with no more benefits. Oh, joy.
I don’t like some teachers. All the teachers in the world, I’m allowed to not like certain folk. Some teachers don’t like me. They’re allowed, even though they got me all wrong. There are things teachers do that just don’t fit with my definition of a teacher, and I’m sure they feel similarly for those they respect, and those they don’t. I have a hard time with teachers who come late, or can’t laugh at themselves, or are mean to kids–the list could go on.
However, I don’t work with too many of those people. I work with teachers who are in there battling just like me. Just because they may not be yelling and trying to get students to question everything and be better people doesn’t mean they’re not doing what they do to move students forward. I know some of my trolls at school and here think I’m not worthy of their greatness, but I’ve been doing this for 23 years, tons of kids sign up for my classes, so maybe I’m doing something right. Either way, if you’re trying and don’t have some selfish agenda, I’m okay with you.
The term “teacher appreciation week” IS a joke because we should be appreciated daily. Yep. Daily. Because we’re teaching daily, and on weekends, and sometimes in the summer. We’re thinking of teaching, we’re sharing ideas with anyone who will listen, we’re meeting on our own time and creating materials. We may get four months off, but school is never far from our thoughts.
Want to find a teacher? They’re at Target every year before school. They’ve waited for that weekend to come around, and now that pens are 89 cents and everything else is discounted, they buy the place out quickly, stocking up for the next school year.
Want to appreciate a teacher? Keep feeding us now and again–we love that stuff. How about a box of Kleenex? What other profession or company doesn’t provide a box of Kleenex? Teachers (not this one) offer extra credit for tissues. Counselors, the dean, administrators–teach one of our classes now and again. Want the pulse of the school? These are the front lines, and you can share your expertise. Kids get bored of us–they would love this.
I’m going to appreciate myself this weekend. Got some cleaning to do, which is a good thing because it’s cleaning out my room. There’s this thing called the Kentucky Derby–once a year, first Saturday of May. Yeah, there will be homework, and grades are due, and that will take time.
But, speaking of time, it’s running out on the year. 33 days left, baby. THAT is something every teacher can appreciate.

Teaching is a pain. It’s hard. You have to be on for 53 minutes, five times a day. You have to be ready for anything a class can throw at you because, if those little suckers sense weakness, you disappear from their view and the phones take over. Gameplans have to be daily, though many have year-long goals for kids. You can’t pee when you want to, or need to. You have to wolf down food during lunch or snack. Sometimes you don’t finish your food.
It’s a club that many people belong to. I’ve seen great teachers, and I’ve seen ones that couldn’t care less about anything but the final bell. And, in the midst of all those teachers out there, I have to claim myself the same. I’m in that huge club. Whatever good or bad things you’ve thought about teachers gets put on me, and anyone else, who teaches kids.
Have a great teacher when you were in high school? That’s me.
Have an insensitive ass that was awful from day one? That’s me.
Genius? Me. Fool? Me. Male model? Me (for fertilizer). Hard on the eyes? Me.
We’re all in it together, people. No matter how good or bad you are as a teacher, most folks outside of teaching just lump us in the same category.
I used to carpool with the wife and an older teacher who had seen it all. We would sometimes complain on the ride home. We would share ideas, gossip, talk about things other than school (weird, I know!); but, most of the time, we would laugh. I’ve written it before, but teaching is ridiculous. You just have to step back from it now and again and laugh. Hey, it’s not like there aren’t plenty of opportunities throughout the day to chuckle, chortle, guffaw, or break into hysterics. But when you ride in a car with three, sometimes four, English teachers who, after a long day, break out student work for some dramatic readings . . . I’m surprised we didn’t crash some days.
It’s teacher appreciation week, if you didn’t know. Last year, our teachers got a bag of chips from administration. This year, we got a lottery ticket (perhaps millions await us all). The “I Care” folks gave us a bag of pretzels and a little big of sweets. PTA was, and is, amazing every year, feeding us, giving us gift cards, and always showing us that they appreciate what we do by making everyone a little wider.
So now it’s my turn. Oh wait, we’re just teachers. As Iago says, “‘Tis in ourselves that we are thus or thus. Our bodies are our gardens, to the which our wills are gardeners.” It’s up to us, so I think I’ll just work alongside you and do what’s best for kids. I will root for you when you’re scratching that Lotto ticket, though. Good luck to us all.