Moving On
Two days before the holiday break, they called twelve teachers to a secret meeting out in one of the portable classrooms. When we arrived in the room, they were waiting for us with a large map of the school, including the new addition, drawn on the board and the news that we twelve would be moving into that new addition very soon. Probably before the end of the semester. And we needed to start getting ready: collecting boxes and packing them, taking down posters, cleaning out cabinets. The time was soon, they said.
Well, here it is four weeks later and two days before the beginning of a new semester -- a perfect time to change classrooms because most students will have a new schedule anyway and most of us have completely stripped our rooms and begun moving things to the new addition already -- and they are telling us that we still can't move. Why? They don't have an acceptable answer for that question, and none of them dare to ask it of their superiors. If you walk through the new addition on any given school day, you will see these things: twelve brand new classrooms (all empty), three new offices (equally empty), one stretch of the hallway in which some small wall tiles are still being installed and one man painstakingly gluing them into place. You will not see any students or teachers. No learning is going in in this part of the school despite the fact that it has been essentially finished for three weeks. The district is paying to heat the new addition, so it is toasty warm even on the coldest days. (They will not, however, allow us any air conditioning even on those 90-degree May afternoons.) The lighting works and is frequently on to aid the man installing the tiles. The bathrooms are functional. (I had a few students test them just to be sure.) And as of last week, all the computer jacks are "hot," meaning that we can plug in our computers and do all the things we would do in our old, empty, sad-looking, brick cells of classrooms. But we still can't move because the officials who make these decisions (all people who never go near a classroom or a student if they can avoid it) still have to "coordinate some things" and "organize logistics." Consequently, the students and teachers who have been ordered to move will remain in limbo, waiting for someone high enough up the ladder of insane bureaucracy to sign his/her name on the dotted line to make everything "official."
Here's why this should make you mad: This is your parents' money (in the form of tax dollars) being spent to build, heat, light, wire, plumb, and landscape this new addition. The person ultimately responsible for this delay will never have to come in it or meet any of you, so s/he doesn't really care how long it takes for this transition to occur. Your teachers, on the other hand, who see you every day and in whose rooms you have to spend many hours, are greatly inconvenienced. The students are the ultimate victims of the delay because teachers can't be as effective when they are expected to be ready to move for a month but can't actually move until some arbitrary paper is signed by someone who doesn't know any of us. The great irony of this is that the district model of education puts students right at the center of everything. In theory, everything that happens in this district is to support student learning. In reality, few decisions are actually made with students in mind. This new addition to the building is a perfect example. If it were truly designed to serve you, the students, we would be in it when class starts on Tuesday. Those really being served here are the paper pushers and businessmen who sign contracts and spend your parents' money. And rather than hurry to finish whatever final touches may be left, all of which could be completed after we move in, they will take their own sweet time and make us wait.
I realize that most of you aren't particularly bothered by any of this because it doesn't affect you personally more than a couple times a day, but I do think it would be good to take a look at the philosophy that is actually at work here because it is a reflection of a philosophy that is ruining not only public education, but also many institutions meant to serve the people. Ask yourself: Why is it that the people farthest from the action always seem to be the ones making the decisions about how that action is carried out? Why is it that some district administrator who will probably never actually see students in these new classrooms gets to determine when the classrooms are "ready"? Why is it that the faceless school board, none of whom have been in school in about 40 years, get to decide what is appropriate for you to learn? Why do rich guys in big offices, who couldn't hit a baseball off a tee and who don't know the first thing about how to motivate players, tell the coach how to do his job? Why do politicians who have never experienced military combat get to decide how long our ground forces stay in Iraq before they rotate home?
We live in a world where those rich enough to own everything, lucky enough to be appointed to positions of power, or incompetent enough to be put in places where they can do the least damage make all the decisions that affect you. And that should bother you. Why do the people who make the least difference in the actual functioning of an institution have the most powerful voices? Let's consider this in school terms:
If the students do not show up for school every day, none of the principals, teachers, secretaries, office aids, police officers, reading specialists, counselors, or cooks who work there would have jobs. There would be no need for any of them. A school cannot function without students. But let's assume the students continue to show up.
If a teacher does not show up for school, what happens? Thirty students stand in the hall and make noise until some other teacher notices and calls one of the secretaries in the office. A custodian comes to open the door while the secretary begins searching for someone to cover the class until the real teacher arrives or until a substitute can be found. Students usually don't learn much on days like that (which is why they enjoy such days so much), and many people besides the students are inconvenienced. If all the teachers don't show up, the students must go home. A school cannot function without teachers. But let's assume all the teachers show up.
If a school secretary doesn't show up, there is no one to open and run the office. Students needing to pay fines, call home, sign in, sign out, or talk to an administrator are left in the commons waiting. Parents who need to pick up students, pay for P.E. uniforms, talk to administrators are waiting too. Anyone calling the school is unable to get through. The business of the school soon grinds to a halt with no school secretary at work. A school cannot function without a secretary. But let's assume the secretary does show up.
If a school custodian doesn't show up, no one gets into the building because all the doors are locked. People slip on the ice and get hurt. The toilets don't flush. Flickering light bulbs never get replaced. The halls are filthy. The school quickly becomes a dangerous place to be with no custodians on duty. A school cannot function without a custodian. But let's assume the custodian does show up.
If a school counselor doesn't show up, any student who needs a schedule change or has an SEOP will be left waiting: a minor inconvenience for a small number of students, but still an inconvenience. A school can still function for a period of time without a counselor. But let's assume the counselor shows up.
If a principal doesn't show up, no one really notices at first because the principal's absence does not inconvenience anyone. Students are still safely in the classrooms learning. The business of the office is still being taken care of, and the school runs smoothly. A school can function for a long period of time without a principal. But let's assume the principal does show up.
If a district administrator doesn't show up, maybe the other district administrators notice, but no students are bothered or even aware of it. A school can function without district administrators.
If the school board doesn't meet, no one but the district administrators would likely know. Whether the school board meets or not, schools still function.
Given this common knowledge, why is it that the school board, whose absence would go unnoticed by anyone in a school, must approve all the decisions about what happens in those schools? Why does a superintendent, who makes more money than anyone else in the school district and who seldom comes in contact with any students, have the authority to determine what those students should have to learn and how teachers should have to teach? Why does a principal, whose absence is only vaguely noticed by students and teachers, have the authority to make students kneel before her so clothing measurements can be taken to determine if a dress code violation is in progress? Why does a counselor, whose absence is felt only by those with which she has appointments, have total control of the scheduling of classes and students? Why is the custodian, whose very job is to maintain the physical well being of the school, not given a voice when it comes to pop and candy machines that clutter the halls he will have to clean up? Why is the school secretary, whose presence is essential to all school business, not allowed to run the office as she sees fit? Why are teachers, who come in contact with students every day and who know better what those students really need to succeed than anyone else, given no voice at all in how schools function? Finally, why are students, without whom there would be no schools, treated like cattle, hearded into the meat packing plant of public education for slaughter -- where they are injected with all the right chemicals and beliefs, ground up into a fine norm, and squeezed out after twelve years ready to be cooked and consumed by the world at large -- given no voice whatsoever in how they are educated?
Well, here it is four weeks later and two days before the beginning of a new semester -- a perfect time to change classrooms because most students will have a new schedule anyway and most of us have completely stripped our rooms and begun moving things to the new addition already -- and they are telling us that we still can't move. Why? They don't have an acceptable answer for that question, and none of them dare to ask it of their superiors. If you walk through the new addition on any given school day, you will see these things: twelve brand new classrooms (all empty), three new offices (equally empty), one stretch of the hallway in which some small wall tiles are still being installed and one man painstakingly gluing them into place. You will not see any students or teachers. No learning is going in in this part of the school despite the fact that it has been essentially finished for three weeks. The district is paying to heat the new addition, so it is toasty warm even on the coldest days. (They will not, however, allow us any air conditioning even on those 90-degree May afternoons.) The lighting works and is frequently on to aid the man installing the tiles. The bathrooms are functional. (I had a few students test them just to be sure.) And as of last week, all the computer jacks are "hot," meaning that we can plug in our computers and do all the things we would do in our old, empty, sad-looking, brick cells of classrooms. But we still can't move because the officials who make these decisions (all people who never go near a classroom or a student if they can avoid it) still have to "coordinate some things" and "organize logistics." Consequently, the students and teachers who have been ordered to move will remain in limbo, waiting for someone high enough up the ladder of insane bureaucracy to sign his/her name on the dotted line to make everything "official."
Here's why this should make you mad: This is your parents' money (in the form of tax dollars) being spent to build, heat, light, wire, plumb, and landscape this new addition. The person ultimately responsible for this delay will never have to come in it or meet any of you, so s/he doesn't really care how long it takes for this transition to occur. Your teachers, on the other hand, who see you every day and in whose rooms you have to spend many hours, are greatly inconvenienced. The students are the ultimate victims of the delay because teachers can't be as effective when they are expected to be ready to move for a month but can't actually move until some arbitrary paper is signed by someone who doesn't know any of us. The great irony of this is that the district model of education puts students right at the center of everything. In theory, everything that happens in this district is to support student learning. In reality, few decisions are actually made with students in mind. This new addition to the building is a perfect example. If it were truly designed to serve you, the students, we would be in it when class starts on Tuesday. Those really being served here are the paper pushers and businessmen who sign contracts and spend your parents' money. And rather than hurry to finish whatever final touches may be left, all of which could be completed after we move in, they will take their own sweet time and make us wait.
I realize that most of you aren't particularly bothered by any of this because it doesn't affect you personally more than a couple times a day, but I do think it would be good to take a look at the philosophy that is actually at work here because it is a reflection of a philosophy that is ruining not only public education, but also many institutions meant to serve the people. Ask yourself: Why is it that the people farthest from the action always seem to be the ones making the decisions about how that action is carried out? Why is it that some district administrator who will probably never actually see students in these new classrooms gets to determine when the classrooms are "ready"? Why is it that the faceless school board, none of whom have been in school in about 40 years, get to decide what is appropriate for you to learn? Why do rich guys in big offices, who couldn't hit a baseball off a tee and who don't know the first thing about how to motivate players, tell the coach how to do his job? Why do politicians who have never experienced military combat get to decide how long our ground forces stay in Iraq before they rotate home?
We live in a world where those rich enough to own everything, lucky enough to be appointed to positions of power, or incompetent enough to be put in places where they can do the least damage make all the decisions that affect you. And that should bother you. Why do the people who make the least difference in the actual functioning of an institution have the most powerful voices? Let's consider this in school terms:
If the students do not show up for school every day, none of the principals, teachers, secretaries, office aids, police officers, reading specialists, counselors, or cooks who work there would have jobs. There would be no need for any of them. A school cannot function without students. But let's assume the students continue to show up.
If a teacher does not show up for school, what happens? Thirty students stand in the hall and make noise until some other teacher notices and calls one of the secretaries in the office. A custodian comes to open the door while the secretary begins searching for someone to cover the class until the real teacher arrives or until a substitute can be found. Students usually don't learn much on days like that (which is why they enjoy such days so much), and many people besides the students are inconvenienced. If all the teachers don't show up, the students must go home. A school cannot function without teachers. But let's assume all the teachers show up.
If a school secretary doesn't show up, there is no one to open and run the office. Students needing to pay fines, call home, sign in, sign out, or talk to an administrator are left in the commons waiting. Parents who need to pick up students, pay for P.E. uniforms, talk to administrators are waiting too. Anyone calling the school is unable to get through. The business of the school soon grinds to a halt with no school secretary at work. A school cannot function without a secretary. But let's assume the secretary does show up.
If a school custodian doesn't show up, no one gets into the building because all the doors are locked. People slip on the ice and get hurt. The toilets don't flush. Flickering light bulbs never get replaced. The halls are filthy. The school quickly becomes a dangerous place to be with no custodians on duty. A school cannot function without a custodian. But let's assume the custodian does show up.
If a school counselor doesn't show up, any student who needs a schedule change or has an SEOP will be left waiting: a minor inconvenience for a small number of students, but still an inconvenience. A school can still function for a period of time without a counselor. But let's assume the counselor shows up.
If a principal doesn't show up, no one really notices at first because the principal's absence does not inconvenience anyone. Students are still safely in the classrooms learning. The business of the office is still being taken care of, and the school runs smoothly. A school can function for a long period of time without a principal. But let's assume the principal does show up.
If a district administrator doesn't show up, maybe the other district administrators notice, but no students are bothered or even aware of it. A school can function without district administrators.
If the school board doesn't meet, no one but the district administrators would likely know. Whether the school board meets or not, schools still function.
Given this common knowledge, why is it that the school board, whose absence would go unnoticed by anyone in a school, must approve all the decisions about what happens in those schools? Why does a superintendent, who makes more money than anyone else in the school district and who seldom comes in contact with any students, have the authority to determine what those students should have to learn and how teachers should have to teach? Why does a principal, whose absence is only vaguely noticed by students and teachers, have the authority to make students kneel before her so clothing measurements can be taken to determine if a dress code violation is in progress? Why does a counselor, whose absence is felt only by those with which she has appointments, have total control of the scheduling of classes and students? Why is the custodian, whose very job is to maintain the physical well being of the school, not given a voice when it comes to pop and candy machines that clutter the halls he will have to clean up? Why is the school secretary, whose presence is essential to all school business, not allowed to run the office as she sees fit? Why are teachers, who come in contact with students every day and who know better what those students really need to succeed than anyone else, given no voice at all in how schools function? Finally, why are students, without whom there would be no schools, treated like cattle, hearded into the meat packing plant of public education for slaughter -- where they are injected with all the right chemicals and beliefs, ground up into a fine norm, and squeezed out after twelve years ready to be cooked and consumed by the world at large -- given no voice whatsoever in how they are educated?
posted by MRT at 7:16 AM
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