The Lottery

There are some commercials I can watch over and over. I am always partial to ones for Capital Credit Cards with the pillaging, banking Vikings. No matter how many times they get their Viking ship stuck in the drive through banking window- I find it funny.

And then there are commercials that have a punch line that is only a moderate hoot. After the first time the hoot decreases to a ha, and by the tenth time I'm reaching for the remote as soon as I hear the opening strains of the jingle.

The ninth grade English class is on the short story unit. I'm starting to think short stories are a lot like commercials. Very few withstand the over and over and over again test. "Thank you Mam." by Langston Hughes might be one of them. The Lottery by Shirley Jackson is not.

I remember being horrified the first time I got to the end. I remember thinking what was Jackson thinking? It was in the late '60's, I was in junior high school. We had all read “Life Among the Savages,” Jackson's homage to life in the suburbs in the glory years of the second half of the twentieth century. We were all children of the years of station wagons, backyards and prosperity, Years later, I read that Jackson's literary reminisce might just have been a rather rosy version of perhaps a less idealistic “perfect post war family
But I digress. The first time I read the Lottery the ending shocked me

The twentieth time, I read it with the ninth grade last week- I was reaching for the remote. But wait- that doesn't work for short stories.
The co-teacher, the licensed English teacher who chooses the literature we read, suggested it was one of the best stories in English Literature.

I am getting more mature- I didn't disagree publicly
Then he told them there would be a test when they finished reading it.

So for the next ten minutes I watched the blank faces, I listened to the papers shuffle, I smelled nothing not the raw smell of horror in adolescents who have had already had the PE class for the day.

When the teacher suggested it was time for the quiz I suggested we ask just one question.

Raise your hand if you think the Lottery is a good thing.
Every hand rose.

I didn't think they actually read it.

So to borrow the Robert Rule's of Order Terminology (hey I was at the Union Meeting this week) I motivated the question.

I read parts aloud. I had the main teacher read parts aloud.
And then I sent them off to read the ending themselves.

The silence was palpable.
I watched the jaws drop.

And then Cherina, Ms. Flat Affect herself, looked up and said,
“That's just whack- Ms.Teacherfish, that's just whack.

I still don't like the story. I still don't think it stands the test of time.

I still think it tries to universalize the horror of the atrocities of the Holocaust by transposing it into an idealized rural village.

But that's just my opinion.
The ending still packs a punch- if you've never read it before.

And the teacher forces you to get through it.

Thinking on the Plane

I wrote this February 17, on the plane to vacation destination. Then I didn't have internet service for a week:


I understand anxiety. I checked my bag before I left the house. I made sure I had my passport, my cell phone, my wallet, my gambling money (stashed safely away from the rest of the wallet). And then I did it again. And then I checked in the car just in case all those things had been stolen from my bag by bad travel spirits between the house and the car that was parked in the driveway.

But I am on the plane now and everything is still with me. I know I just checked.

Louis had an appointment,today, with the psychologist who was doing the assessment for the vocational office. We looked at the travel directions on the sheets the doctor had sent us. I called the doctor to get even more specific directions, pass the Fed Express office, cross the street where the CVS drugstore is and walk past the pizzeria. We went over it three times. And then I had the bright idea to open Google Earth- we zoomed in, we zoomed out. We looked at the street level views of the store the doctor told us about. We looked at the turrets on the fake regency buildings across from the CVS and then we practiced crossing the street-virtually. Then Louis copied down the web address of Google Earth so he could go home and look at the website.

Louis called from the Doctor's office. “I'm here Ms. Teacherfish.” I got to the office an hour early. I did everything we practiced.

I want to say I breathed a sigh of release. But truth to be told, I got caught up in the busy day and had forgotten all about his appointment. I told him I was glad he was there safe and I was I proud he did it all be himself.

The psychologist got on the phone. He asked me a little about Louis. He wondered if he was anxiety prone. I told the doctor, that sometimes Louis's fixation on things gets on people's nerves, and some people find him very annoying to deal with. But me I like him very much, anxiety and all.

Got to end here. Got to make sure my cell phone, my passport, my wallet are still in my bag. You never know – they could disappear from under the seat in front of me while the plane is in flight.

Lazy Sunday morning.
Michele Rhee documentary on Bloomberg TV. Good for a laugh? or aggravation before the morning coffee?

Surprisingly it was more balanced than I had imagined. There is the part where Geoffry Canada blames the AFT for Mayor Fenty's re-election defeat and Joel Klein gets entirely too much time for someone who has absolutely nothing to say but there are little clips made by people whose names I woefully can't include (due to my terrible memory for names and lack of ambition to get out of bed and find a pencil). One reporter spoke about about spending election day at one school in the middle of DC. The school had made significant improvement during the Rhee years. If anywhere Rhee support should have be earned it was there. Yet the reporter noted, that every parent he interviewed during the election day made getting Rhee out of the role of Chancellor a priority in their voting choice.

But the best line (again unattributed- until I do some research) was: Rich people love Michele Rhee.

I am punished. My seniors didn't do well on those oh-so-important-to-our-data-report Regents Exams. (Forget the impact it has on their lives)

So now I am teaching sixth grade social studies. Ancient Egypt- the city of New York has not one but two of the world's best Ancient Egypt collections, the Metropolitan Museum of Art and the Brooklyn Museum. We should take a trip. We could walk through a real Temple and sketch a real mummy. Talk about your primary sources?

But- wait - no! Not before the state exams. There will be no trips before state exams. Too much test prep to squeeze in.

The New York Times ran an article about the achievement gap widening between rich and poor.

I can tell you why. If you walk through the Ancient Egypt collections at either museum you will see the students from the private schools and the rich suburbs sketching the mummies, walking through the temple. But where are the NYC public school students?

In the classroom.

Doing test prep.

Negative IQ tests and other Rocket Scientist

Faith bent over. i could see the mahogany cheeks poking out from the khaki uniform pants. But what caught my eye was the the words on the belt. I caught IQ test, but then it bent around to the front of her.

"Come over here, Faith, just what does your belt say?"

"I don't know. Teacherfish- there are mad words on it."

And she lifted her shirt slightly and revealed I took an IQ test and the results came back negative.

Moral of the story: If you can't read the words on the belt- you probably shouldn't buy it.

"Pull your shirt down, Faith."

"Okay - Teacherfish.



Another Rocket Scientist

I marched up the four flights.
I took off the headphones, the gloves, the purse and the coat.
I hung up the headphones, the gloves, the purse and the coat.
And locked the locker.
Then I noticed my lock on the desk.
Whose lock is on the locker?
Who knows?
Not mine.
Not one I know the combination to.

I am home in my nice warm house.
But the coat the gloves, headphones and purse are locked safely in school.
Hopefully the custodian will clip the lock tomorrow.

So now whose IQ test is coming back negative?

Updates

Adam is back from suspension. I wrote about Adam before here
Adam had five good years and then Alvin got on his nerves. So he punched him. But first he put on a pair of gloves, because Adam doesn't like to touch other people. And then he knocked Alvin out cold.

Which landed Adam in jail and then at the suspension site. But he returned last week and today I caught him in the hall and asked him how his court date went.

Adam explained the details, he can't get in trouble, he can't talk to Alvin and if he does all that he the record will be sealed when he graduates. I said I was glad it went well.

And then Adam thanked me, and touched my forearm. Not quite a hug but a huge step for someone who can't stand touching or being touched.



Isiah and Miri are finished crying over the Regent Exam failures. The principal assigned them to another teacher for services. I guess I failed too.

They were hanging in my room seventh period anyway. Isiah told me I was the brightest teacher in the school. I don't know why, apparently not the opinion shared by the principal.

Louis finally got an appointment with the vocational office.

Juliss ended up actually passing the social studies exam, with a 55 (special ed students get a 10 point safety net). I suggested she also make an appointment with the vocational office, but the principal was horrified. In her second year as a senior she has barely passed three exams within the safety net range and only has two to go. The principal explained to her she could pass the remaining two and have a real diploma and go to college.

How can I argue that?

New semester starts tomorrow. i got assigned sixth grade social studies.

PS: i was determined to learn how to link to a previous post. It took me 16 tries- but I think I finally figured it out. Why give up after failing the English Regents three times?

What me worry?

Are you laughing?
I rarely stay up anywhere nearly late enough to watch Leno, but thanks to time-delayed-tv and YouTube I can always count on Jaywalking for a few laughs.

I need some laughs.
The Regents results -those- you can't get a high school diploma -tests if you don't pass-are in.

Between that and the stress of a "testing-reorganized" schedule brought to you by the "What me worry?" administration,* there was a lot of crying in my room this week.

I need to bring a new tissue box on Monday.

Ralf passed the English Regents. Last week, I risked my pension by locking him into an empty classroom to finish the practice essay, by himself. When I released him from solitary, he handed me a complete essay- and sheepishly asked me if I could lock him away for the real test.

I could not, but the stringent adherence to testing conditions which includes covering all the bulletin boards with monochromatic paper (because that's an important use of our supply money) was enough. Ralf concentrated and passed.

Isaiah did not. He got four out of the twenty five multiple choice questions correct. Miri did not. She wrote a perfect answer for the short essay about creativity but she substituted the word rely for regard in the interpret the quote essay- managing to squander all those points. Louis and his brother did not. Neither did Dorothee, who told me afterwards she couldn't figure out what envy or anxious meant. (Dorothee came from Haiti 4 years ago.)

And the week didn't get much better.
Louis couldn't answer from which direction does the sun appear to rise. Miri added 3 to $700 when asked what was the cost of the dress after a 3% discount- $703.. Juliss wrote that the similarity between Nelson Mandela and Martin Luther was that they were both African-Americans.

Now does that Jaywalking clip seem so funny?
But if you look carefully- no one looks like a bum in the video. Is it true you can lead a happy productive life without being smarter than a fifth grader?

What drives me to drink, (and you can check out the recycling bin in the driveway if you doubt the veracity of that statement) is that we hold my "poor brain celled deprived" students to a standard that, well just say Jay doesn't hold the tourists in Rockefeller Center to.

And then there's the complication that we insist on being a college preparatory school- since anyone can go to college if we are just good enough teachers. Maybe I could convince Louis that the sun appears to rise in the east if I had him for science rather than the chemistry teacher, maybe Miri doesn't need geometry.

I don't know.
I think the part in the constitution about all men being created equal was written by someone who never tried to teach quadratic equations to learning disabled students.

The Algebra Regents had a tortoise and a hare questions. The tortoise ran a 100 meter race at constant speed of 20 meters per minute. The hare ran 40 meters per minute for 50 meters, took a 3 minute break before completing the final 50 meters at the 40 meter per minute rate. Who won?**

What percentage of Jaywalker contestants could answer that?

In our Race to the Top we leave no tortoises or hare behind.

But my poor kids-
That's another story.

I'm off to buy more tissues.

* I used the "What me worry?" reference on the very smart and very young algebra teacher. She had no idea who Alfred E Newman or Mad Magazine were. "http:en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alfred_E._Neuman"

** The tortoise won. At 20m/pm it took him 5 minutes to complete the race. The hare covered the first 50 meters in 1.25 minutes rested for 3 minutes then covered the last 50 meters in 1.25 minutes. for a total of 5.50 minutes.

Sunrise, Sunset

Here's the thing about this time of year. When I leave home in the morning -it's dark out. And when I return it's dark. Daylight happens while I'm stuck inside.

Yesterday was the last day of the first semester. My back hurt. It was cold. I took the closer bus and when I changed for the second one, Elio was sitting at the very back. Elio is from the community of students who immigrated here from English speaking countries in the Caribbean and Central America. The ones who show all the features of an ESL student, weak educational background, lack of vocabulary that matches school success and then general appearance of being adrift in a school system which deems them ineligible for any special services since they are Native English speakers. Yet Elio is dedicated to success.

We wrote memoirs in the beginning of the semester and Elio after several redirections wrote about the time he was a hero because he caught a mouse and removed it from his baby sister's room. And the story ended with his father coming home and saying he was proud of him.

Like me, Elio shlepps across the borough on two buses, to get to school on time. And what's his reward?

I wobbled to the back of the bus, sat down next to him and went over the math test before the sun rose.

Elio didn't complain, he was happy for the help. He got the highest score on the math test. He makes his father proud.


Today the January Regents week began. The "raise the bar" set of exams that stands between our high school seniors and a high school diploma. The school custodian, was the only one left on the floor as I locked up the Regents at 6:30. He pointed out that when he graduated high school passing the Regents was optional. I have no idea if he could pass algebra or write a persuasive essay. I know he earns his paycheck. I know we really need him.

But since the custodian graduated, NCLB has "raised the bar", we expect everyone to be college material and I stood in the classroom and watched the sun set as my struggling seniors sat and wrote and wrote and wrote.

Ralf, Isiah, Miri, Louis and his brother filled the essay books with everything they knew or thought they knew about Of Mice and Men, Macbeth and The Bluest Eye. Six hours they stayed in that room. Did they pass?
Maybe
Maybe not.


But they make me proud.