The D.O.E. [Screwing me over from beyond]

I'd like to talk for just one second about how the D.O.E. upon receiving my resignation [as per my principal's request] terminated my TransitCheck metrocard. OK yes this sounds reasonable, except for that my resignation is not effective till the first day of school, AND they are still deducting Metrocard money from my paycheck in August. Apparently, in order to get this money back, I have to GO to the D.O.E. and personally request a refund in September [but no earlier], OR, I can fax them or mail them a request [which generally means they will deny receipt for an indefinite period of time. So for the first time in 3 years, I bought a Metrocard at a machine and DAMN they have gotten more expensive! I guess I didn't really think about the cost when it was deducted from my paycheck but $24 for a weekly! Yikes.

The new job teaching Fellows in training: I'm not sure how much I can really talk about it without betraying the confidence of my students/Fellows, but suffice it to say, our conversations about race, class, ability, and gender in and out of the classroom environment have been insightful, productive, and at times, controversial. The Fellows themselves are a diverse bunch, and I am lucky enough to have a group that actually likes each other enough to have meaningful class discussions on sensitive topics without getting all worked up or angry with each other. From what I have heard, this is not the case with all of the classes this summer, so I feel very fortunate.

But frankly, this makes for boring blogging material.

I visited a few of my best and brightest 6th graders at the private summer program we helped them get in to. The visit filled me with mixed feelings of delight and rage. Delight that my favorite kiddies who had worked their butts off this year were getting access to private-quality education [not to dis on public schools, but I'm not sure how much "gets done" in the way of Social Studies and Science in any of the schools I've taught in...] and the quiet, air conditioned, small student to teacher ratio in this beautiful building... it was great! They were so happy to see us and little Kenny [who I fought tooth and nail to get in--there was a question about his academic abilities and I reassured them that whatever he lacked in writing skills he made up for with sheer enthusiasm] is a total favorite among the staff there so that makes me smile.

The rage: when these kids go back to our school in the fall, they are going to be shell-shocked. Granted, they will continue to participate in the program during after-school hours and next summer, but how is it fair that not ALL schools and ALL kids have access to this type of learning environment. Why would any teacher who could teach there ever want to teach in the Bronx at my school? And listening to the women outside pushing their strollers and saying things like "But I don't understand why Mark got us a garden house when I wanted a beach house..." that was just a bit much for me.

There is peace of mind in the fact that after middle school, those children will basically have secured entry to the high school of their choice. Which is more than I can say for the third graders I've left behind [can you tell that I'm feeling the teacher-abandonment-guilt? because I really really am]...

I've been thinking alot about my old third graders who are probably gigantic by now and are entering MIDDLE SCHOOL! I still have their baby-faces on my fridge and while I look the same [save for the increase of bags under my eyes over 3 years of teaching] they are probably a foot taller and all adolescent-ish. I wish I had a way to contact them without going to the school and running the risk of interacting with Principal Darth Vader. But I'm worried about them.

I heard that Adrian [who gave me my first true exposure to violence in the classroom when he threw a chair at another boy who "took his pencil"] is back to his old ways, terrorizing the school with his gruff voice and little chubby cheeks. I miss that kid. Liz and I spent two years trying to make things happen for him, working on his anger management skills, talking him down from temper tantrums, helping him deal with the death of his father, reminding him of the significance of his schoolwork. And all for nothing it seems. Apparently his 5th grade teacher was less than successful with dealing with him, and dismissed him as a "thug."

I say this to remind myself of the importance of bringing inspired, compassionate, and driven classroom teachers into NYC schools [which I can truly say, my class of Fellows fit this description, tenfold]. I'm beginning to think that one of my research projects is going to have to focus on the negative effects of tenure in the public school system [I never thought I'd be so anti-union, but it's happening...] and how we can truly seek out accountability for abusive, neglectful, and ignorant teachers and administrators. I have no idea how to begin, but the more I study educational theory, the more I find myself blaming teachers, despite my knowledge of how hard the job is.