I could have just shut the door and come up with Plan B, but I didn’t; I’m nothing if not persistent.  And now you see how one thing led to another because in order to enact my plan, I first had to empty the closet.  I don’t know why the clothes in the closet were there; they were all winter clothes, so perhaps I put them in there last winter.  In fact, I’m quite sure that’s what happened since I know that a clothes fairy did not come in and move my clothes around.   Now that it’s getting close to winter, I may need those clothes again anyway, so I’m glad I found them.  Let the shuffling begin.  Winter clothes have to be moved to the appropriate spot in the main closet (by color and sleeve-length, remember) while clothes I’ve worn to work (plus anything out of season) gets moved into the out-of-sight closet.  Remember that I never intended to do this today.  In the first place, I had forgotten about the winter clothes that were in the closet and in the second place, I was just putting up one shirt from the laundry.  But there I was, shuffling my spring and winter wardrobe about when it became apparent that I have a problem.

If it’s not bad enough that I’ve forgotten about an entire winter’s wardrobe, I also discovered at least a dozen (I suspect there are more, but I finally just decided I had had enough of myself) brand new items.  Tags still on.  Never been worn.  I should make a rule for myself that I will not buy any new clothes until I have worn everything that is currently in my closet(s).  I should also quit with the one-time-to-school rule.  I thought perhaps I should go with a uniform of some sort–a Monday outfit, a Tuesday outfit, and so on.  Then I remembered that thou shalt not should on thyself and wondered what type of activity I could pursue in which one thing would not lead to another.  I hate to go to bed at 5:30 in the afternoon, but I guess that’s what I’m left with.  What is wrong with me?

That’s only the beginning, though, and now the work begins.  I’ve done a little research (very little research–probably should have done more of it before I committed to this!), and the general consensus seems to be that this project on which I’ve embarked (am about to embark?) takes about 15 hours a week–oh my gosh, do I have 15 extra hours a week?  I guess it doesn’t matter–I have to do it, so I’ll do it.  I’ve managed to get through my life up to this point by doing what I have to do, so I guess I’ll be able to do this, too.

I’ve printed out some of the pages from the DVD that was in the box, and I have every intention of going through those papers very soon and trying to put together a plan of action.  I’ve started keeping track of my interactions with parents because one of the forms is for that very purpose; I figure that’s as good a place as any to begin.  So I guess I’ve begun.

I know very well that hope is not a plan, so I’m not just hoping I’ll do well.  I know I need a specific plan to get through this, so that’s the next thing on my list o’ things to do:  Look over the stuff in the now-opened box and create a to-do list.  I operate from lists, always have, so just the process of creating a list will help me to get my head around the things I’m going to need to accomplish over the course of the next several months.  Here’s to making and following a plan!

I’m not sure what has to happen to call something a “syndrome,” but I think I’m onto something here, and I’m very hopeful that some of the stuff I’m not getting accomplished waits for me in my next lifetime.  Or maybe I don’t because maybe that’s my problem now.  All of the stuff I was supposed to accomplish in my last lifetime (or 20) just piled up into this lifetime’s list o’ things to do, and now I’m so far behind I might never catch up.  Or maybe I’ll lap myself on this life’s track and miraculously be caught up.  There’s a plan.  Wait a minute.  I always tell my students that hope is not a plan, so I guess I should put my money where my mouth is.

Here’s an illustration of the current state of my affairs:  Within my sight is a box.  That box came in the mail on Wednesday, September 28; today is Monday, October 3.  Not a week yet.  Anyway, the box says, “Urgent!  Immediate Attention Required.”  Yeah.  I know.  I know what’s in the box, but I don’t want to open it.  I’m afraid to open it.  I don’t know if I’m ready to take that next step and if I open it, I have to get started on what’s in it.  See, I applied for and was accepted into the National Board Certification process, and now I need to get started on it.  I don’t know why I’m so nervous about this–I know I can do it intellectually.  I’m just not ready to make the commitment.  And once I open the box, I’m committed.

The crazy thing is that I’m committed anyway.  I’ve paid my money, I’ve applied for the scholarship, and it’s a done deal.  If I back out, I lose my deposit (gulp–$565)–no exceptions on that.  It’s a done deal, and I have to do it.  I’m not really sure why I’m dragging my feet on opening that box, but there it sits.

I need a plan, so here it is:  I have some time on Wednesday afternoon at work.  I’m taking the box to work and will open it then and take the next steps.  It’s time, and waiting a week somehow seems appropriate.  Don’t ask why–I can’t make sense of it.  The River of Denial has some amazing properties that lead people to justify their actions, or lack thereof, in some crazy ways.  At this point in my life, as long as I get to that box by Wednesday, all will be well.

I’ve had all of my students sign up for WordPress blogs again this year, and they will be posting their first entries this week.  One reason I need to write regularly is because I expect them to do it.  Good teaching includes good modeling.  I also know of several people lately who have written books/stories/plays and have actually sent their work in to publishers.  I read memoirs and think, “I could write this.”  I don’t know if I’m quite ready to make that commitment but if I’m ever going to do it, I need to be a writer.  I need to write.  Finally, I feel better when I write.  Maybe somehow writing will help me with my other goals as well.

Today is the first day of the rest of my life, or, as Mary Wollstonecraft said, “The beginning is always today.”

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t have a problem taking the course and learning more about best practices/effective teaching strategies. If that’s what were actually happening, I wouldn’t have an issue at all. However, that is not what’s happening. I’m not learning anything new, but no one bothers to find out what anyone already knows before submitting us all to to the same training regardless of our previous experience or our current practices.

No one in administration either at the district or my school level ever visits my classroom to see that I do indeed have learning objectives posted on my board every day or that I am already using strategies like Think-Pair-Share, Graffiti Writing, or RAFTs in my teaching. This frustrates me to no end because the very lessons that I’m listening to in my online course keep hammering about the importance of differentiation and figuring out where learners are in their journey when planning lessons to help them advance.  Anyone but me see an issue here?  Do as I say, not as I do?

That’s often the problem with professional development:  We sit through seminars/lectures about what not to do in the classroom when the very presentation we’re sitting through is exactly what they’re telling us not to do.

Is there a lesson here for my classroom?  Several, in fact.

1.  Do honor what my students already know.

2.  Don’t treat them like imbeciles.

3.  Don’t give the same instruction over and over and over and over again.

4.  Don’t tell them to do things that they are already doing.

5.  Do keep lessons relevant.

I’m sure there are more if I really dig, but I don’t have time for that; I need to get back to the ELL training, so I don’t have time to worry about what it is that is actually going to be going on in my classroom when the students return next week.

Students (and their parents) face this same syndrome, only in high school there are no foxholes; there’s just the end of the semester, also known as the “marking period,” or the time when the grade “counts.” For some reason, what we’ve been doing all semester, all 18 weeks of it, matters now. It didn’t matter last week, and it certainly didn’t matter 17, 16, 15, 14 weeks ago. Now I am inundated with student and parent conferences, notes, emails, phone calls to try to figure out what the kid, who might have done NOTHING all semester, needs to do to go from a 14% to passing overnight.

Here is a sample of yesterday’s correspondence (all names are fake):
1. “Please excuse Hector from the final. We were busy last night, and he didn’t have time to complete it.” Let me clarify that the final writing assignment was assigned more than a month ago, and I gave the students several time periods in class during which to work on it. But, yeah….I’ll just excuse Hector from having to do it. Why not?
2. “Please allow Heloise to turn in her English final next week. She had band practice for 3 hours last night and just didn’t have time to write that paper. If she can turn it in next week, she will be able to do a much better job. Thanks for your understanding.” Sure.  After all, band practice is much more important than English.   Next week when I’m on vacation, I’ll be thinking about Heloise’s paper. Then I can grade it and go through the paperwork and hassle of a grade change when we return to school in January.  Why not?
3. “Mrs. Scow, I know I haven’t done much this semester, but is it okay if I turn in all of my missing assignments tomorrow? I’m almost done with them.” Really? I should stop grading all of the final papers that came in on time and must be in the gradebook by Thursday and grade work for you that you didn’t do for 18 weeks? Sure. Why not?
4. “We are disenrollling Herberta from school because she has been bullied all year long so we are moving her to another school where she will be less likely to harm herself. I just looked at your gradebook and was surprised to discover that Herberta has an F in your class. We have demanded that the new school allow Herberta to play on the basketball team even though she did not make the team here because the coach was a bully, and they said she had to have all passing grades from this semester. In order for her not to harm herself, we need you to change her grade to passing.” Gee, if only I had known that Herberta was having such issues, perhaps I could have helped. Instead, you chose to keep her out of school at least 3 days a week for the entire semester, during which time she did not do any work, nor did she ever come in for any appointments I set up with her to try to help her get caught up. Not to mention that my gradebook is live on the Internet and can be accessed from any computer–I’m surprised you didn’t know she had an F prior to now. Plus, grades are posted weekly in the classroom, so I’m surprised Herberta didn’t know she had an F. All the phone calls and emails home about her F and spotty attendance must have gone unnoticed as well. In order to make things better for her, though, I’ll just change her grade. What would you like it to be?  Why not?

5.  “If I do really good on the final, can I bring my grade up from a D to an A?  I have to have an A.  If I don’t have an A, I can’t go on vacation, and we are leaving on Saturday, so I really need the final to be worth enough.  Okay?”  Why not?

6.  “I see in the gradebook that my child has a 90%.  What are the chances that she will not do well on the final and end up with a B?  She can’t end up with a B.  If she gets a B, she won’t get in to Harvard, so I need you to ensure that her grade does not dip below 90%.”  A, thanks for keeping tabs on the online gradebook.  B, thanks for knowing that we have a final.  C, why not?

7.  “I see in the gradebook that Hattie scored a 69% on the multiple choice final.  Is this accurate?  How did she score 69% ?  What did she miss?  Is this a typo?”  I don’t know why she scored a 69%.  No, it’s not a typo; she really scored 69% on the final that was given today and entered into the gradebook 12 minutes ago.  Thanks for checking in so often.  Would you like for me to change her score to 75%?  How about 82%  Why not?

Let's say that I go shopping for a certain item and don't find it at the first store I go to. Does that mean "it wasn't meant to be" and I should not have that item? No, it just means it's not at that store, and I need to go somewhere else for it if I really want it. If one of my students doesn't understand something I'm teaching the first time we go over it, does that mean "it wasn't meant to be" for that student to get that concept? What about the 5th time or the 17th time or the 101st time I explain it? At some point, the kid's gonna get it and if I gave up after one or two or 12 times because I believed "it wasn't meant to be," I sold that kid short.

We take our fate into our own hands. We make decisions, and we make things happen. That doesn't negate my belief in God to guide my choices or to give me the strength I need to make things happen. I definitely believe that God plays a role in what happens; I just don't believe He makes things easy for us all the time. Sometimes, oftentimes, we have to work for what we want and if we give up because "it wasn't meant to be," we are shortchanging ourselves. If something doesn't happen for you, try harder. Don't give up. Don't make excuses. Don't pretend you have no control. Make it happen.

Every so often (about once in a blue moon perhaps), I get a positive note from a parent. It’s not that I get tons of negative feedback; it’s just that if there’s nothing they want to complain about, they don’t contact me. I guess that’s human nature. What I’m wondering is if I should add something about praise or kudos to the line about questions or concerns. It’s not that I need praise from parents, but I would like to know if what they are seeing at home as far as work their kids are doing seems worthwhile and important. I’d like to know if the updates are appreciated. I’d like to know if all the communication I work hard to make happen is necessary.

I work hard at what I do, as do most working people, and few of us get praise in the form of raises or bonuses or pats on the back from our bosses or coworkers. At my school, we have a couple of things we try to do to celebrate our accomplishments, but we don’t do a very good job. When our colleagues go above and beyond, we have the opportunity to fill out Lightning Bolts, which are certificates of appreciation, and then each month at a staff meeting, names of people who received Lightning Bolts are put into a pot and drawn out randomly for small prizes that have been donated. The list of all of the people who were recognized is then sent to the entire staff via email. It’s become a big pain in the neck, frankly. The idea behind it was to recognize and celebrate colleagues who go above and beyond, but it’s turned into just recognizing people for doing the job they get paid to do or for just being in the right spot at the right time. For example, I received a Lightning Bolt last year because when a coworker fainted while I was standing there, I picked up the phone and called 911 and made sure my coworker got what she needed. Really? I need to be recognized for that? What else was I going to do? People get Lightning Bolts for attending sporting events and bringing coffee to their friends/office mates. They get them for a variety of reasons that don’t have anything to do with going above and beyond their job description.

Teachers in my building are weary of being called out as a group for the sins of a few. We are expected to post grades on a weekly basis so that academic eligibility can be determined. Each week, there are a handful of folks who do not post their grades, which means the whole staff gets an email about posting grades. We are also expected to keep our websites updated. Most teachers do this, but there are a few who don’t, which causes the mass email to go out to tell all of us to keep our websites updated. No one likes to be told he or she hasn’t done the job when he or she has, in fact, done the job.

I am not proposing that people who post their grades weekly like they are supposed to receive a Lightning Bolt. I would like it if those folks were the only ones who were called out about what they’re doing wrong, but they’re not really who I’m talking about it this post.  I do think that people who have great websites should be recognized.  People who have solid learning objectives for their lessons ought to be recognized as well.  Folks whose classes continue to do well on standardized tests should be recognized.  People who serve on committees deserve recognition.  I’m sure we can come up with many other reasons to give Lightning Bolts.  I will be filling some out this week for my coworkers who truly go above and beyond.  Who better to know that than fellow teachers?

Questions?  Comments?  Praise?

Anyway, the big question now is, what am I, the paternal grandmother, going to be called?  I can’t be “Gramma.”  It’s not that I don’t want to be a grandmother; of course I’m ready for that part of my life.  It’s just that I had a Gramma for 44 years, and she was “Gramma” to pretty much everyone who knew her.  I’m just not ready to take her name and position in the family.  And I don’t want to be “Gramma Tricia” because “Tricia” is pretty hard for a child to pronounce.  The last thing I want is for my grandson to struggle pronouncing my name!  Then he’d come up with something else — some other way to say it — and I guess we’d just go with that.  For instance, my good friend is called “Humma” by her grandson who couldn’t quite get “Gramma” out when he was first starting to talk.  The fact is that I’ll answer (and probably come running!) to whatever he decides to call me, but I also want to have some way to identify myself, a name that shows I’m his grandmother, you know?  At first I thought I might like to be called “Gigi.”  I heard it on some program and thought it sounded like something a kid could say easily enough and something that could be a grandmother’s title.  Jason, however, hated it and said he didn’t think it sounded “gramma-y” enough.  Right now, we’re trying out “Nonna,” which is Italian for grandmother.  We’ll see how that goes.