This summer, my husband and I moved from Elk Grove, CA to Northport, Maine. I started looking for a place to teach in Maine in the Spring. It took a while, but stopping in a district office on a whim, I found a teaching position at Camden Hills Regional High School. It's a small school that serves five towns in the mid-coast Maine area.
We just couldn't stay in California anymore.
I grew up in Elk Grove. I came back when my daughter started 7th grade. I came back to give her a positive secondary school experience and to teach in a district that had a reputation of honoring teachers and seeking out the best practices in teaching. I wanted to move forward in my career and in my practice. I never was one of those teachers who thought that being an administrator was the way up the career ladder. My thought has always been, I want to be the best teacher I can be.
Thirteen years later, the daughter is about to graduate from college and I have become a discouraged educator. My state government has abandoned education as a priority. I listen again and again to politicians who will not compromise and work together. I sit at board meetings and listen to School Board members who really have no idea what to do and how to proceed in this climate. They are being led by district administration who also has no idea what to do, but has chosen to lash out at teachers to make themselves look better. There is little compromise and little real work toward lasting, positive outcomes.
And yet, pockets of marvelous teaching continues in EGUSD schools. People of this community have no idea how long and how deep this recession has cut education because the teachers have not really let on that there was a problem until very recently. I will miss working with so many of you!
However, it was time for a change. We left Elk Grove to work in a positive place where state government honors education.
So, good-bye Elk Grove Patch! If you are interested in what I am doing now, you can follow me on
goldenkidsgoeast.blogspot.com
Thank you for the positive discourse. Keep up the conversations.
Yours Truly,
Lisa
Sunday, September 2, 2012
Monday, June 11, 2012
Prison garden
When I worked in the prison, our greatest achievement was the two or three seasons when we kept the garden. I was in my element! I collaborated with the teacher who taught everything. We started with English assignments where the guys wrote about foods they loved from childhood. After reading these essays, we made a list of vegetables we could plant. The students researched the vegetables to determine when and if we could plant them. This was part of their science work.
They calculated every aspect of gardening we could think of. They measured pH of the soil. They used organic elements to improve it. They measured the plot, planned out what would go where. They researched compatible plants and beneficial insects. We could not use any chemicals, so the whole endeaver had to be organic
They calculated every aspect of gardening we could think of. They measured pH of the soil. They used organic elements to improve it. They measured the plot, planned out what would go where. They researched compatible plants and beneficial insects. We could not use any chemicals, so the whole endeaver had to be organic
And they started to dig. The Correctional Officers had to approve the garden, specificly; giving wards shovels. Shovels were scary at first. I remember seeing several guys out in the dirt who had been convicted of murder and assault, digging.
Every day, during the prep, the guys working on our project came in after a day of work filthy, smiling and proud. The Correctional Officers were very surprised how well it all went. When it came time to sow the seeds, I taught how to manually plant seeds one at a time. Where rain was once an issue, now it was celebrated because of how it helped the garden. Many confessions were made on our knees, our hands dirty, our minds clear in the California sun. I listened and I learned.
I taught them how to use drip irrigation, to save water and meet the needs of our diverse space. It was one of the best things I ever did. I am not naive enough to think our garden saved these boys. I don't really know. But in the space of that spring and summer, we were all different. There were less fights, more sharing. We worked together and ate very well.
In that season, I saw how gardens heal people.
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Isn't learning supposed to be fun?
Learning is a life long event. When or how it happens is something you have little control over. We are taught, in classes designed around the science of learning, that if a person enjoys an event they are more likely to remember it. Sounds counter intuitive, doesn't it?
Monday, April 30, 2012
Childhood roller coaster of choice
I contribute to a local on-line newspaper in Elk Grove. On it, I posted my blog piece about the Disneyland trip. I figured I'd get no responses. But, I was wrong. There is one person, a fellow blogger on the site, who wanted to discuss an important issue, but did not want to do it in a rational manner. He was angry about middle schoolers going to Disneyland, and he let me know.
Here is my response:
The funniest thing happens when you run a classroom, (I don't mean funny ha, ha; but funny "mmmm...") if you are at all paying attention you discover that everyone learns so differently. If you pay attention for several years, you see that what is fun or funny changes with the times.
Media and technology have exploded in my lifetime. Heck, they've exploded in a ten year olds life time! We have access to every thing all the time. Whether or not that has done us any good, is debatable. Whether or not it has done children any good, is debated often at schools across Elk Grove.
Recently, a reader commented about the trip I took with my 8th graders that had not changed in 40 years. Though I think his concern about this trip was misplaced, he has a point about childhood speeding up. I think any parent can tell you that things happen so fast, that children have too many choices, that it all seems so out of control.
Yet, the stop to the childhood revolving door is parents. Parents can say "no". If choices are offered or ideas floated that your family doesn't like, parents can say, "no". Don't tell me schools or society or the media or whatever shouldn't even allow some things to be choices for students of certain ages; you are the parent, say "no". I see parents do it all the time. No excuses, just "Our family doesn't do that/ wear that/ live like that." And the student is better for it.
Teaching middle schoolers, I see them transition from little kids at 11 or 12 years old, to the doorstep of their future at 13 or 14 years old. The standards in California allow for them to become more sophisticated in their thinking. When we start in Pre-Algebra, there is much the 7th grader is not able to grasp, simply because of brain development. As students move through 8th grade, they become aware of nuance or slight changes. They pick up ideas and concepts that were difficult when they were younger and they begin to make startling discoveries about the world. They begin to see that their parents are infallible and they dislike hypocrisy because they recognize it.
This is when students who have parents who have limited their choices push back. They really want to do what everyone else is doing. They tell you, "its alright for you. It must be alright for me." It is a hard time. Probably the most difficult one you experience as a parent. Stay strong. If you stay the course, you'll find reward later in life.
Sound simplistic? I know I do. But really, sticking to your ideals as a parent is the hardest thing we do. I was not infallible. I don't think you are either. We make mistakes, we learn as much or more than our children do. I think its important to keep an open mind and listen. Sometimes, they can talk you into changing your mind, all for the better.
Here is my response:
The funniest thing happens when you run a classroom, (I don't mean funny ha, ha; but funny "mmmm...") if you are at all paying attention you discover that everyone learns so differently. If you pay attention for several years, you see that what is fun or funny changes with the times.
Media and technology have exploded in my lifetime. Heck, they've exploded in a ten year olds life time! We have access to every thing all the time. Whether or not that has done us any good, is debatable. Whether or not it has done children any good, is debated often at schools across Elk Grove.
Recently, a reader commented about the trip I took with my 8th graders that had not changed in 40 years. Though I think his concern about this trip was misplaced, he has a point about childhood speeding up. I think any parent can tell you that things happen so fast, that children have too many choices, that it all seems so out of control.
Yet, the stop to the childhood revolving door is parents. Parents can say "no". If choices are offered or ideas floated that your family doesn't like, parents can say, "no". Don't tell me schools or society or the media or whatever shouldn't even allow some things to be choices for students of certain ages; you are the parent, say "no". I see parents do it all the time. No excuses, just "Our family doesn't do that/ wear that/ live like that." And the student is better for it.
Teaching middle schoolers, I see them transition from little kids at 11 or 12 years old, to the doorstep of their future at 13 or 14 years old. The standards in California allow for them to become more sophisticated in their thinking. When we start in Pre-Algebra, there is much the 7th grader is not able to grasp, simply because of brain development. As students move through 8th grade, they become aware of nuance or slight changes. They pick up ideas and concepts that were difficult when they were younger and they begin to make startling discoveries about the world. They begin to see that their parents are infallible and they dislike hypocrisy because they recognize it.
This is when students who have parents who have limited their choices push back. They really want to do what everyone else is doing. They tell you, "its alright for you. It must be alright for me." It is a hard time. Probably the most difficult one you experience as a parent. Stay strong. If you stay the course, you'll find reward later in life.
Sound simplistic? I know I do. But really, sticking to your ideals as a parent is the hardest thing we do. I was not infallible. I don't think you are either. We make mistakes, we learn as much or more than our children do. I think its important to keep an open mind and listen. Sometimes, they can talk you into changing your mind, all for the better.
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
Disneyland with 8th graders
We just came back from Disneyland Sunday morning at 5:30 a.m. I chaperoned on the 8th grade field trip. It is the one where we leave school at 10:30 p.m. on Friday and return around 6 a.m. on Sunday. Yes, we sleep on the bus. (I should say, they sleep on the bus. I didn't sleep much) Thank goodness its Spring Break! I'm tired.
We stopped at a Home Town Buffet in Buena Vista, a stone's throw from Disneyland and ate. The 70 or so kids we took filled several plates of meat, eggs, cinnamon rolls, etc. It was as if they had never eaten in their lives. Everyone used the bathroom to change, some kids even brushed their teeth! The girls did what 13 year old girls do best, they primped...combed their hair and put make up on and dressed in provocative clothing. I reminded several girls that was probably cold outside, but they ignored me. We got on the bus again and arrived at Disneyland at 8:30 a.m.
Our Activities Director had us so organized, no room for doubt existed. We were the purple team. I handed out tickets, exchanged cell numbers with the worried and reminded them all to see me in front of Cinderella's castle at 3 p.m. And we were off!
This time I had several kids who chose to hang out with me and and another chaperon. These kids had never been, so I figured after they got their bearings, they'd be off on their own. It didn't happen. Our group just grew throughout the day. A couple of kids didn't bring enough money for food. Others spent it all on souvenirs early in the day. But the other chaperon I was with must have bought lunch or dinner for several of those kids. What could we do? It was a long day.
I found myself pointing out the free water spigots and getting everyone to refill water bottles. We ate everything bad for us we could find. We laughed a lot. And then it started raining and we had to go back to our bus, our mother ship.
As I checked in my team, I asked them all what they enjoyed the most about their day. The responses were fun; princesses (from the 14 year old boys), feeling free to do what they wanted (no parents to tell them "no"), and sitting out of the rain. We arrived in the school parking lot a little wiser. The kids were tired, but more confident about themselves. I was heartened about the future of our community. I am glad to know this group of kids. They see the world differently. I like them for it.
We stopped at a Home Town Buffet in Buena Vista, a stone's throw from Disneyland and ate. The 70 or so kids we took filled several plates of meat, eggs, cinnamon rolls, etc. It was as if they had never eaten in their lives. Everyone used the bathroom to change, some kids even brushed their teeth! The girls did what 13 year old girls do best, they primped...combed their hair and put make up on and dressed in provocative clothing. I reminded several girls that was probably cold outside, but they ignored me. We got on the bus again and arrived at Disneyland at 8:30 a.m.
Our Activities Director had us so organized, no room for doubt existed. We were the purple team. I handed out tickets, exchanged cell numbers with the worried and reminded them all to see me in front of Cinderella's castle at 3 p.m. And we were off!
This time I had several kids who chose to hang out with me and and another chaperon. These kids had never been, so I figured after they got their bearings, they'd be off on their own. It didn't happen. Our group just grew throughout the day. A couple of kids didn't bring enough money for food. Others spent it all on souvenirs early in the day. But the other chaperon I was with must have bought lunch or dinner for several of those kids. What could we do? It was a long day.
I found myself pointing out the free water spigots and getting everyone to refill water bottles. We ate everything bad for us we could find. We laughed a lot. And then it started raining and we had to go back to our bus, our mother ship.
As I checked in my team, I asked them all what they enjoyed the most about their day. The responses were fun; princesses (from the 14 year old boys), feeling free to do what they wanted (no parents to tell them "no"), and sitting out of the rain. We arrived in the school parking lot a little wiser. The kids were tired, but more confident about themselves. I was heartened about the future of our community. I am glad to know this group of kids. They see the world differently. I like them for it.
Monday, March 12, 2012
Mid March
We are 9 weeks away from the end of the school year and I have never seen so many stressed out kids! As our expectations grow for them, they feel the pressure and react. My Algebra Readiness classes are doing Algebra at the most basic level. It's simple stuff, but they know these lessons are the prelude of the song they'll be singing in math next year. They await Algebra, dreading it because so many have before them, and knowing that it is a requirement for a High School diploma. Questions about their competence, their worth are in their faces; "will I make it? will I pass? will I graduate from High School?" So many worries!
I am pressured also. State testing hits my school in April and every day I am encouraged to prepare my students. I used to give a power point presentation about the importance of test scores and how they are the one measure that will shape your high school career. I don't do that anymore. Raising my own kids I realized that what you scored on the state tests makes no difference what so ever. Grades matter. Work ethic matters. Perseverance matters. Resilience matters.
My daughter and I were sitting at the table at home talking about her high school friends. She told me about a guy she had grown up with who had started drinking when he was younger, a freshman in high school. I asked her what he was doing now and she said he was still in college, and still drinking. She sounded like she didn't hold much hope for his future. I asked her what was wrong with him. She said she didn't know, couldn't quite figure it out, but four years after leaving high school, he was pretty much still the same. She asked me, "What makes a kid evolve away from that negative stuff we all thought was so cool in high school?"
I don't think its a student's scores on the state test.
Simplistic, huh. State tests have their use. I don't think students should have to take them every year and I don't think so much emphasis should be placed on them. They are a moment in time, a one shot deal, a day in the life. Every student approaches them differently. I've seen students seriously approach the tests and those who have made cute patterns when bubbling answers.
So this March, when your kids come home from school overwhelmed with test prep activities, take it easy on them. Make sure they know you'll love them just as much regardless of how they score. Tell them to take their time, do their best and not to worry about it. And remember, its those other lessons learned, whose only tests are quality of life, that matter most.
I am pressured also. State testing hits my school in April and every day I am encouraged to prepare my students. I used to give a power point presentation about the importance of test scores and how they are the one measure that will shape your high school career. I don't do that anymore. Raising my own kids I realized that what you scored on the state tests makes no difference what so ever. Grades matter. Work ethic matters. Perseverance matters. Resilience matters.
My daughter and I were sitting at the table at home talking about her high school friends. She told me about a guy she had grown up with who had started drinking when he was younger, a freshman in high school. I asked her what he was doing now and she said he was still in college, and still drinking. She sounded like she didn't hold much hope for his future. I asked her what was wrong with him. She said she didn't know, couldn't quite figure it out, but four years after leaving high school, he was pretty much still the same. She asked me, "What makes a kid evolve away from that negative stuff we all thought was so cool in high school?"
I don't think its a student's scores on the state test.
Simplistic, huh. State tests have their use. I don't think students should have to take them every year and I don't think so much emphasis should be placed on them. They are a moment in time, a one shot deal, a day in the life. Every student approaches them differently. I've seen students seriously approach the tests and those who have made cute patterns when bubbling answers.
So this March, when your kids come home from school overwhelmed with test prep activities, take it easy on them. Make sure they know you'll love them just as much regardless of how they score. Tell them to take their time, do their best and not to worry about it. And remember, its those other lessons learned, whose only tests are quality of life, that matter most.
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Home teaching-the unknown in our educational world
I work as a home teacher sometimes when I need a little extra money. It's a difficult second job, because of the circumstances surrounding students. You get a name, a condition, and sometimes an Individual Education Plan. I chose to do this now to save some money to help my daughter finish college. I promised to pay 4 semesters of University. She took care of community college. I will help her with the University tuition. The fees have gone up so much, the money I had saved for this purpose was not enough. And with the pay cuts of the last two years, I had to do something.
So, again, I home teach. I usually teach girls. Its easier for me to go into the home of a young woman.
Over the years, I have had a variety of students. One year, I had an 8th grade girl with sickle cell. Because her body was changing, she was subject to attacks where her blood vessels would squeeze together and she would be in constant pain. We enjoyed each other's company. She was staying at her grandmother's house. Her uncle would carry her to the kitchen table and she would be waiting in her pjs and a robe for me. (She was in too much pain to walk.) I almost cried whenever I saw her, dark circles, hands folded on the table, measured breathing to process the pain. I would ask if she wanted me to come back another day. And she would say no, touch my arm, beg me with her eyes to stay. I taught her for a quarter. She got better and I was privileged to see the change. She played in the Spring Concert, went on the Water World 8th grade picnic and promoted to high school.
Long before that year, at another school, I visited UC Davis med center to teach a girl who had had a baby at the age of 13. Mom's boyfriend had raped her. She had not told anyone until the last stages of the pregnancy. The baby was born healthy, happily; but my student had become paralyzed from the waist down during delivery. It was a terrible, scary event. Traumatized and afraid of being a mom, she was not able to focus on school related tasks! But we tried. I was there the day my student told her mom she was going to give the baby up for adoption. (Her mother wanted the family to raise the child) One day I went back to the hospital and she was gone. Her family had taken her and disappeared. The baby was adopted. As far as I know, she never returned to an Elk Grove School.
This year, I have a girl who is at the Children's Receiving Home of Sacramento. The County is trying to reunify her with her mother. Her mother lives down the street from my school. If this reunification is successful, she will attend a school in our district. I drive about 20 minutes each way to see her. We have had about 15 sessions and they are all very different. The girl is bipolar. One day she is depressed, one day she is happy. I never know what I am getting. But we have blown through the 8th grade English curriculum, that girl is smart. We work in the dorm where several other girls live about the same age as my student. My girl is tall, terribly skinny, and perpetually sad. She and the others who live in her dorm are society's throw away kids. Abandoned by family, all they have is us; teachers, social workers, and others who work in Social Services.
So, again, I home teach. I usually teach girls. Its easier for me to go into the home of a young woman.
Over the years, I have had a variety of students. One year, I had an 8th grade girl with sickle cell. Because her body was changing, she was subject to attacks where her blood vessels would squeeze together and she would be in constant pain. We enjoyed each other's company. She was staying at her grandmother's house. Her uncle would carry her to the kitchen table and she would be waiting in her pjs and a robe for me. (She was in too much pain to walk.) I almost cried whenever I saw her, dark circles, hands folded on the table, measured breathing to process the pain. I would ask if she wanted me to come back another day. And she would say no, touch my arm, beg me with her eyes to stay. I taught her for a quarter. She got better and I was privileged to see the change. She played in the Spring Concert, went on the Water World 8th grade picnic and promoted to high school.
Long before that year, at another school, I visited UC Davis med center to teach a girl who had had a baby at the age of 13. Mom's boyfriend had raped her. She had not told anyone until the last stages of the pregnancy. The baby was born healthy, happily; but my student had become paralyzed from the waist down during delivery. It was a terrible, scary event. Traumatized and afraid of being a mom, she was not able to focus on school related tasks! But we tried. I was there the day my student told her mom she was going to give the baby up for adoption. (Her mother wanted the family to raise the child) One day I went back to the hospital and she was gone. Her family had taken her and disappeared. The baby was adopted. As far as I know, she never returned to an Elk Grove School.
This year, I have a girl who is at the Children's Receiving Home of Sacramento. The County is trying to reunify her with her mother. Her mother lives down the street from my school. If this reunification is successful, she will attend a school in our district. I drive about 20 minutes each way to see her. We have had about 15 sessions and they are all very different. The girl is bipolar. One day she is depressed, one day she is happy. I never know what I am getting. But we have blown through the 8th grade English curriculum, that girl is smart. We work in the dorm where several other girls live about the same age as my student. My girl is tall, terribly skinny, and perpetually sad. She and the others who live in her dorm are society's throw away kids. Abandoned by family, all they have is us; teachers, social workers, and others who work in Social Services.
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Thank you
Thank you for all the horns honked, thumbs up signs, hands waved, smiles and support you poured out for us during our "informational picket" tonight. We felt loved by you, our community. It is something lacking in today world of teacher bashing. Elk Grove knows that EGUSD is the jell that unites our community, has been for over 50 years, and it's teachers are what makes EGUSD work.
About 2000 teachers and other employees of the district walked, dressed in black to the EGuSD board room. The idea was a funeral march to mourn the death of interest based bargaining. As Maggie Ellis, EGEA president stated, "this isn't just about health care." We want a district administration we can work with to solve problems, not one who says one thing and does something else. We want a district that honors agreements made and doesn't try to hide a surplus of funds.
And we discovered last night, that some of you want the same. Maybe you want your kids to attend school for a full year, with no furlough days. You want your kids to be in classes of a reasonable size, instead of your school district hoarding money. You want your local school to be well staffed, with teachers and support staff like custodians, para-educators, etc. You want what we want, the best for the children of our community.
About 2000 teachers and other employees of the district walked, dressed in black to the EGuSD board room. The idea was a funeral march to mourn the death of interest based bargaining. As Maggie Ellis, EGEA president stated, "this isn't just about health care." We want a district administration we can work with to solve problems, not one who says one thing and does something else. We want a district that honors agreements made and doesn't try to hide a surplus of funds.
And we discovered last night, that some of you want the same. Maybe you want your kids to attend school for a full year, with no furlough days. You want your kids to be in classes of a reasonable size, instead of your school district hoarding money. You want your local school to be well staffed, with teachers and support staff like custodians, para-educators, etc. You want what we want, the best for the children of our community.
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
numb
We have been numbed by continuous attacks on our pay and benefits. Sometimes, we just want it to stop. So, we swear we'll take anything they give us, just to stay sane.
Later, after its all over and cooler minds prevail, we look at what we settled for and are shocked. Yes, shocked to see we caved, when all we needed to do was stand firm. Shocked to think we believed their smooth words and heartless appeals.
It was so hard to stand firm! It took so much time. I didn't have the energy after a while. All I wanted was to teach. I wanted to stand in front of those kids and give them my knowledge, open their minds to the possibilities. But they kept at me. Telling me they couldn't meet my needs, that my demands were too dear, that my compensation would be detrimental to the children.
I listened and didn't believe them. I did not want to think that my place in this world was so devalued. I wanted to think that they had ulterior motives, they wanted something else from me, from us. Well, it turned out all they wanted was my blood. They wanted to suck us all dry and leave us to rot. They wanted us to work for pennies while they filled their coffers with cold cash. They want to take from everyone, even their precious children.
Later, after its all over and cooler minds prevail, we look at what we settled for and are shocked. Yes, shocked to see we caved, when all we needed to do was stand firm. Shocked to think we believed their smooth words and heartless appeals.
It was so hard to stand firm! It took so much time. I didn't have the energy after a while. All I wanted was to teach. I wanted to stand in front of those kids and give them my knowledge, open their minds to the possibilities. But they kept at me. Telling me they couldn't meet my needs, that my demands were too dear, that my compensation would be detrimental to the children.
I listened and didn't believe them. I did not want to think that my place in this world was so devalued. I wanted to think that they had ulterior motives, they wanted something else from me, from us. Well, it turned out all they wanted was my blood. They wanted to suck us all dry and leave us to rot. They wanted us to work for pennies while they filled their coffers with cold cash. They want to take from everyone, even their precious children.
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Winter
It is not raining in Northern California and that's a problem. We are at the middle of January and we have had no rain this month and trace amounts in December. It's been cold, freezing temperatures every night for a couple of weeks. People who live in the Midwest and East think we're whiners, but this no rain thing is a serious threat. Every kid I come in contact with has a runny nose. I sound like a broken record, "blow your nose! Quit wiping it with your sleeve!"
I buy boxes of tissue every year. When the budget crunch first hit, we decided that buying pencils was a better idea than tissue. My classroom is filthy. Since custodians were laid off first, about 3-4 years ago, no one cleans counter tops or desk tops any more and the floor gets vacuumed once a week. I walked in on a colleague the other day vacuuming her room during her prep. She had a substitute teacher the day before and the floor was covered in little pieces of paper. One hundred and sixty students roll through her room every day, and she was disgusted by the mess. Another colleague who teaches science, cleans with anti-bacterial soap every week. She is determined not to get sick.
I hate living in California right now; I used to love it. I loved talking about how everything was so progressive, so innovative. No more. The Governor has a few good ideas and if the legislature can agree, maybe we can turn things around. But man, living in this nightmare of no funding really is horrible.
I hate teaching in EGUSD right now. Yeah, I said it. I used to be so proud of our schools, the way I was treated as a teacher. Now, it just sucks. I sat at the school board meeting last week and listened while two approaches to budgeting were presented. Fagan, the money guy for EGUSD contrasted with Schidmor and Chatten, money guys for EGEA. It boils down to the district adding money to their reserves while the employees make sacrifices and programs are cut. EGUSD has a $63 million reserve fund and your kids have less school days. I have less time to teach what I need to, I buy my own kleenexes, my classroom is dirty, and EGUSD has a reserve fund about 6 times larger than it needs to be.
See the problem?? No rain, no money.
Then Diane Ravitch came to town! Ironically, the day Diane Ravitch spoke to Sacramento area teachers, it poured. It rained in buckets. I was uplifted! She gave us hope by providing us with ammunition for those who would seek to destroy the great American tradition of public education. Maybe things will get better? I can only hope.
I buy boxes of tissue every year. When the budget crunch first hit, we decided that buying pencils was a better idea than tissue. My classroom is filthy. Since custodians were laid off first, about 3-4 years ago, no one cleans counter tops or desk tops any more and the floor gets vacuumed once a week. I walked in on a colleague the other day vacuuming her room during her prep. She had a substitute teacher the day before and the floor was covered in little pieces of paper. One hundred and sixty students roll through her room every day, and she was disgusted by the mess. Another colleague who teaches science, cleans with anti-bacterial soap every week. She is determined not to get sick.
I hate living in California right now; I used to love it. I loved talking about how everything was so progressive, so innovative. No more. The Governor has a few good ideas and if the legislature can agree, maybe we can turn things around. But man, living in this nightmare of no funding really is horrible.
I hate teaching in EGUSD right now. Yeah, I said it. I used to be so proud of our schools, the way I was treated as a teacher. Now, it just sucks. I sat at the school board meeting last week and listened while two approaches to budgeting were presented. Fagan, the money guy for EGUSD contrasted with Schidmor and Chatten, money guys for EGEA. It boils down to the district adding money to their reserves while the employees make sacrifices and programs are cut. EGUSD has a $63 million reserve fund and your kids have less school days. I have less time to teach what I need to, I buy my own kleenexes, my classroom is dirty, and EGUSD has a reserve fund about 6 times larger than it needs to be.
See the problem?? No rain, no money.
Then Diane Ravitch came to town! Ironically, the day Diane Ravitch spoke to Sacramento area teachers, it poured. It rained in buckets. I was uplifted! She gave us hope by providing us with ammunition for those who would seek to destroy the great American tradition of public education. Maybe things will get better? I can only hope.
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