Summer Brain Drain: Part Duh

Well, it's here.  We're going on our third day of Schoollessness, a condition not far-removed from Lawlessness, at least in my house.

Since school let out on Thursday, we have:

1) Taken a three-hour hike up and down Pyramid Mountain (the Matterhorn of New Jersey, IMHO) during which my kids said, "Mom, what are you complaining about? We've been walking for three hours and you don't see US whining, do you?" (Okay, the 8-year-old 'tween said this, but his five-year-old sis seconded the motion.)

2) Had four playdates.

3) Played with the 17-year-old nephew football player in the grandparent's pool until the 17-year-old nephew football player said, "I need to lie down."

4) Made a pulley system on the backyard jungle gym @ 7 AM two mornings in a row.

5) Eaten 3 gallons of ice cream and 15 s'mores (thanks, grandma).

I could go on.

I'm tired, and yesterday, I actually counted the days until September 9th. 

But the season is rubbing off on me, and I'm not talking just about the patch of poison ivy rash I have on my left knee.

Clicking on the link to Blogger today took monumental effort.  Going up to Montclair State yesterday on some professional business freaked me out.   I tried to envision myself dressed in my Professor Uniform (wool pants and tailored shirt), and I got itchy (and not just on my left knee).  I went to the library during my precious free time yesterday, found a book I'd wanted on assessment in secondary schools, thought better of it, and went to the periodicals room to read People.

If there's anyone whose inner clock ticks to the school year beat, it's mine.  I was a kid/young adult on that calendar for 23 years.  Then I taught.  When I left teaching to write and edit for Instructor magazine, we actually got busier in the summer, as teachers began submitting their ideas and articles to us when they were done with school.  I loved that job beyond all reason, but my system went into shock.  There was rarely any time to, well, reflect.  And as you know, I like to reflect.

Seriously, in what we used to call Industry (everything outside of education), there were no end-of-year parties or hugs of thanks or crayon-scrawled cards proclaiming us The Best Teacher Alive. There was no sitting in an empty classroom sighing with both relief and poignant remembrance. In Industry (especially these days), cleaning out one's desk is a euphemism for getting laid off, not an opportunity to alphabetize sight-word flashcards. 

Regardless of whether a teacher "works" in the summer or not (and most do), having a light at the end of a tunnel is both a gift and, probably, a necessity.  A necessity because in such an intense job, where human interaction is so vital, intense, and unavoidable, you need some time to step back and look away so you can step forward and see.

The Impossible Position of Schools

On my way home from dropping my kids at school today, this ditty kept cycling through my head:

           No more homework

           No more books

           No more teachers' dirty looks...

My children have not yet learned that poem, or this one:

 

          In days of old, 

          When knights were bold,

          And teachers weren't invented,

          You'd go to school and be a fool

          And come out at 3:30

          Contented.

And then there's Alice Cooper's lovely, School's Out for the Summer, whose lyrics you know and probably belted loudly on your last day of 10th grade--you know, the ones that today would inspire a lock-down and bomb-sniffing dogs (and perhaps for good reason).

Anyway, I started thinking about these little gems of childhood resentment after, in the space of 30 minutees, running into not one, but TWO, friends/fellow parents who commented on my blog and also have completely contrary opinions on whether the schools are working and what we should/should not do about it.

There are about 6500 students in the system. Let's say, for ease of calculation, every three kids represents one family.  That's, at minimum, about 2000 families that could (and probably do) have an opinion on everything from serving cupcakes in the classroom to whether some teacher should be fired to whether we offer enough AP courses in 12th grade.

I am one of those people who has such a critical mind I can't go into a shoe store without thinking I would have put the sandals on the bottom shelf and filled the bowl on the checkout counter with Hershey's kisses instead of toffees.  But, like most humans, I just don't enjoy being criticized.  Aaaaargh, ye mateys!  Imagine being one of our teachers or principals!  

And I thought how hard it is to be an educator--principal, teacher, lunchroom assistant--for the very fact that you are trying to teach stuff to large crowds of individuals who, as adorable as we find them, can be, um, you know--ungrateful little out-of-control wretches.*

On the other hand, we want so much for them.  SOOOOOOOO much.  So very very much. Too much for the schools to provide?  I mean, seriously, what DO we want that's reasonable to ask for?

(*And if for some odd reason you have forgotten this, you will be remembering very soon.)

The Principle Behind Good Principals

UPDATE:

As my often-more-alert husband pointed out:  Montclair High is also on the NCLB naughty list --didn't demonstrate AYP, is classified as "in need of improvement."

So, does it matter?  I teach about assessment @ MSU. In my classes, we talk mainly about the kinds of assessments teachers do on a daily basis to check understanding.  But we do touch on summative, standardized assessment like NCLB.  And I think there's some dispute about whether tests can measure a school's beauty.  

Maybe the fact that both Montclair AND Trenton Central have similar "report cards" bodes well for Dr. Earle.  Maybe that means he knows exactly what he's getting into.

New principal for Montclair High announced yesterday.  His name is James Earle and he currently heads Trenton Central High.  

Over on the 'Cooler, there's lots of chatter about Central High's  dismal showing on state education report cards.   It didn't demonstrate something called AYP--adequate yearly progress--and is classified as "in need of improvement."  Uh-oh.

Someone suggested the board should host a Town Hall meeting to introduce Dr. Earle to the community; that way,  people can address misgivings and hopes for the high school's future up front.  

I think this last is a fabulous idea.  School systems are like mini-Vaticans in the 15th century--fraught with intrigue, distracted by competing agendas, and hampered by inscrutable hierarchies. (And by school systems, I mean not just the schools, the BOE,  etc., but also the parents, students, and general public that comprise its constituency.)  In such an environment, rumors can easily fester and ambush even the most earnest soul.  And there's something about meeting someone in person--I can't explain it, but you know what I mean.  It's relieving, somehow.

Anyway, what are the qualities of a good principal?  Here's my list:

*  approachable

*  warm

*  intelligent and intellectual

*  doesn't believe parents need parenting advice, but is always open to getting advice (even if         it's dumb)

*  totally proud of the kids s/he cares for

*  taught the grade level(s) s/he principals

*  likes (and is familiar with) research about what works

*  knows every kid's name

Agree? Disagree?  Have something to add? 

The Frustration of MeMe Roth

MeMe Roth is well-known around here.  She's been featured on our own Baristanet for her skirmishes with Millburn school district's junk food policies, or lack thereof.

Then, she moved to Manhattan, and today was featured in the New York section for apparently alienating P.S. 9, the school her kids now attend, on this very issue. 

The tone of the article was a little patronizing.  It's true, the woman is passionate and, according to detractors, a bit "abrasive" in her crusade to ban sugary, non-nutritious treats from schools.  And, um, she apparently cursed and threw things in a meeting with a "school safety official." 

But in a way,  I admire her.  She really believes in something and stands up for it--no, not school prayer or that Wiccan should be offered as a social studies course.  What she believes in is this: Parents should be able to determine a healthful diet for their kids, and the schools should not undermine this, especially when science and unending data support certain realities.  As MeMe puts it so succinctly:

 

Is there, or is there not, an obesity and diabetes epidemic in this country?

Read the article, and you might start to understand her frustration. I mean, the school told MeMe and her husband that, if they found the school's cupcake dissemination a threat to their kids' safety,  they would need to file a "health and safety transfer, something that generally follows threats of VIOLENCE" and lodge a complaint with the police!    

I remember being bewildered when, in preschool, my kids would be served gigantic cupcakes at 10 AM, sometimes two days in a row.  And I often would find out about it by accident--after I'd let them have their afternoon treat at home.  Anyone who knows me, or has seen my pantry, knows I am NOT a Sugar Prohibitionist.  However, since treats are an optional part of any kid's diet, I just want to plan accordingly.  

But that's not what this entry is about, because, frankly, I don't think it's an issue in our schools. (Tell me if I'm wrong.)  

What bothers me is that this woman shouldn't need to "catch a few flies with honey."  Read the article, and you'll see she's tried to mesh her own family's food practices with the school's policies.  But everyone laughs her off as a loony.  PTA folks write messages encouraging her to move away.  Other parents call her "abrasive."  But the science is still there. She does have a point.  And it's a point, from what I can discern, that the school has not addressed.

What also concerns me is the role of the teacher mentioned in this article.   Though not directly quoted or interviewed, s/he comes across as unhelpful toward the child.  Regardless of what you think about MeMe, her child is not to blame.  And the hostility expressed between the lines here just might have to do with MeMe's anger, no?

Summer Reading and How It Happens

UPDATE:  We got the summer reading list from our son's school, and it's comprehensive.  I'm coming up with my own system for using the list...

Just a heads-up:  The Montclair Public Library begins its summer reading program with a rollicking kick-off event on June 26.  You can attend at 11 or 1, no pre-registration necessary.  The next day, they begin enrollment for the summer reading program itself.

I confess, we've never participated in the program, which is kind of ironic, given that I worked in MPL's children's department briefly in 2000.  (My son arrived unexpectedly early and as deliriously happy as I was at his arrival, I was very sad to give up that position.)  The kick-off was always a rousing success and fun to administer, too. 

But this year, we WILL participate.  My kids are starting to get interested in reading.  Or should I say, I am starting to get interested in them starting to get interested in reading.  And an organized program, with some incentives and attached festivities, seems the way to go for us.

My son's school doesn't have a formal summer reading list or incentive program.  But I wish they did. 

I find it much easier to legislate this sort of thing, e.g. "The teachers say you have to do this" vs. "You have to do this because, well, you do."  

Don't get me wrong: Our house is crammed with books. I am a constant reader and might be doing grad work in, well, reading (and "new literacies") next year! I have written books! But...my kids prefer pretend, outdoor play, art, and building stuff.  And computer games, which I limit, but also have nothing against because my kids seem to learn from them.

So the amount of leisure reading they do is a concern sometimes.  If they don't end up being "readers" as adults, fine.  But now seems a critical time for them to develop fluency and maybe discover that passion. (After all, my son once wrinkled his nose at pizza.  Now, it's his main form of sustenance.  Which I always remind him.)

Some researchers and parents warn against incentives for reading.  

Dr. Marinak, of Penn State, and Linda B. Gambrell, a professor of education at Clemson University, published a study last year in the journal Literacy Research and Instruction showing that rewarding third graders with so-called tokens, like toys and candy, diminished the time they spent reading.

“A number of the kids who received tokens didn’t even return to reading at all,” Dr. Marinak said.

Why does motivation seem to fall away? Some researchers theorize that even at an early age, children can sense that someone is trying to control their behavior. Their reaction is to resist. “One of the central questions is to consider how children think about this,” said Mark R. Lepper, a psychologist at Stanford whose 1973 study of 50 preschool-age children came to a conclusion similar to Dr. Deci’s. “Are they saying, ‘Oh, I see, they are just bribing me’?”  (The full, fascinating NYT article here.)

Does your school have a summer reading program?  Tell me about it.

Parent-led Projects

I'm getting some nice private emails from friends and others since Baristanet/Baristakids ran a little blurb about the blog.  

But still so few comments or suggestions!  (Though I did have great input from an old friend on homeschooling in Montclair.  More on that topic soon, including insight from her personal experience.)

This blog will be boring with just me blahblahblahing.  (Say THAT three times fast!)  While I may "PR" this blog more aggressively this summer, I kinda like its personal feel.  Except when I don't hear from you!

Anyway...

I was cleaning out closets this morning and came across a bunch of lovely unused stationery--holiday cards, blank notecards, floral prints, etc.  I love writing letters, but I like emailing even better.   So what to do with the box of Metropolitan Museum of Art thank-you cards?  

I could always recycle them, but then I thought: Maybe some artist would do something useful with these...Better yet, maybe my son's school could! I started to hatch all sorts of fun projects the school could do using these supplies.   Which leads me to my next nudge:

If you have an idea for your school, how do you implement it?   Whom do you approach with that idea?  The PTA?  The principal?  A teacher?  Or do you have lots of ideas, but aren't sure how to make them happen?  Is there a suggestion box in your school?  Have you had an idea that came to fruition--say, reducing trash in kids' lunches?   Was it fun, or a frustrating experience?  

 

Ring In On These Upcoming Topics

Two weeks from tomorrow is the last day of school around here.   Ah, freedom!  (Not.)

My time will be more constrained in July and August, but the Bell will still toll all summer, sometimes here, sometimes in my head.  In September, I will probably start grad school and in October, I'll be teaching another college class.

So, now's my chance to plan.  

Here are topics I hope to cover--with YOUR help:

* Bullying at school.  Perri Klass writes about it in today's Science Times.  I need anecdotes about bullying OR about lack of bullying in OUR schools.  If your kid had a similar issue, how was it handled?  If you haven't encountered a lot of it, why do you think?  I hope to investigate whatever bullying programs are formally in place in Montclair.

* Homeschooling.  Who are our local homeschoolers?  Why do they do it?  HOW do they do it? If you know a homeschooling parent, please encourage them to email me.

* Private schoolers.  Our taxes are famously high.  So why do some people move here, then pay an extra $20k to send a child to MKA or the Co-op or Kent Place?

* The Montclair magnet system.  How and why it evolved, and how parents and kids feel about it today.  (There have been debates over on the Montclair Watercooler about its effectiveness and whether it's even necessary any longer.)

Email me. 

Our Own Price-less Treasures

I am definitely an idealist when it comes to education. And in this blog, I want to look hard at what happens in our public schools. But at this time of year, when we're toasting the teachers and putting it all in perspective, I get mushy about the talent that makes learning possible.

In the previous post, I mention Mr. Silvera, my son's inspiring gym teacher. But I could cite many others, including Mr. Santoloci, Mrs. Hart, and the school nurse who went out of her way to make sure my son had the right drops in his eyes during allergy season.

Steve Adubato, a Montclair resident, says it so eloquently in his blog. His son's teacher, Mrs. Susan Price, is such a gem, in that wise and knowing way a seasoned teacher can be. The scene he describes isn't about some obsequious educator giving in when confronted with crying child and perplexed parent. It's about a teacher helping a student stretch himself, making the best, most challenging choice even when the easier one would be a lot more fun.

Read it, then write a nice letter to a great teacher...(It's good for you.)

Thank you, Mr. Silvera!

Mr. Silvera is a gym teacher at my son's school. I'd always thought he was nice enough until the day my son came home, chagrined. According to the boy, only the kids who had finished a certain number of laps during gym class were allowed to get water. This made me angry. It was a hot day, and I could not imagine why a teacher would do this.

I wrote a long letter to Mr. Silvera telling him exactly what I thought--diplomatically, but forcefully. Then, a few weeks later, Mr. S. and I talked about it. The story involved some misunderstandings and miscommunications, as such stories often do. It wasn't a comfortable situation for me, because I HATE confronting teachers. I know what it's like to be on the other side of that desk (not that elementary teachers ever actually SIT at a desk. Not that they ever SIT much at all). And I know all too well how it can backfire, making one's child the possible object of a teacher's resentment.

But I am a Mama Bear (derisively called a Helicopter Mom by some crowds). I will advocate for my kids until the day I die. Or until they tell me not to do it any longer. (And, frankly, when that day comes, I will celebrate.)

But after we talked (and maybe before, I just didn't notice), Mr. Silvera decided to take my son under his wing, to encourage him and challenge him, and my son rose to that challenge.

So last week, the boy told me he needed to run in the Montclair YMCA 2 mile Run/Walk. I was stunned.

"Mr. Silvera will be there," my son told me matter-of-factly, "and he says I can do it."

Now, please understand: My son is small for his age. He is shy. He is cautious and sometimes even tremulous. (Never these things at home, I might add.) He doesn't like big crowds and he hates when people clap for him.

But that was then.

Now the little boy I keep trying to protect is pushing himself. Hard.

Because Mr. Silvera says he can.

And on Sunday morning, Mr. Silvera was at that race, cheering. When my son saw him in the final moments of the race, he veered off the course and went right for him, huge grin on his sweaty mug. Then he got back on that road and made it to the finish line.

Oh, the power of a teacher who believes in us when our own mama thinks we're still a baby!

Summer Brain Drain

According to research compiled by connectwithkids.com, students score lower on standardized tests at the beginning of the school year than they do on the same tests just before summer break.

Math skills are particularly affected: students lose about 2.6 months of "grade-level equivalency" in that subject over the summer! This is particularly true in the areas of factual and procedural knowledge (e.g. how to carry out mathematical operations like multiplication and addition).

There is actually a group, the National Association for Year-Round Education (NAYRE) that promotes a longer school year. And here's a fascinating article, originally published in Edutopia magazine, that critiques the way time is used in our present education system, whether it's the tightly-calibrated daily schedule in high schools or the 180-day year itself.

I'm for year-round schooling. That doesn't mean NO breaks. In fact, you could have, say, two weeks between semesters or something. That still comes out to a lot of vacation, but it means LESS interruption. I don't know about your kids, but mine seem to just get settled in to the school routine, oh, around March. There are other arguments to be made for it, of course (e.g. working parents not in academia), but that's a big one.

Until year-round school is implemented, however, there's camp. I am sending my oldest to MKA STAR camp, Bill Wing tennis camp, science camp during our visit to the grandparents, and probably two weeks of ENOPI to regrease his brain before third grade. My daughter: Early Adventures at the Little Y, Korean heritage camp (she's adopted from Republic of Korea), and Camp Tonsils-Out for two weeks while she recovers from surgery. She'll also do at least a week of ENOPI. (God forbid she should go to kindergarten still making those adorable backward a's!)

There goes the tax refund!

School as Theater

If Movie Theaters Were Like Schools...

Everyone would have to sit in alphabetical order...

You'd have to enter and exit the theater in two straight lines...

If you laughed at the car crash, you'd have to leave and talk to the guidance counselor...

The movies you watched would be chosen for you...

The list continues, some items supplied by students.

I'm thinking: If schools were like movie theaters, kids would 1) pick what they were going to watch (learn) and, 2) be so transfixed by the subject matter, teachers wouldn't have to shush them so much or cajole them to pay attention. In fact, the disruptive students during such a performance would get the message from their peers pretty quickly. Quiet! We're trying to learn!