Giving and Getting

Ahh, Christmas Eve.  Anticipation follows preparation, joy follows frantic.  Shopping and wrapping and cooking and singing and decorating and traveling and partying culminate in a host of complex feelings as I go to bed tonight, and the peace, joy and wonder of tomorrow morning.

Those feelings have changed over the years.  I clearly remember the Christmas Eves where sleep was nigh impossible, ears perked for the sound of bells and hooves, dreams of what would await me under the tree.  Would it be a tricycle, a bicycle, a swing set, a train?  I yearned for the gifts yet to be known, gifts hidden under seasonal paper and adorned with ribbon and bows.  I had browsed, I occasionally risked a shake and a heft, but all remained mysterious and exciting.  As a child, I was into the receiving end of Christmas and could barely wait for Christmas morning when all would be revealed.

I feel very differently now.  I will go to bed tonight sincerely yearning that the gifts I have procured for those I love will be well received.  I want to give the perfect gift.  I want to see joy on the faces of children, peers, family by blood and law as they unwrap what I selected and freely gave them.  The act of giving, a show of love and knowing, means so much more.  The quality of the commercial side of Christmas for me now is the artfulness of my decision making and selections made for those closest to me. 

It may be a comfort to many that I have grown up.  I prefer the giving to receiving.  I have a very difficult time generating a list of Christmas wants for me (OK: a new tie, a new shirt, and dress socks would be nice) and an easy time generating a list of Christmas want-to-gives for others.  This exercise takes place each year with a backdrop of sadness and guilt for those who will not be surrounded by loved ones, for whom Christmas will be sparse, those around the world who would celebrate good shelter, better clothes, safe food and water.  I give what I can to them as well, anonymously and through third parties, but it is not the same.

I would be crestfallen if one of my carefully chosen gifts for one I love was rejected, was trashed, was looked upon with disdain.  I give from the heart with hope of inspiring joy. 

And if that is true for meager, mortal me, how much more true must that have been on the first Christmas when the perfect gift was given.  That remains absolutely overwhelming to me.  I am not man enough, big enough, caring enough to even ponder giving my son to someone else in need, much less to everyone.  I could not bear the pain of seeing that gift (which I am unable to make) be despised, rejected and executed for a host of ungrateful others.  What love!  I aspire to such love, but fall ever so short.

And yet, I aspire to such love.  I’m better now than before.  I love the giving more than the getting.  I think that is what Christmas is about. 

I love you all, those I know and those I do not, in many ways and on many levels, and I sincerely wish for all the gift of love, and a very Merry Christmas!

Welcome, Baron!

Sounds to me like you did it just right, Baron.  Saturday evening, December 17th, ice skating rink in Central Park, New York City, and you arranged for the rink to play a special CD comprised of appropriate music, you arranged to have the staff clear the ice, then escorted our precious daughter Lacey to the center of the rink.  There, on one knee, you asked her to marry you.  New York City, Central Park, ice rink, Christmas time, proposal.  Nicely done.

She said "yes" and you placed a ring on her finger.  My daughter has a fiance and I have a future son-in-law.  Love her always.

Welcome to the family, Baron!

SNAFU: EOC

Perhaps you are not familiar with the acronym SNAFU.  And, perhaps you are aghast that I would juxtapose such an acronym with an educational acronym, EOC.  To be blunt, however, what we have here is a snafu called EOC.

End of Course Exams, or EOC, sound so reasonable on paper:  At the end of each of 12 major core high school subjects students take a standardized test on that subject.  These tests are called End of Course Exams, and are a component of the newly implemented STAAR High Stakes Standardized Testing program in Texas.  (If you like acronyms, you know we are moving from TAKS to STAAR having already finished with TAAS, TEAMS and TABS.)  In truth, the TAKS test was tough on high school teachers and students because the 9th grade Math TAKS test, for instance, not only tested students on some algebraic concepts, it also covered some 8th and 7th grade content as well.  Made it tough to teach algebra and prepare kids for a 9th grade math test.  Now we have an Algebra EOC and that makes much more sense, theoretically.

The snafu is that the Legislature and now TEA and the State Board of Ed. are all in the grading game.  Because those groups do not understand high schools, grades, GPA, graduation requirements, etc., they have created a real mess.  We are required to count the EOC as 15% of the student's final grade in a course.  Sounds simple.  Not.  Students are required to pass the EOCs for Algebra II and English III .  Students are required to have cumulative average on all 12 EOCs to graduate.  Further, the state allows students to re-take EOC exams if they so choose.  All that sounds pretty good until we get to the ground level where we are trying to implement these policies.

Let's say I am a highly competitive, high achieving student and my ambition is to graduate in the top 10% of my class.  (Or, at least that is what my parents want for me.)  I take Algebra in 9th grade.  I have an A average on all my homework, tests, finals, etc.  Now I take the EOC.  I do not do well and score in the mid 60's. That becomes 15% of my grade so my final average for the course drops from say a 93 to a 88 and I make a B in Algebra.  I can re-take the Algebra EOC to help my cumulative EOC score, but when I do, should the new score count on my Algebra grade and my GPA?  If so, is there a limit to the number of times I can take it?  If not, why not?  Why can't I simply wait until I have taken Algebra II my junior year then come back and take the Algebra I EOC.  I should really ace it then! 

On the other hand, let's say I'm a bright kid, but I hate going to class, doing homework, etc.  I get zeros on all my classwork, but when tests roll around I knock the top off.  Going into my Algebra EOC I have a failing average, but I score at the top of the curve on the EOC test.  I am in the superior achievement category!  But, my score is not high enough at 15% to pull my regular course grade up to passing.  Should I be given credit for Algebra?  Why not?  I have more than demonstrated mastery.  Should my EOC count more than 15%?  Should I be allowed to opt for my EOC to count 100%?  State law says it should count 15%, but says nothing about it counting more.

Add to all of the above the fact that we will have seniors who take an EOC in May and must await outcomes that will not be returned until sometime late June or July, and those outcomes determine whether they actually graduate or not.  Shall we simply allow all seniors who complete their coursework to participate in graduation?  Or, should we say you must have passed everything, including your EOCs to graduate?  If so, do we bump graduation to July?  Snafu.

There are a host of other issues.  What do we do with 1/2 credits?  What do we do if parents want to double up their child's math and/or science in a lower grade so they do not have EOCs their senior year and by so doing we kill elective programs and have to re-staff our teaching core?  Etc., etc.  What do we do with athletic eligibility if a student's cumulative EOC score is not high enough to graduate?  The problem for school systems is to implement policies in a way that will  be fair and equitable for all and still comply with state mandates.  The requirement that EOCs count toward a grade, the reality that grades counts toward GPA, and the student opportunity to re-take the test multiple times creates more and more confusion.

We could say that if you get a top score on the EOC your 15% is "100."  Pass and your score is "95."  Fail, regardless of grade, and your score is "69."  If we do that, most students will be helped and we minimize the impact of the EOC on the grading process.  Perhaps, however, that makes too much sense and the state will require us to use an actual translation of the raw or scaled score to a grade that can be used as 15% of the final.

We get it that the state in its current philosophical iteration believes that high stakes standardized tests are the way to promote improved academic success.  (I do not believe that, and there is virtually no evidence to support that philosophical belief, but if I am going to be an educator in Texas I must play by the rules.)  The snafu in this new accountability measure is that the state went too deep into micro management and created a host of problems that will be resolved differently in every system in the state.  No matter what we do it will be perceived as unfair to someone.  Sadly, one way or another, it will be students who suffer, not Legislators.  They do not have to pass an EOC to remain in office.

Incentives and Charter Schools

I just finished completing a survey sent to us by the US Department of Education.  Amazing.  It asked a lot of questions about numbers of students, numbers of teachers, reductions this year compared to last, etc., etc.  I was fine submitting all that data, (well, really, Jan and Beverly had to help me out with a lot of employee and enrollment numbers,) but I got through all that OK.  Seemed to me like reasonable data to collect.

Then the survey took a turn.  They asked if we had "choice", if we had charter schools, and if not, how we supported charter schools.  They asked if we paid incentives to teachers for student performance on standardized tests.  They wanted to know how many charters and how much we paid in incentives.  Unlike the earlier questions where if you selected "None" as a response you were then directed to a later question, this section continued to ask the same thing over and over.  The implication was clear, if we were not supporting charter schools and paying teachers incentives for TAKS or STAAR outcomes, we were somehow out of the loop, going against the flow, not with the program.  My blood pressure rose.  Hence, this post, tapping keys rather than popping pills.

Salary works but incentives do not.  I do not know why that is so hard to explain to folks outside our profession, but it is true.  We lose staff in the summer interim to other systems that pay teachers or administrators more than we pay.  Once a school year begins, contracts are signed and staff is assigned, we are pretty much set personnel-wise for an entire year, barring medical, marital, or reproductive events.  Teachers do not scan the vacancy postings in October and say, "Hey, there is a district in another city where I could earn $2,000 more per year.  I think I'll quit here and go there!"  Doesn't happen for a variety of reasons, but mostly because our staff signs a professional contract whereby they are committed to working with us for a school year, and we are loathe to let them escape that contract midstream.  Summers are different.  We have lost some good folks who are willing to move or commute to earn more money in another system.

Once signed up for a year, however, teachers and principals are going to do the best job they can possibly do.  I have never, ever, experienced a staff member who drove to work in November thinking, "Today, I will work harder than usual because my kids might perform better on a test in April so I might get more money next September."  The fallacy in the belief that someone might operate that way is so blatant to me I cannot fathom why anyone would support it, but it is the rage, the new assumption about one strategy to improve public education.  Say to a teacher, "I will give you $100 extra if you will do bus duty today," and you may get a bunch of takers.  (In fact, say to a teacher, "Will you cover bus duty today, I really need some help" and you will get even more takers.  That is the nature of our profession.)  Say to a teacher, "I will give you $1,000 one year from now if your 11 year old students do better on a standardized test 6 months from now," and most will simply look at you like you are nuts.  Salary works, incentives do not.  We all do the best we can do every day.

(The real underlying problem here, however, is basing all of this on high stakes standardized tests.  It remains ludicrous to judge kids, teachers and schools on one standardized test, but that is fodder for another feast.)

The same mindset that supports teacher incentives supports charter schools.  I do not have that mindset.  Charter schools as I use the term here, are state-funded, taxpayer supported, alternative schools that are not based on school or district boundaries.  They are optional schools, schools of choice, meaning that parents can opt to enroll their kids in these schools rather than the resident public school.  By the same token, the charter does not have to take the kids and does not have to keep the kids for the duration of a school year.  They take the same high stakes standardized tests we take, but they do not have to take the kids we have to take, or keep them.  What taxpayers are doing is depleting the funds for public schools by supporting another "public" school that operates under a different set of rules and is held accountable in different ways.

Let's be candid:  the kids who do the best on the high stakes test tend to be more affluent than the kids who do poorly.  That is the consistent conclusion apparent from every analysis of test score outcomes.  The other conclusion that is consistently true is that the schools that spend more money per kid have the highest outcomes.  Got to admit that makes sense.  (If it were based on teachers alone, then all we would have to do is move the teachers from high performing schools to low performing schools and the outcomes would change.  I would argue that moving teachers from high performing schools to low performing schools would likely make the low performing schools more so.) It should come as no surprise that the highest performing schools have two attributes: wealthy kids and/or more money spent per kid.  Charter schools drain both variables of import, that is, kids whose parents earn enough money to be able to provide transportation to and from the charter may enroll in the charter.  There are no bus routes for charter schools.  The very existence of the charter drains money from the public school because we are funded based on enrollment. 

If you want to compare charter schools to public schools using the high stakes outcomes, you might conclude charters do better because they are an alternative to public schools and they do things better.  No way.  (In fact, the studies comparing outcomes have very mixed reviews.  Recent studies tend to indicate that students in public schools are outperforming students in charter schools.)  I argue that the very best teachers teach the kids who are most likely not to do well.  Very bright, affluent kids are going to pass the standardized tests no matter who the teacher is.  (That is not to say that the teacher of wealthy kids does not make a difference.  They do.  But the role of the teacher of wealthy kids is to promote extended success, not just mere passing.)  The one thing charter schools have going for them is parental support.  Clearly, if my kid can get kicked out of your school I am going to do all that I can to promote his or her success, ensure they do their homework, and back teacher expectations.  Elsewise, you will be removed from the charter, and (gasp) returned to public schools.

Perhaps the real answer to these two programs is simply to ensure that all teachers are highly paid and that public schools have choices as well.  Suppose we the public school could ask non-compliant, non-conforming kids to simply leave our system?  Wouldn't that be interesting?

Meanwhile, I do not support incentives or charter schools.  I deeply, deeply support public schools and the professionals that work therein.  I believe public schools are the very best hope for the future of our democracy.  Period.

Hello, Brody!

Welcome to planet earth, my grandson!  Born Friday, 12/2 and weighing 7.2 pounds and 19.25 inches long you are definitely a "keeper."  I have great confidence in your future as you did a great job in choosing your parents, and I will do all that I can to support you as you mature.  There's no telling what life will be like when you graduate from high school in 2029, but I have confidence that between the love of your family and the man you will become, you will be ready.  No excuses, do your homework.  In the meantime, rest and grow.  Becoming verbal, mobile and housebroken are enough to tackle for a while.

(If people stopped having babies I would have to find another career.  Special thanks to my son and daughter-in-law for keeping me and other educators employed.)

Goodbye, Robbie

I was with you really only a handful of times in your 28 years, son of my brother.  I loved you, but you probably have no evidence of that.  You were my brother’s son and I loved you by definition.  I cared about you, your life, your well-being, and know in my heart of hearts there is very little I would not have done for you.  Yes, I feel guilt that I did not do more, did not reach out more, did not pay more attention.  I know now you were wounded and I failed to see the wound.  You were never worthless, you were never without charm and a winning smile, you were never without huge potential, you were never without the possibility of a great life ahead of you, and you were never un-loved.

And now, you will never be here to hear that.  So, I guess I write this for me. 

With God's help I will tend to those you leave behind.  But, I miss you my nephew. 

Goodbye, Robbie.  

R.I.P.

11/24/11

Real Improvement

Debbie and I have lived in the same house for over 12 years now.  That’s a record for us.  And though it is the same house, it is in many ways very different.  I am fascinated by the process that triggers then transforms our home.  It usually happens this way:

I will be summoned into a room of our house where my wife stands looking reflective.  Uh oh, she has had a vision.  She has had a vision of what this room could be.  Debbie begins to describe colors, flooring, furniture, finishing touches, etc., etc.  As her vision is articulated I too see the room in a new way.  The room wherein I have been comfortable, content; the room I could walk through in the dark without collision is now somehow less than it could be.  I am discontent with the current state.  I have seen the vision; in fact, I add to and embellish the vision with my own sense of what the room could be.  We talk about it for a week or two, not doing anything but thinking and sharing.  This for me is the creative tension stage wherein I sense things are going to change, am not sure exactly how they will change or how we will pay for it, but know I am growing more committed to the change and less content with the current state.

Next we start to shop, usually on-line, and begin to compile a list of what we will need to transform the room.  As the bottom line grows, plans adjust.  Perhaps we will do this in stages.  We finalize our shopping list and head out to purchase.  We never have enough resources to do everything we would like to do, but we do not wait for that or we would never do anything.  This is the real commitment stage.  If we are going to buy this stuff we sure as heck are going to do something with it.

We begin the actual transformation by making a mess.  We move out the current stuff, now referred to as the “old stuff” and get down to the bare walls and floor.  As we paint, re-floor, etc., we create even a bigger mess, but the vision of what the room could be keeps us going through the construction stage.  We make mistakes, change our minds, swap this color for that, this texture for that, etc., but we keep going.  After work and on weekends we eagerly tackle the project eventually reaching the point where we know we must finish soon, or declare war, or apply for federal disaster funds.

And then we are done!  We haul off the old stuff.  We clean up, move new stuff in, add the finishing touches and step back and look at our transformed room.  We congratulate each other.  We celebrate.  We invite folks over to see what we have done.  We are proud and pleased, know that it is not perfect, but it is work of our own hands.  One room at a time, inside and outside, over 12 years we have gradually transformed our home.  Once again I am content, I am at peace, and knowingly await another vision.

The process fascinates me because it works.  It begins with a vision and/or a sense of discontent with the current state.  The vision is shared and modified by those who have a sense of commitment and ownership in the outcome.  Once articulated, the vision is acted on.  Old stuff goes away, new stuff heads in.  A mess is made during which time the re-visioned space is really not usable and looks worse.  Commitment to the vision gets us through the mess and construction phase and plans are always modified.  We conclude with a transformation and celebration.

This process would not work if our neighbors came over and criticized our current room and told us we should improve it.  Nor would it work if the city mandated that every room must be transformed by a certain date and time meeting certain standards.  It surely would not work if we did not have a sense of ownership, nor would it work if we had such a strong sense of commitment to the status quo that we were unable to have a vision or feel discontent.  Real home improvement begins with the folks in the inside, not from folks on the outside.  Those inside look outside for ideas, for inspiration, for research, but the motivation comes from inside.  It involves the folks who have a sense of ownership in the place.  It involves real commitment to improvement by people under the same roof.

That’s the part current school reformers do not get.  Real improvement is inside-out, not outside-in.  A memo, a law, a standard, a fiat does not result in inspired improvement but does result in mandated compliance.  No one is excited or inspired by compliance.  How simple it would be for Debbie and I to convene, look at Better Homes and Gardens, and send a letter to our grown children telling them that by September 1 they must transform their homes to meet these new standards and comply with our vision of what their homes should be; and, we are reducing their resources while we are making the requirements.  We could even add sanctions if they did not comply. 

We would never, ever do that. 

So, the next time you hear a candidate, or an elected official, or an educational bureaucrat, or a billionaire discuss reform, mandate improvement, propose new standards, new tests, new outcomes, new processes, new evaluation tools, etc., etc., please stand up and say Poppycock and Balderdash.  That is not how real improvement gets done.  You may want to use language stronger than that if they propose such things and cut funding.

Please join those of us in the schools in our effort to transform and improve via our own visions.  All voices that have a stake in the children of our community are welcome to share.  The better the vision, the better the transformation.

One last thing:  let’s help each other never to be too content with the way things are, too attached to the old stuff and too fearful to throw it away.  That is the path that leads to outside-in reform.

Literacies

Our band, that is our directors and our kids, performed absolutely fantastically at the state marching band contest last week.  I have seen the routine many times, but never with so much enthusiasm, with so much heart.  And the stakes were high.  The 19 best 2A bands in the state were assembled in the Alamodome in San Antonio for a grueling day alternating between adrenaline rush and boredom.  As each band took the field, parents and supporters cheered and hollered.  Edna was very well represented, and our group was more vocal than most waving home made pom-poms and yelling, "Go Big Blue" under the able leadership of our High School Principal.  I am proud, and hope you are too.

On the long drive home from San Antonio I thought about all those kids and their parents.  We did not win state, but for each band student we have won something much more important.

School folks spend a lot of time talking "literacy."  In its most basic form we mean the ability to read, write and comprehend our language.  We want our kids to be literate.  We more recently have begun discussions around the concept of mathematical literacy.  We want our kids to be fluent in math, number sense, problem solving, and operations.  Computer literacy is a reasonably new term and many of our kids come to us now adept in that field.  Foreign language literacy is something we also require to graduate from high school and I lament that I am monolingual.  We require students to take science and social science courses as well, and those literacies become increasingly important in this century when we must continue to advance on the scientific front and we must make wise decisions in our democracy, ever mindful of our history, our sociology, our psychology, our economics and our rational form of government.  We teach all these literacies.

We devote a lot of resources to psycho-motor literacy as well.  Muscle memory and athletic prowess fall in this area, and we staff fully, practice faithfully, and compete strongly.  Perhaps some will argue this is not a literacy, but the ability to read the rules, the plays, know defenses and offenses, keep score, and understand penalties deeply enrich both our participation and observation in this arena.

I would argue there exists at least one other literacy that is equally important.  Fine arts literacy.  We require students to get credits in the fine arts to graduate, and the most gifted in this area migrate to band, choir, art, theatre and dance.  These arts touch the human spirit and the products and performances of these arts define us as a species.  "I don't know art, but I know what I like" is a brag akin to saying, "I don't know the Internet ..., I don't know math ..., I don't know music, ....," etc.  I find all these statements offensive as an educator and as one who is educated.  I know that when archaeologists and historians describe our ancestors they do so in terms of the art, music, and cultures of the people.  It will be the same for us someday, and that worries me.

Music literacy is particularly important to me.  Learning to read music was a blessing for me and I wish that all mastered that skill.  (OK, I like the movie "Sound of Music", especially the scene when Julie Andrews as Maria teaches the Von Trapp kids to sing using Do Re Me.  Even more, I like August Rush, a movie you must see if you have not.  It is to music what the "The Blind Side" is to football.)  I began public school in Oklahoma where 3rd graders began playing instruments.  I played the violin until my family moved to Texas and my elementary school here did not offer such an opportunity.  I was in the band in junior high and choir in high school.  (Yes, I was also in athletics.)  Playing an instrument and/or singing in a choir is something everyone can do.  Real excellence comes from quality coaching and hours of practice, but real enjoyment of the richness of music is almost immediately present once you know the score, as it were.  I am very proud of our elementary music program, our band program, our guitar and keyboarding classes, and wish we could do more.  Listening to music, even singing along, without understanding the structure of music is like hearing the 23rd Psalm and not being able to read it and study it.

As resources get tighter it becomes more and more challenging to maintain the programs we offer across the entire spectrum.  Clearly, we will always offer literacy development in the core subjects.  It is clear that our community wants and expects us to offer psycho-motor literacy programs, so we will do that too.  I will do all that I can to maintain fine arts literacy and hope that you support that as well.  As a nation we can ill afford to graduate a generation of students who are illiterate in any of these areas.

Blind and Mute, Not Deaf

This has been an interesting fall -- I'm talking seasons, not from grace.  I never should have posted "Octoberfesters" as it seems like prophecy now.  I really look forward to November 1. 

So much is going well in our system.  We received a superior achievement on the state's financial integrity system, we got the FEMA grant to build a new gym, we were able to hire everyone we needed to start the school year and got some great new folks, we are working hard on defining what it means to be "actively engaged," a.k.a., ride for the brand, and our audit was clean, our books and finances in great shape, especially considering the year we have had with state funding.  The construction of the new high school is the talk of the town, and our football team, volleyball team and cross-country teams are doing great.  Our band has never looked better or bigger and are bound for area marching contest this coming weekend.  If you have not seen the Silver Spurs perform you have really missed a treat.  Our teachers are implementing a top-of-the-line curriculum and our kids are challenged academically every single day.  Even our cafeteria food is better!  And yet,....

Several of our band members and athletes are now not eligible to participate in their respective UIL events because of grades.  I sat at the Board Meeting last week while angry and frustrated parents complained about girls' atheltics.  (They had some valid points and we are working on that.) The local paper chooses a headline to report on that meeting that makes it sound like irrate parents were the main event.  And the coffee shops are buzzin'.

It is a real challenge to listen to the buzz, whether I am at a Board Meeting or in the grocery store, and remain mute.  It is hard not to fire back, it is hard not to tell the inside story, share the reality vs. the perception of reality that is being hashed and re-hashed and continues to stoke tempers and secrete bile.  I cannot help being blind in one eye, but I choose to remain mute.  I choose to do that because it is the professional thing to do.  It is what I am licensed to do, trained to do, experienced at doing, and because I take my profession seriously.

No educator may discuss the attributes of any student in public.  No educator may discuss the attributes of a fellow educator in public.  Period.  So, I sit blind and mute.  Not deaf. 

What I can say is the following:  Every employee of our system is both certified by the state of Texas and Highly Qualified according the federal government.  Every employee we have ever hired is absolutely the very best, most qualified employee available at the time.  Every teacher in this district is working night and day to promote student academic success.  No teacher in this district wakes up on a given morning and decides to fail a kid just for the fun of it.  Doesn't happen.  Each student failure is a wound to a teacher. I will defend the instructional practices of the teachers in this district, each of whom has been tasked with raising the bar for student performance.  Each complaint about the quality of a given program and the people who staff it is a wound to the people in those programs.  My job is to defend, support and improve our system.  And I must do so, I will do so, without naming names and without disclosing confidential information.

We have a great system.  We have great people working in this system.  We have great kids.  We have great parents.  We are on sound financial footing.  We are on sound academic footing.  We have wonderful extra and co-curricular activities even in times of economic hardship.  We are good and getting better.  My kids graduated from here and I am proud of that.

I am not deaf.  I hear the complaints and attacks. 

I cannot respond.   But, it hurts.

Now, Go Cowboys!  Go Cowgirls!  Go Band!  And, Go Teachers!

First Things First

A dear friend is deciding tonight whether to remove the life support that is keeping her mother alive.  A neighbor is praying that the platelet transfusion her daughter receives from her son will sustain her daughter long enough to have surgery and hopefully survive.  Gadhafi is dead.  There are millions of Americans unemployed, losing their homes.  The population on our planet has hit 7 billion, and the temperature is rising.  We are in a terrible drought, crops and cattle dying, the foundations of buildings moving, cities rationing water.   The wife of one of our coaches gave birth to a healthy baby girl. 

And a group of parents and grandparents storm the Board meeting mad that we do not have enough volleyball coaches and the girls do not play enough games.

We have free public schools!  We educate all kids, including the poor, including girls -- neither of which is universally true on  this planet.  We even have volleyball!  (And football, and basketball, and softball, and baseball, and tennis, and golf, and track, and cross country.)  More than that, we have a fleet of dedicated teachers who struggle mightily to engage students in the content and create an environment for learning the stuff that will benefit them for a season that is longer than this fall.  It will help them the rest of their lives.

Help me keep first things first. 

Octoberfesters

Ah, October.  Raging summer heat in southern Texas has finally subsided and we actually got a little rain.  Still wearing short-sleeved shirts to Friday night football games, but clearly the sun is not baking the last drops of fluid out of all of us.  Seasons change, even here.

The change in seasons always coincides with changes in school climate as well, or so it seems to me.  We end the summer with the beginning of school, teachers pumped, kids excited, expectations for the year are always high, even in a year of budget cuts.  Parents develop routines for getting kids to and from school, kids learn their schedules, teachers, classes, and we begin the annual overindulgence in extra-curricular events. 

And then suddenly, usually right around the first progress reports and the first report cards, the climate changes in the schools, much like it does outside.  We begin the Octoberfesters.  That time of year when wounds happen and they fester.

It is from mid-October to early November that we get our first round of upset parents, frustrated staff, anguished athletes, and everyone appears to be operating on their last raw nerve.  I have more personnel problems and irate parents in October than any other month, though February is a close second.  Here are my theories regarding the onset of the Octoberfesters:

1.  Grades go out.  Suddenly hopes of honor roll and a full season of football are dashed for some.  Parents conclude it must the teacher, the school, something other than their child that is inhibiting the learning.  They get mad.
2.  Staff get their first paycheck of the new year in mid-September and it is never as large as hoped.  Higher insurance premiums, reductions in funding, frozen salaries, etc.  It may suddenly appear that "I am doing all this for how much?"
3.  Angry parents descend on frustrated staff, so staff get more frustrated and parents get more angry.
4.  Kids are tired, staff are tired, people start doing stupid stuff and move from highly motivated, rational professionals, to emotional basket cases.
5.  The football team loses.

Regardless, it happens every year.  Solid pros are aware of it and do more than muddle on, they lead on!  Knowing staff and constituencies are tired it becomes important to find ways to take a break, get some rest, do something fun and keep the main thing the main thing.  Leadership includes the managerial function of problem solving and conflict resolution, so practice that rather than problem creation and conflict initiation.  Take a breath, count to 10.  Public schooling, in my humble opinion, is the most important work in the USA and we have got to do our very best every day.

The Octoberfesters always disappear around the second week in November.  The sun sets sooner and we get inside earlier.  I think folks smell the holiday season coming.  Thanksgiving and Christmas never get here soon enough, but once we sense they are right around the corner, everyone cheers up!  

(Of course by February, as we end winter and head into spring, we will begin the Valentine Day Massacres, but that is another story.)

For now, chin up, lead on, and Happy Octoberfesters!

Invention is the Mother of Necessity

In 1983 the math/computer teacher at the junior high school where I served as an assistant principal came in my office one afternoon and plopped a brand new shiny Apple IIe on my desk.  She set it up, handed me a large floppy piece of black plastic with slots cut out and told me, "Welcome to the computer age, Mr. Wells."  I was intimidated.  I had no idea how to turn the thing on.  I did not understand the funky requests and blinking line on the green screen.  The next day I got a call from the central office and was asked to develop a way to use the Apple IIe to keep discipline records so that all assistant principals in the district could do so.  I booted and soon learned how to program using AppleWorks, and developed a simple data base that included student name, grade, parent name, etc., where I could store my disciplinary decisions.  Soon, I was cranking out form letters to parents and staff using the data base.  All the little index cards I had been keeping were eventually tossed. 

Two years later I talked my boss into buying me a brand new Macintosh.  Wow.  It came with Microsoft's Multiplan, the forerunner of Excel, and Microsoft Word.  I could change fonts!  I was looking at a white screen with black letters. It had a mouse!  Way cool.  The disks evolved from large soft floppy plastic to rigid 3.5 inch disks.  My data grew.  By the time I was a building principal in 1986 I could not imagine working without a computer on my desk.  Steve Jobs invented the computers I used.  His inventions became my necessity.

And that is how I began a journey that has led me to Twitter, Facebook, blogs, texting, etc.  I eventually became Executive Director of Instructional Technology for a large school system of 76,000 kids with 6 high schools.  Steve Jobs' inventions were more than inventions and my necessity, they were my livelihood.

We are well beyond the old Apple vs. DOS wars and well into iPhones, iPads, iPods, iTouch, etc., etc.  Steve Jobs impacted every child that has gone to public school since the mid 1980's either directly or indirectly.  That is a legacy no educator can claim.  What a remarkable man, what a remarkable company, what incredible tools.

RIP, Steve Jobs.  You are missed already.

Gotcha!

We had a tough Cabinet meeting last week.  Not because of anyone around the table -- each of the administrators in EISD is absolutely super.  And not because of the climate -- Demetric brought breakfast, I made coffee, and Richard provided the entertainment!  And not because of any one issue, but a combination of compliance issues.  We're stuck.  I know we are stuck by design, but we remain stuck.

We are subject to both state and federal accountability standards.  We do not want to game the system, but if we don't, we will look terrible.   In fact, we have to really choose which accountability system we want to look good on and forgo the other.  Even doing that, we remain stuck and have no guarantees we will look OK.

The federal system is really beginning to kick our hind quarters.  By 2014 we must show 100% mastery of all kids.  I'm an optimist, and I believe in high expectations, but, 100%?  Really?  And, we must demonstrate this mastery on the state's assessment instrument.  Our new STAAR test will be much tougher than the TAKS test, which was much tougher than TAAS, which was much tougher than TEAMS, which was much tougher than TABS.  Other states use different tests, but most are similar to our TEAMS test way back when.  Not Texas.  In a time of reducing funding we have raised the standards.  Not a good scenario for improving outcomes.  And if that were not enough of a challenge, we now have a new sub-population to worry about:  students designated as "special education."

(First, a moral disclaimer:  I absolutely, totally believe in and support the education of all kids regardless of gender, ethnicity, income, height, weight, zip code or disability.  Every parent of more than one child knows there is no such thing as a "normal" kid.  "Normal" is setting on a dishwasher, not a label for kids.)

In 1975, Congress passed Public Law 94-142, Education of All Handicapped Children, now called the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act, or IDEA.  I started teaching in school year 1973-74 and clearly remember the introduction of this federal legislation.  Frankly, we needed to do something back then.  Kids with physical, mental and learning disabilities were not served well in schools.  We lacked the training, the knowledge and the programs to help them.  Though some of the wealthier districts in Texas at that time had some programs that amounted to full-time child care, most disabled kids either simply stayed at home or were failed until they dropped out.  Schools were not built to be accessible to kids in wheelchairs. PL 94-142 changed all that with requirements to identify and serve special needs kids, and most importantly, provided federal dollars to do so.  New categories of certification emerged like Special Ed Teacher and Diagnostician, and whole new departments emerged in our bureaucracy called Special Services.  New rooms appeared in schools like "Resource", "Adaptive Behavior Units", "Life Skills", and "Severe and Profound."  A new school-within-school was born on every campus in the U.S., complete with staff, kids, rules, routines, and budgets.

For students with severe physical and mental disabilities we provided physical therapy, training in basic skills like cooking, going to the grocery store, washing clothes, or we simply kept feeding tubes cleaned.  Yes, we have nurses, physical therapists, occupational therapists, and speech therapists on the payroll.  We even send a teacher  to the home of some kids.  Students who were functioning fine, but had difficulties learning compared to other students, were labeled "learning disabled," and they were placed in special rooms with a special teacher to be taught math, English, social studies or science depending on their disability and their abilities.  Suddenly, what we had been calling "going to school" became "mainstreamed," that is, regular classes with regular teachers.

By 1985 things pretty well stabilized with this entirely new branch of public education and children who had previously been ignored, or even worse, shunned, were receiving services in our schools and improving their lot in life.  That is about the same time that the high stakes accountability testing movement began in Texas.  We found a fairly simple way to deal with children who had special needs:  we gave them a special test based on their disabilities and their level of performance.  A 5th grade child performing on the 3rd grade level in math and the 5th grade level in reading took a 3rd grade level math test and a 5th grade level reading test.  The new accountability culture had arrived and seemed to be reasonable and schools got better every year preparing all kids to do well on all tests.  (How we did that is another story.)

Enter "No Child Left Behind" in 2001.  This re-authorization of the Elementary and Secondary Education Act under President Bush changed the game at the federal level.  Former Texas Governor Bush took the Texas accountability system to Washington, and by the time Congress was through with it, we had a mess, at least from the Texas point of view.  In Texas, we now had two accountability systems with which to measure our performance: the state system which continued to morph every two years when the state legislature met, and the new federal accountability system implemented under NCLB.  The two did not match.  They were not aligned.  The measure was the same, that is we used the state test whatever we called it that year to collect scores, but the grouping of the scores, the standards for the scores and the expected outcomes of the scores were different for the state system and the federal system.  That got much worse as of 2008 when the state leadership and the federal leadership were political enemies rather than allies.

The NCLB requires us to look at the performance of kids designated "special ed."  As of spring of 2011, so does the state system.  The problem is the federal system expects special ed kids to take on grade level tests.  If more than 2% of your kids take less than grade level tests, or modified tests, all the special ed. kids who take a modified tests above the 2% number are deemed "failures" even if they passed the test.  To do well on the state system, we are statistically encouraged to give kids the modified tests so that we can achieve higher labels, i.e. Recognized or Exemplary.  Large numbers of our special ed. kids take modified tests and do fine, but because we have more than the allowed federal 2%, we get nicked on the federal system  This escalates as the federal percentage of doing well on the test grows each year as we approach 2014 when we must hit 100%!  This year, Edna ISD was "Acceptable" on the state system, and the district and two of our 3 schools were unacceptable on the federal system, or Missed Adequate Yearly Progress - AYP.   And, the state system now counts special ed student performance as well.

The test a special education student takes is decided at the individual student's ARD and is written in his or her IEP.  (These acronyms came into existence in 1975 and are now so embedded in our lexicon that few remember not using them.)  We really want to do what is best for the kids.  We want to push them, but we do not want to set them up for failure either.  We refuse to simply say once 2% or 3% have an IEP that calls for a modified test we will not allow anymore.  That is ridiculous.  By the same token, we must refuse to simply say that if you carry a special education designation you will take a modified test.  That is equally ridiculous.  Regardless, one of the accountability systems, if not both, will be able to say, "Gotcha!"

The real problem, of course, is the arbitrary percentage cut off.  Given that, and the fact that all special needs kids must take a grade-appropriate test, we really feel set up.  Seems that no matter what we do we are caught in a structural Catch 22.  We will not tell a qualifying child that we will not provide services.  We will not assign a test that a student cannot possibly pass.  We will assign an appropriate test for every kid, and if the kid is on grade level in a subject and is receiving regular instruction in a subject, we will expect them, as we do every kid, to pass the test.

And, we will probably miss AYP again and may be accredited warned.  But, we will do what is right by kids.

Life Styles and the Fashion Police

My doctor and my youngest brother, who happens to be a doctor, do not approve of my lifestyle.  I drink too much coffee, smoke, enjoy the occasional adult long-necked beverage, and do not exercise, at least not on purpose.  The good news (for me) is I'm still alive.  The bad news is, they do not approve and I am not going to change in that department.  Of all the vices available today, mine are still legal and socially acceptable, at least in some quarters.  (Though I will admit, when both New Orleans and Paris went smoke free I was taken aback.)

Life styles.  What is acceptable to you may not be acceptable to me.  We have obese kids, and I worry about that, but I do not think we can change that via board policy, handbooks, counting tater tots or PE.  To me, that is a life style issue.  If you want to eat until you are fat, and you can either afford it or have no choice but to acquire via WIC high volume, high fat foods, then so be it.  Your choice.  We have not made obesity illegal, though we are getting close.

How about tattoos?  I don't have any, but people I love do.  Is that OK?

How about females wearing very tight or very low cut tops? Is that OK?  Sure seems to be OK on prime time network TV.  How about pants that are worn so low that both underwear and rear cleavage show.  Is that OK?  How about guys with long hair.  Professional sports allow it.  How about guys with facial hair?  OK with you?  Kids with purple or blue hair?  Feathers?  Piercings?  No underwear?  On and on we go.

The bottom line is we are a public institution and we will enforce community values whatever the community defines those values to be.  If everyone is required by policy to wear jeans, have a burr haircut and drive a pick up truck, then we will enforce that.  If, on the other hand, everyone is required to wear Stacey Adams shoes, a wife-beater undershirt, a long sleeve shirt unbuttoned all the way down, and low rider slacks, we will enforce that.

As a public educator I have been through it all.  In the 70's we enforced boy hair length to the extent that guys wore wigs to school so they could be socially acceptable and not get expelled.  Girls went bra-less, and male administrators had to contact parents.  Been there, done that.  Fashion changes, policy changes.

Dress codes reflect community values.  If the community has a strong sense of what is OK and what is not OK, we (the collective, hired, professional public school administrators) know where to draw the line because our elected Board has said, "Here's the line."  The more diverse the community, the more difficult it is to draw the line.  Life Styles.

It is extremely difficult to be a public servant and have some of the public you serve be OK with what their children wear when they walk out the door, and another whole group of parents not OK with what other children are wearing when they walk out the door.  Dress codes are a no-win deal for school administrators, even after the Board has drawn the line, because any student who shows up in violation of the dress code may have already passed inspection and approval by a parent or guardian.  I more than understand how a parent feels if the school says what their child is wearing is not OK after the parent has already said it is OK.  Hence the school uniform movement and the standardized dress movement .  Let's just legislate what the kids can and can't wear, then we enforce what parents are either unwilling, unable, or are oblivious to enforce.  Or, let's just not have a dress code and let anything be OK.  Many large urban districts have gone to that because the lifestyles in their systems are so diverse.  Worst case scenario is to have a defined policy and ignore it.  I agree with the Board totally on this:  no point in having a policy and not enforcing it.

Our dress code policy is pretty clear and varies as it should by campus.  It is clear because our community is homogeneous enough to have a clear sense of boundaries regarding what is acceptable.  I expect our principals to enforce our dress code.  I also expect them to be reasonable, professional, experienced school administrators and not swing a hammer when a love pat will do. 

We (again the collective, public school administrator we) are not skilled fashion police.  So much of what kids wear and do to their bodies today goes beyond our kin.  It flies beneath our radar, unless something truly outlandish jumps out at us.  Lady Gaga would not get past the front door.

We are also simple-minded.  We have to be to withstand court challenges that will eventually come.  If skirt length is a value, do we exempt cheerleaders?  If facial hair on boys is a value, do we exempt the quarterback?  We only withstand challenges legally when we can demonstrate fair and consistent enforcement.  We can avoid legal challenges and community uprisings, if we attempt to use some wisdom in our application of rules.

Of all the issues facing public schools, this one, at least for me, is way down on the list.  We have standardized testing that labels kids, teachers, schools and school systems for years based on the lowest scores achieved by one small sub-population of students.  We have huge funding issues, both in terms of adequacy and equity.  We have large constituencies that are lobbying for a variety of comprehensive programs that we simply do not have enough resouces to provide.  We have a state and a federal accountability system that will always find something wrong with something we do no matter what we do. 

At the same time, we have huge successes.  Our community supported a bond election for a new high school!  We have been awarded a FEMA grant to build a large unique domed gymnasium that will also serve as a safe room.  We have achieved the highest ratings in the school financial accountability system.  We have shown continued growth in student outcomes.  We have implemented a highly rigourous curriculum across the board.  We are implementing a new class to teach kids building trades while they actually build a house.  We are doing many, many things well and will continue to strive to do so.

And, we will enforce the dress code.

Sideways

There is an old phenomenon that has gained acceleration thanks to social media:  Going sideways.  I have experienced the sideways effect in teacher lounges, Sunday school classes, and at water coolers, where groups of folks sit around and gossip or complain.  I suspect that started eons ago in the first human settlements.  Social media has magnified and multiplied the impact of the rumor.  Some school systems have gone so far to set up a button on their websites to address rumors.  I wonder if those are used?  I wonder if we should have one?

The premise of going sideways is pretty simple.  Let's say I'm mad at a new ruling by the Commissioner of Education that I perceive negatively impacts our school system.  I could blog about it, I could post it on Facebook, I could complain every time I get together with other administrators or the Board, or, I could email the commissioner and let him know what I think.  Or, I could do all of the above.  But, if I am mad at someone and don't tell that someone, then I am going sideways.  I prefer going directly to them.

We have a principal that is really good about this.  If he is distressed or disturbed he immediately lets me know.  If he becomes aware of someone going sideways about him, he directly contacts them to find out what  is going on.  I like that.  I respect that.  Probably scares the bejabbers out of folks, but I think it's healthy.

We went through a couple of mini-crisis here at the beginning of the year that all began with people going sideways.  I never received a phone call, an email, or a visit about the volleyball schedule or the freshmen signs, but I was very aware of the Facebook furor over those issues.  So, I called a meeting and talked about the decisions made.  People came.  We talked.  People left OK.  Perhaps not thrilled, but OK. No one lost their job, no child has experienced retribution.

That's the thing about decisions:  If a decision has to be made chances are there are folks who would like to select option A, and another group who would like option B.  There may be options C, D, etc.  Someone must select an option, and as soon as the selection is made, folks may be disappointed, or even angry.  That is always true, and even more so as money gets tighter and tighter and more and more often the option selected sounds more like "no" than "yes."

Those of us employed by this school system are public servants.  We adhere to a set of principles and standards that are mapped out in policy and law.  We also practice our profession following a set of moral imperatives:  Do no harm.  Welfare of kids first.  Best interest of all with protection of the few.  We do not wake up each morning and develop conspiratorial plans to harm a child, a program, an event.  And, we do not punish kids, parents, staff or community members for either bringing problems to our attention or expressing disagreement with a decision. 

I'm not soliciting problems here.  I am soliciting responses to problems if they develop.  Call.  Write.  Show up if you have a problem.  If you go sideways, it will take longer to find a solution and the solution will be set in an emotional context that makes the solution more complicated. 

I enjoy Facebook and am on it.  I am able to keep in touch with family and friends all over the place by reading their status reports.  I am uncomfortable when it becomes a tool for rumor, hearsay and gossip.  We do not need digital lynch mobs.  We do not need a Two-Facedbook.

My phone number is 361-782-3573.  I office at 1307 W. Gayle, Edna, TX 77957.  My email address is bwells@ednaisd.org.  I make a lot of decisions.  Some may turn out to be not so good.  Let me know straight-ways.  Better for me, better for you, better for our kids.

Thanks.

Rigor

Just left a really great meeting of  the high school campus improvement team.  Teachers and parents assembled to review data outcomes, board goals, and write an improvement plan that makes a difference for our high school students.  I loved it!

They (we) spent a lot of time talking about SAT, ACT, higher academic rigor, etc.  How do we make that happen for our students?  How do we get higher academic achievement?  We have the staff to do it.  We have kids that are capable.  So, why isn't it happening?

Back up a step.  Who is responsible for the learning a student achieves?  Yes, teachers are an important variable.  Yes, parents are an important variable.  Yes, the community and culture are important variables.  But, the bottom line is, unless students understand that their own hard work and effort are part of this equation, it is not going to happen.  Parents can harp, teachers can teach, but only the student can actually learn for the student.

There are a host of strategies we as educators can implement.  There are a host of educational learning environmental components we can provide.  But, achieving excellence in learning is not something a teacher can do by himself/herself.  After all that, it is up to the kid.  We cannot learn for the students.  In fact, if that were the case, looking at our high school faculty, all students would be masters, and knock the top out of the college entrance exams and state standardized tests.  Knowledge and learning do not accidentlally happen by osmosis.  It happens when a student internalizes the learning, works at learning, and learns to learn.

Parents and community can really help.  Value your child's education more than you value whether they start Friday night.  Value your child's education more than you value their wardrobe, their cell phone, their Facebook account, their car, their friends.  Expect them to learn, to work at learning, and to perform.

Help us fight the spread of a non-existent neurosis labeled "senioritis."  High schools are the only institutions on the planet where increased age, increased experienced, and increased knowldge somehow equals decreased performance and expectations.  The senior year should be the culmination of learning, not the year to goof off.  Want a child who is succesful?  Demand their success their senior year.  Demand that they enroll in and excell at the course work that is most challenging.  They are ready. And doing so will make them more ready for all that life is yet to offer.

We can provide the rigor.  We can promote student success, but alone we cannot achieve student success.  Help us. 

AMA and AEA

I took my traditional week off this summer to go with my family to fish.  I love saltwater wade fishing.  There is something about standing in the gulf, the rhythm of waves, the tangy saltwater smell, the hint of watermelon in the air as the specs move through, the dancing of the birds as they virtually hover then dive.  Live shrimp and stringer tied at my waist, I bait and cast, free-shrimping in the current.  It is that moment I love, the moment when the bait is out, I am attached by line, rod and reel, waiting for the possible.  Waves were coming in hard from a strong southwest wind, tearing up the surf and beating me, but the action was good, and I stayed with it, jumping waves, spitting water, feeling the trout suck in the shrimp, setting the hook and reeling.  I was off task and out of town.  Therapy.

A wave caught my floating bait bucket just right and jerked it hard against my belt.  It had happened before.  But this time I felt a terrible pain in my lower back all the way around to the front under my rib cage.  It brought tears to my eyes and my legs turned to rubber.  I turned and headed for the shore as the pain got worse.  Then worse still.  I could barely move, and finally crossed the last bar into the shallow water where I struggled to put one foot in front of another.  I knew I had ruptured something, or ripped something loose, and figured I was going to simply bleed to death internally there on the beach I loved.

My son and wife virtually carried me up from the beach, into his truck, for a frantic rush to the nearest hospital.  I broke out in a sweat and was literally dripping perspiration.  This was the worst pain I had ever experienced and could not believe I remained conscious.  Finally, after running red lights and speeding, my precious son safely delivered me to the emergency room where I was placed in a wheel chair and rolled inside.  Paperwork.  Wallowing in pain, sweating, fix me dear God or let me go!

CT scans, ultrasounds, X-rays and finally the drugs kicked in as the diagnosis came in.  I was passing a kidney stone.  A kidney stone?  I had never had one of those before, and knew I did not want to have another.  Once diagnosed, pills prescribed, and feeling really good from the high dose of whatever it was that they gave me, I was ready to get out of there. 

The doctor said they wanted to keep me overnight.  No way.  I was on vacation and the specs were running.  I couldn’t walk a straight line, I felt drunk with meds, and I was still aware of the masked pain, but I did not want to stay at the hospital.  “OK.” The doctor said.  “We’ll release you AMA.”  Against Medical Advice.  I was not angry at him, I was grateful!  He had eased my pain and named the demon within.  I just wanted out, so I left.  And I spent the final three days of my vacation simply lying around in pain, unable to fish.  (Son and wife got back to the beach and continued to catch fish!)

I knew when I left that the doctor was a skilled professional.  He had been to medical school.  He had served an internship.  He knew a lot more about kidney stones than I did.  And yet, I left.  Not in anger, not with regret or recrimination, I just left, AMA.

Every teacher, every principal, every administrator in this district is a skilled professional.  We have been trained, certified and completed internships.  Many of us have additional degrees and a lot of years of experience, and we have seen children enter kindergarten, matriculate and graduate as young adults.  We all take the equivalent of the Hippocratic Oath to do no harm and serve every child to the best of our professional ability.  We offer professional educator advice, and prescribe for your child according to the best research and the best practice we know.  

Sometimes parents, kids or patrons decide on actions for kids against our advice.  AEA, Against Educator Advice.  It may be a parental decision to hold a child back a grade even though they have performed well, it may be to check a child out school for a family vacation or a pep rally, it may be to withdraw a child to home school them, it may be to drop an academically challenging course, etc.  If we know professionally that this is not what we would recommend, we will tell you.  To not tell you would be unprofessional, so, we will tell you.  Parents of course ultimately make the decisions about their children.  That is fine and that is the way it morally should be and the way it has to be legally.  When we give you our best educational advice, please do not be angry with us.  We are honoring our profession and your child.

I went AMA.  You can go AEA if you choose.  Please know there are reasons we offered our advice.  It would be my hope that you respect us for that.