Locked and Loaded in Harrold

In my first instance of linking to an earlier post, you may remember the wit with which I handled the decision of the Harrold school district to allow its teachers to carry concealed handguns.

Now the New York Times weighs in on the subject with a good deal of detail and color (don't you know that editors in New York love it when the phone rings about a story that confirms their worst stereotypes about Texas? I'm amazed that it took the writer five paragraphs to use the words "frontier justice"). This is a topic that I will confess that I don't have the answer to, but I will tell you what I think. The issue here is simple: safety. Clearly the school board--and by extension, the residents--believe that the best way to keep their students safe is to allow teachers to have weapons on campus. And the question readers should ask themselves is, "As a parent, would I feel safer too?"

My answer is no. Though I understand that we have to do as much as possible to protect our kids from the shootings that have plagued our schools, I have a hard time believing this is the best way to do it. A couple of things:

1. Which has the highest likelihood: A psychopath enters a school with the intention of killing as many people as possible? Or a teacher accidentally misplaces a weapon during the course of the school year? (Or ten teachers or twenty, since we don't know who has one?)
2. If it's the latter, it's not much of a stretch to imagine what accidents might happen if a student stumbles across the weapon first. That's a blow to the safety argument.
   
3. Harrold argues that it is too far from the local sheriff's office in case there's an emergency. In my mind, that speaks to a larger concern about police and EMS protection in the town. I realize this is a rural area, but wouldn't officers naturally gravitate to a population center, in this case the school, if they were worried about a shooting or other incident?
   
4. Is it really safer to have teachers intervene in a crisis by firing a weapon, even with the training they receive? I've been trained in CPR, but trust me, you don't want to pass out on my watch.
   
5. But if you answered yes to number 4, doesn't it at least seem reasonable to have only one person on the faculty (a principal, say) who is specially trained to handle a firearm in a crisis situation? That would solve the problem of having an officer assigned to the campus. And it would limit the number of weapons in the school, which would make an accident far less likely.

As it stands, the school is taking too much of a chance, and I worry that Harrold, in an attempt to make schools safer, has done the opposite. So what do you think? Let me know in the comments section or by answering the nifty poll to your right.

Breaking News

This just in from the kiddo, who has finished day four:

"Dad, you know the girl who sits beside me? She throwed up today in class! On the desk, on the carpet, and on someone's lunch box."

We'll bring you more news as it happens. You may now return to your regularly scheduled programming.

A Small Reprieve

I drove the kiddo to school this morning, and she seemed particularly excited about seeing her new friend. In fact, as we crossed the parking lot--holding hands, no less--she announced to the assistant principal, who was helping direct traffic, "I love kindergarten!"

As we approached the main doors, my daughter pulled me down to her and whispered in my ear, "Daddy, I can go in by myself. I don't need you to walk me." I paused, collected myself, and in the spirit of wanting her to be independent--even if that means she'll one day move out of the house, graduate from college, get married, have her own kids, and never live at home again, thus rendering me useless--told her that she could. I gently reminded her that I would be happy to go with her, but if she wanted to do it on her own, that would be fine. Obviously I knew what this meant, because I've seen the movies: Once a child does something by herself, she's never asks for help with it again. She smiled and kissed me on the cheek and trotted off.

Of course, I had no intention of letting her go by herself. I was going to trail behind her ten or fifteen yards so that she couldn't see me, a skill I first learned years ago when I was courting Public School Mom (I'm kidding). As she opened the front door, she looked back and saw me standing in the middle of the walkway, and she shooed me off. I then pretended to examine a nearby bike rack and glanced back at her. She was now inside, watching me through the glass. And that's when a look came over her face that I recognized immediately: She was suddenly unsure. I smiled at her, and she burst back through the door. As I knelt down, she told me, "Daddy, I got a little nervous." I squeezed her hand, and we walked inside together. Tomorrow she may decide that she's ready, but I was happy to have today.

The Onion on Education

Even on my best day, The Onion is funnier than I am.

We're Getting to Be Old Pros at This

Now that days two and three are under our belt, we're certainly falling into the new routine. I worried that the schedule was catching up to her yesterday and today. Despite ten full hours of sleep each evening, she wasn't her usual self. Though that was to be expected, I was caught off-guard on Tuesday morning when she asked, "Can we skip kindergarten just this one day?"

Another problem came up with the class's first visit to the library. The kiddo, who has made regular trips to our city library for as long as she can remember, was disappointed to find out that the class was going to discuss the rules, not read books. This did not sit well.

But today was a different story, mainly because she made a friend. They played together at morning recess, and they played together in the afternoon. Very sweet. It made think about my school days, where the one thing worth getting up for was to see your friends. She was also excited because she hadn't gotten in any trouble during the first three days--"her card was green," in kindergarten parlance--so she picked out a toy from the class treasure chest: a princess holding a cake that lights up. If only work were more like elementary school.

Day One in Review

So how did the daughter do on her first day of school? The easiest way to answer is to say that when she came home, she wanted to play kindergarten in her room. A great day all around. There were a few small complaints ("Oh, it was hot at recess"), but the main thing is that she's looking forward to tomorrow and is excited about school.

I was so proud of her that I let her pick what we did this evening. She wanted to go fishing, so fish we did. While Canadian bacon didn't work as well as our traditional Oscar Mayer center-cut bacon, we still caught two nice little perch at the pond near our house. And though it was an honest-to-goodness school night, it sure felt like summer, if only for a little while longer.

Confessions of a Second-Year Teacher

I know, I know: "Confessions" is a shameless attempt to grab your attention. But let's be honest, it would be nice if I weren't the only person reading this blog.

Anyway, over burgers at our favorite joint, I recently interviewed a good friend of mine who is teaching junior high in his hometown. He offers great insights about his rookie year in the classroom.
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You finished your first year teaching in the public schools last spring. What made you switch careers and go into education?

I was really interested in teaching right out of college, and I was a substitute teacher in my hometown. I was taking Spanish lessons and was interested in teaching ESL, but for some reason I never got my certification. So I took this weird, winding path into journalism for several years, and I loved that. But I reached the point where I was ready to put it all on the line and make the switch to teaching. And I loved it.

So you did alternative certification?

Yes, Texas Teaching Fellows. It's a highly respected certification program that offers student teaching over the summer. In most programs you just do the classes over the summer but don't get to teach. I learned a lot, and was in the classroom after the first or second day.

How did the first year of teaching measure up to your expectations? Was it harder? Easier?

Sometimes just conducting class can be impossible.

Classroom management?

Right, classroom management. That is a constant battle, especially for a first-year teacher. I couldn't put a high enough percentage of my time into it, and it sucks up all of my time. It made it hard to do almost anything else.

The curriculum was easy if you just went "out of the box," which is what I was supposed to be doing. They want you to stick to the curriculum, but that makes it extremely boring for you and the kids. I went off the curriculum some, but it would have been hard for me to do it more often because of classroom management.

And the middle school level is often thought of as one of the hardest to teach. Kids are at a tough age, emotionally and physically.

Yeah, and you add to that the fact that most of our entire school population is economically disadvantaged. For some of these kids, the last thing they are thinking about is what's going on in class. That's downtime for them. They don't have to think about surviving, which may be a little dramatic, but it's true. In class, they're not worried about their day-to-day living and how tough that is.

It's really sad to watch some of the kids you like who are smart get into trouble outside of school or in another class. They get plucked out of the classroom and put in jail or an alternative classroom. It's a whole different world these days. These students are dealing with so many more serious issues than we ever did.

And that happened to you last year? Kids going to jail.

Yeah. Oh, yeah.

When you talk about classroom management, are you talking about behavioral issues? Keeping them focused? What's the biggest challenge?

Keeping them from talking, keeping them focused. But I have to take responsibility for some of that. As a teacher, you have to be engaging; you have to be interesting. But when these kids are done paying attention, they are done. If they're on to the next thing, it's hard to get them back.

Do you think back to when you were in junior high and what you were like as a student?

I wasn't a model student. I was a cut-up. Now I wonder, "How bad of a cut-up was I? Was the teacher really angry? Or was I really not that disruptive?" You start thinking about that. You ask yourself, "How much of this is payback? How much of this is bad karma?"

So how do you handle kids who are acting up?

I started off so organized. So methodical [laughs]. I thought I was going to have such a structured disciplinary process. I mean, how could there ever be any deviation [laughs]? You learn very quickly about the unintended consequences. I had a clipboard, and if they got in trouble, they had to go up and write their name on it. And if they got in trouble again, they would have to go up and put a check by their name. And I thought the shame of it would be enough [both laugh]. I mean, how could they ever disrupt class again after the shame of the dreaded clipboard? And of course, this turns out to be the biggest parade in the whole world.

They're onstage?

Exactly. Here's your Walk of Fame to the clipboard and back. So I found myself already backing off of something like, [speaks in mock authoritarian voice] "Now here's the deal. This is the way it's going to be." And of course, the second week, no more clipboard. Then there's two warnings and then a detention. That's forever. If every kid in the class gets a warning? [throw his hands up]. Seriously, you don't think about that stuff. Two strikes and you're out? Well, it works in baseball.

I taught middle school for one year after college, and we had a speaker at the start of the year who said, "If a kid doesn't do something every day that makes you laugh, you're in the wrong profession." I tried to think about that when I had to discipline students.

That's a really great point to make. You know, you start to feel like the bad guy. You have to lead the class, and you feel negative sometimes. You start to wonder, "Am I just yelling at the kids all the time." There's a lot of self-doubt involved. This next year I definitely want to try to redirect things instead of just putting a stop to it.

During your first year, did you feel like you could see academic progress in your students? It must really vary between the kids, I'm sure.

Yes, it does vary. Some kids who couldn't do much at the beginning of the year were answering questions and were really engaged. There was one student who still didn't pass the TAKS, but I saw him try and I felt really bad about it. So I put him on the yearbook staff for this year, which was about the only thing I could do as far as institutionalized praise or promotion.

Tell me a little bit about your time during the day. Do you ever have time to yourself? In a traditional office, you can sneak away to Starbucks for fifteen minutes or go out to lunch.

Most schools, I believe, have one planning period during the day. The reading program that I teach is out of a workbook that the kids cannot take home. So most of that was easy grade. My off periods were spent catching up. I had to get in-school suspension work ready for the kids. That takes up a lot of time when kids go to ISS, either from my class or another. That's a bit of a black hole. And I spent time arranging group photos for the yearbook.

You sound really energetic about your experience. How would you describe the morale of the faculty in general?

We have a really positive school, and a big part of that is the administration, specifically the principal. He's hands-off, and he doesn't micromanage. He lets us do our thing, and he takes care of problems. We had 83 staff meetings all year, and they each lasted about five minutes. Long staff meetings will kill morale faster than anything.

You are teaching in your hometown. How do you think the schools have changed since you were a student?

My junior high was much more middle class; the school that I'm teaching at now is almost entirely economically disadvantaged, and it's only three miles away. It's split pretty evenly between blacks, Hispanics, and Asians, and we don't even have an Anglo subpopulation for the TAKS.

You've mentioned the TAKS test a couple of times. How important is it in the public schools?

There's lip service given to the fact that we don't teach to the test and that's not all we care about, but at the end of the day that's really the gold standard. That's how you're measured. Those are the cold, hard numbers, and they're standardized across the state. That's what everyone looks at, and that's how we get our funding.

Last question, how's the cafeteria food?

You know, I don't eat in the cafeteria. In fact, I didn't eat at all last year. I was too stressed. I just had to get stuff done and prepare for the next class. You always feel like you need to catch up. You're facing those kids every day, and if you're not on your game, you get eaten alive. If there's downtime in your classroom, it's over.

I Believe in Dalton Sherman

Dallas Morning News
Here's a truly inspirational way to start the new school year.

Day One

As it turns out, our morning had as much drama as a weekend nap. Our daughter woke up easily at 6:45, though she started the day with a quip: "Oh, I didn't know I was going to have to wake up this early." Pancakes were eaten, the new outfit was tried on, and pictures were snapped. The only danger of our running late for class came because we took so many photographs and shot so much video.

Campus was buzzing when we arrived at 7:55, and when we came through the front door, a cheerful woman greeted us and asked the kiddo what grade she was in. She politely replied, "Um, I'm not in a grade. Today is my first day of kindergarten." We made our way to our room, where most of the other kids were already at their desks, quietly coloring. Yes, I said quietly. The room was absolutely calm, and the students seemed perfectly content. Only the parents, still snapping photographs from the hallway, were teary-eyed, including the wonderful Public School Mom.

So how did I do? Steady as can be with eyes as dry as paper, but that's only because I'm still in stage one: denial.

Tonight's Required Reading

Our bedtime story tonight was Nancy Carlson's Look Out Kindergarten, Here I Come! It's a sweet little story about a giant mouse named Henry who wears blue pants and red shoes. I did some editing as I read, skipping the part where Henry, after showing boundless enthusiasm, bursts into tears at the door to his classroom and exclaims, "I want to go home." (I think my on-the-fly rewriting went something along the lines of, "This place looks great!") The daughter has been so excited about kindergarten, I don't think she's the slightest bit anxious about tomorrow morning. And it finally dawned on my earlier this week that I needed to stop asking her if she was nervous because I was afraid I was going to single-handedly make her think she had something to be nervous about. As it stands, she's already sound asleep. Here's to a quiet night and an eventful morning.

Sign of the Times

The family was driving through Anna this afternoon, and as we zipped past one of the local schools, we saw this on the sign outside:

"First Day of School

August 25 8:00 AM

Tears and Tissues"

At least I'm not the only one.

Now That We've Met the Teacher, There's Only One Thing Left to Do:

Start kindergarten on Monday. Sigh.

As for last night, everything went great. We were so impressed with the school and the teachers, and I think we're going to have a great year. On the drive over, the kiddo piped up from the back seat that she was nervous, but a few minutes later she changed her mind and told us that she wanted to write her yet-to-be-introduced teacher a note:

"Dear Teacher, I know I'm going to love kindergarten. When kindergarten is over, I'm going to miss you very much. I love you."

Very sweet, and we hadn't even pulled into the parking lot yet. As expected, the campus was packed. The school, both inside and out, and spotless, and the floors practically glowed. I recalled a conversation I had with a principal in another district a few years back who went from an affluent campus to one that had more than 90 percent of its students on free or reduced lunches. He told me that he took only one person with him from the old school: the custodian. Appearance was that important to him.

We found our new classroom right away, and the teacher was wonderful: energetic and sweet and really happy to see the kids. This school has five kindergarten classes (one is ESL), and our classroom has 21 students. That sounds like a lot, but the room is big and bright, with lots of places for the children to spread out. Our kiddo immediately felt at home and couldn't wait to hit the toys. She also did great when she met the teacher and the principal. In fact, I didn't realize that she planned to curtsy for everyone, and she did so perfectly. Everyone laughed, which, of course, only encouraged her to do it again. (She got that from me.)

All in all, it was a great evening. I bragged on her for being so well behaved as we left, and Mom suggested a milkshake to celebrate. Then, as we walked outside to a paved courtyard, the kiddo began running in big circles in her dress and sandals--and promptly wiped out. Stretched out sideways on the concrete, she let out that wail that only children have, and after I helped her up, she showed me a huge bloody scrape on her elbow. I felt terribly for her, but deep down I have to admit it made me smile. For as grown-up and mature as she had acted while we were inside, I was glad to know that she's still just a little girl whose first impulse is to run as fast as she can whenever she has the chance. And I was glad to know that she still needs me to pick her up and make her feel better from time to time.

Countdown to "Meet the Teacher Night"

We're down to about nine hours before the official kickoff to the new school year: Meet the Teacher Night.

We'll get to see our classroom, find our desk, and of course, meet the lucky woman who will have to deal with our daughter five days a week for the next nine months. (A quick insight into my daughter's personality: If we are anywhere that a person asks, "Does anyone have questions"--Vacation Bible School, Sea World, soccer practice, an international conference on nuclear proliferation--her hand will shoot up as if it were spring-loaded. My advice to said future teacher: Never ask the class if they have questions. But I digress . . .)

Expect a full update from the evening tomorrow. And how I hope our new teacher had a long, relaxing summer.

"Its Problems Didn't Make Permian a Bad School, Just a Typically American One"

I have been rereading the book Friday Night Lights this past week, and in addition to being an account of the Odessa Permian football team, it's a history of the town and the high school. In the "School Days" chapter, there's a long section on academics that begins on page 130, which I'll excerpt and edit here. What surprises me about this passage--though perhaps it shouldn't--is that the author, H.G. "Buzz" Bissinger, was out in West Texas exactly twenty years ago. The mood here sounds like something I wouldn't expect two decades ago:

It was not uncommon for teachers at Permian to teach for only a quarter or a third of the period and then basically let students do whatever they wanted as long as they did it quietly. It was also unusual to find teachers who demanded from students their very best, who refused to succumb to the notion that there was no reason to challenge them because they simply didn't care. . . .

Many teachers felt that no matter how creative they were in the classroom, it wouldn't make a difference anyway. They talked about a devastating erosion in standards, how the students of today bore no resemblance to the students of even ten or fifteen years ago, how their preoccupations were with anything but school. It was hard for teachers not to feel depressed by the lack of rudimentary knowledge, like in the history class in which students were asked to name the president after John F. Kennedy. Several students meekly raised their hands and proffered the name of Harry Truman. None gave the correct answer of Lyndon Johnson, who also happened to have been a native Texan. . . .

"It still amazes me when I give a test in grammar and the kids can do it," said English teacher Elodia Hilliard with more than a touch of sadness in her voice. "It used to be the other way around. I used to be surprised whenever they didn't know it. Now I'm amazed when they do know it." When Hilliard looked around the classroom, she saw students with no direction, and she wondered if they saw any point at all in being well read and intelligent. She listened to parents who, rather than promising to try to motivate their children, made excuses for them--the homework was too hard, or the book they had been assigned had too many cuss words in it. Even when she got them to read, the leap to conceptual, creative thinking seemed as far off as a trip to Jupiter. It almost seemed to her and other teachers as if the students were scared of it.

There was a time when she had unflappable faith in her profession, when she had encouraged the best and brightest to follow in her footsteps and spread the gospel of literature and grammar with evangelical zeal. But not anymore. "I really felt we made a difference. Now I'm beginning to wonder. I don't know. I'm really uncertain."

I'll try to find out if Hilliard is still in Odessa. In the meantime, to mark our first day of school, on Monday I'll post an interview I did with a friend who just completed his first full year teaching junior high.

New Meaning to the Phrase "Aim for Success"

San Antonio Express-News
In the spirit of catching up with older news, remind me not to enroll my daughter in the Harrold school district, which is 150 miles northwest of Fort Worth.

My question is, if teachers start bringing guns to class, should students add bullet-proof vests to their school supply list?

School Is in Session . . .

. . . but not only for my daughter. For me as well.

On Monday, my wife and I will send our first-born off to kindergarten. I'm only half-joking when I say that I'm hyperventilating about this: First, it doesn't seem possible that she's old enough. Second, did I mention that it doesn't seem possible that she's old enough?

So as a parent new to the school system, I thought it would be interesting to chronicle our adventures. I'm not starting this blog because of how much I know about the public schools. I'm starting it because of how much I don't. But nothing is more important to me than her success and happiness, and I believe it's up to me to take as active a role as possible.

For the record, my wife and I are both strong supporters of public schools. A number of our friends and colleagues have chosen to enroll their children in private schools, but we never seriously considered that option. We both are proud graduates of Texas public schools, and we are both grateful for the education we received. We can only hope that our daughter has the same opportunity. And my first job out of college was teaching in the public schools in our hometown. Though I taught for only one year, it remains one of the best experiences of my professional life.

That said, I'm not a booster, and I'm not pushing an agenda. I'm interested in discussing solutions to problems, praising the schools when they do well, and asking questions when they don't. After all, my daughter's future is at stake.