Would you take a 20K paycut?

How is it possible that I am making LESS than I did last year? Noticeably less?

I stopped doing the year-round pay option, which should have put an extra $200 into each check. Yet my last paycheck was $700 less than it was in June.

Some investigative work on my part uncovered additional budget cuts that I have been oblivious to. I knew that the Florida legislature cut out mentoring stipends (that was 10K). However, I was not aware that the funding has not (and may not ever) come through for the 10K that National Board certified teachers get for teaching in Title I schools. That cost me another 10K. I was also not aware that a third supplement has not been processed, which means that I'm out $2500 until the paperwork is completed.

Mind you, even with all of those generous stipends, I was still making LESS then if I had stayed in the Washington, D.C. area. That's because the step raises in my district (like many in Florida) are typically $200-$400 a year. Between years 1 and 2, the step increase is an insulting $30. It can take years just to get a one thousand dollar raise.

I don't fault the school district. Broward County is one of the highest paying in Florida. It's well-organized and consistently on the cutting edge with curriculum and technology. Teachers who criticize BCPS don't realize the level of corruption and mismanagement that most large urban systems contend with. But the state has got to come through with funding. The hands of district leaders are completely tied.

Instead of paying its teachers consistent, professional wages, Florida has instead provided sporadic bonuses and stipends which it then snatches up as convenient. Last year, teachers were told we would not get paid for mentoring AFTER we had already documented 90 hours of time spent working with new teachers. (A partial payment was later made. This is the equivalent of hiring someone to redo your kitchen for $10,000, waiting until the last appliance is put neatly into place, and then announcing, "Um, yeah. So. I changed my mind. I only have enough money to give you $4,000. But thanks for doing such a great job!")

I don't expect to get paid what I am actually worth as an experienced teacher (which would be 6 figures, no?). But apparently I am expected to take a 20K pay cut without protest, because the money I'm losing is all from grants which were 'subject to legislative funding'. My salary was not high to begin with, considering Florida ranks 50th in the nation in money spent for education. (For those who are not geography buffs, yes, that would be dead last.) And yet the cost of living in South Florida nearly rivals that of Manhattan.

This is profoundly unfair. I've written my congressional representatives and emailed the governor. I've participated in protests and forwarded emails to everyone who even halfway cares. Things are simply not going to improve as long as there are budget shortfalls. The state will continue to justify stealing from its teachers and refuse to compensate them for what they've earned.

Choose the BEST response below:

a) suck it up and do nothing "for the kids" sake
b) blog about the failure of the Florida legislature to prioritize education in hopes of shaming and pressuring the government into funding their promises
c) include my complaints in a letter of resignation
d) both b and c

Did I mention I'd be making nearly $30,000 more in the suburbs of NYC?


Yes, this post has some strong statements. But not nearly as strong as they need to be in order to bring about change. At some point, action has to follow words. Who is willing to take action?

Aw, poop.

It's better than Tag. It's better than Red Light, Green Light. Chasing iguanas on the playground is the perennial favorite for schoolchildren in South Florida. So much so, that "Do Not Chase, Poke At, or Scream at Iguanas and Lizards" is an official rule I mention on the first day of school. They will not hurt you. But it is not safe to touch them, and it is not nice to tease or yell at them. They get scared. Treat them like you would treat a stray cat or dog: watch it from far away and don't interact with it at all. If it comes close to you, move away.

It takes awhile, but the kids eventually get it. "Be respectful of the iguaaaaanaaaaa!!" they chastise each other, watching me out of the corner of their eyes to ensure they are earning brownie points. "Don't chase it in the bushes! It's an aaaanimal! It has feeeelings!"


But today, one iguana stood up for the pack, or whatever social network reptiles have going on. This guy climbed up the stairs outside our classroom and hung out for awhile at the top, surveying his territory. Just chillin'. No where to be.

Dude, get back. I'll jump, I swear I'll do it. Don't try to talk me out of this.

Hah. I'll drop this over the edge, right on your little poop-colored hallway floor below. Even my excrement is camouflaged. Iguanas 1, Schoolchildren 0. See ya for round two tomorrow on the playground. Make sure you check the slide before you go down it, hehe.

Do you have better captions for The Revenge of the Iguanas? Comment! Comment! Comment!

"I'm Starting Not to Hate My Kids."

That's what a friend said to me Saturday night over dinner. I took a bite of beans and rice, then nodded. "Yep, I think that's the most you can hope for sometimes in September."

Maybe hate is too strong of a word. But maybe you don't know her class. Regardless, let's be real about the underlying emotion in my friend's statement. September is a long, hard month compared to June. It's a month in which you have to exert twice as much energy to get half the results. There's no way around it--it takes a few weeks to get used to the new group of kids, to figure out their idiosyncrasies and personalities, and get some FLOW going.

In September, everything is still a comparison to last year's class. The teacher's lounge is filled with weary attempts for validation:

-"Doesn't it seem like my kids last year were so much more WITH IT?"
-"Don't you think the kids last year were higher in math? This group has NO CLUE about place value!"
-"These kids talk, talk, talk, all the time. My kids last year were so much quieter. Hmm. Weren't they?"

It takes awhile to start vibing with a new class. There's a bit of a mourning period for the former group that doesn't conclude neatly at the end of summer. For me, the trigger is explaining routines and procedures. All I can think is, Did I have to repeat myself THIS MANY times last year? Did it really take THIS LONG for my kids to master the art of putting the caps back on their markers? Seriously?

And the answer is, yeah, pretty much. It's just hard to remember that far back, when all you can picture is how smart and independent the kids had become by June. That's perfectly normal. You are not a bad person or a lousy teacher because you haven't 'clicked' yet with your class.

Starting not to dislike your class in September is probably a decent starting point. October usually brings "I like my kids. Or most of them, at least." With any luck, you'll feel genuine affection by November, and you'll be wiping the tears from your eyes as the kids leave for winter break (or at least feeling pretty good about their January return).

Until then, FAKE IT. You are not only a teacher, you are an actor. Your job is to act like things are under control and progressing nicely even when you are exhausted and going over morning work routines for the millionth time. This is for your kids' sake and your own. Tell yourself, "This is going to be a great year. My kids are going to get better behaved and smarter every day. This class is likeable and precious. I will not dread Mondays forever. We will eventually fall into pleasant routines that do not involve constant reminders and redirection. I will survive this day and every day after will be an improvement." Repeat until it happens. :-)

Check out Mrs. Meacham

I love, love, love this site! Mrs. Meacham's presence on the web is longstanding, but she recently redid her site, Jessica Meacham's Classroom Snapshots. I think the layout is amazing--it manages to be evocative of elementary school while still contemporary looking. And the resources themselves are phenomenal (even the FAQs section is a captivating read). I so enjoy a well-designed, easily navigated teacher website. The fact that it's run by an all-around cool chick (who also loves ABC's Lost) is icing on the cake.

So, as it turns out...

..the story is completely different from what I initially thought. My car was recovered in a nearby town, not in Fort Lauderdale, so I've got 2 different police agencies working on the case and the communication has been a little crossed. It seems that my car was not so much 'recovered' (which implies, at least to me, that it was found in a ditch) as it was 'located while being driven by a car thief" (which implies that the driver was caught). The latter was in fact, the case.

Our perp is out on bond right now awaiting formal charges for grand theft auto (I think it's actually called second degree felony theft, but the other way sounds really cool), as well as driving without a license and obstruction of justice. And get this--it's a SHE! Yes, four GIRLS were in my car when the police pulled them over. I won't disclose their relation to my school at this point.

I have been surprised by my own reaction to this new set of facts. At no time did I hold any real hostility toward my car thief, and the only thing that got my blood boiling was the possibility that one of my students or their families was involved. Obviously that would have been a deep, personal stab in the back (I'm racking my brain trying to figure out how to help your kid find the main idea of a paragraph while you're stealing my fricking car?!). Other than that prospect, I harbored no ill will.

But then when I found out my thief's name, I felt an intense and sudden rush of compassion. I don't know who she is. But seeing her name in print made me realize that she is a REAL person. This is a young girl, only 18. Maybe still in high school. She will probably end up serving a year in jail--and possibly several more, depending on the judge's determination and how many other things she's done to destroy her freedom as an American citizen. An entire year of her life wasted, all so she could drive a 2004 Toyota for a day and a half. Can you IMAGINE jeopardizing your future that way?!

I cannot. I did not grow up within a culture of poverty, in which you live for the now and don't plan for the future because you're not certain or even likely to have one. This girl has nothing to live for, no one telling her convincingly, "You are better than this. God has a plan for your life, and it's beyond anything you could ever imagine. He wants so much more for you! YOU have to want so much more for you! No matter what your past, you will grow up and have a family, have a nice place to live, and a good job. You will be a productive member of society. You have a future, and it is not too late for you!"

I know what messages this girl has received instead. I work with female inmates at a correctional facility for juveniles. I'm there every Tuesday night, teaching and talking and counseling and praying with young ladies who have made very, very poor decisions in life. Not one of them comes from a halfway stable home. You cannot imagine the horrific things that have happened to teenage girls who smoke crack, sell their bodies, stab family members, shoot boyfriends, rob banks, and yes, steal cars. These are the same girls who have beautiful smiles and a light still in their eyes, who run to hug me when I enter the room, who tear up whenever they talk about mistakes they made in life 'on the outs' and deeply want to change the damaged person they have been become.

And so I feel a heavy burden for those four girls who were caught with my property. What kind of emotional and spiritual damage would cause them to act from such a profoundly self-serving, self-defeating, ignorant, and limited perspective?

I cringe when I picture what the girl who was charged will likely experience in the coming months. I have been to the Sheriff's North Jail. I have seen the cramped cell blocks in which she'll sleep. I have peered in the tiny 'physical activity' room in which she will walk around in circles for thirty minutes per day, breathing in fresh air through the windows barricaded with barbed wire. This girl will lose access to everything that means anything to her. She will wake at 4 a.m. and eat what's she's served. She will not be allowed the dignity of a razor to shave her legs in the shower or a sharpened pencil to write with when she needs to express her thoughts. This will continue day after day, week after week, month after month after month. She will be trapped within her own mind, with nothing to distract her or dull the pain she feels constantly inside.

She will experience all of that for the satisfaction of having had my car and wallet for 48 hours. That's it. She made the choice to steal because she did not value the sanctity of my property or my safety or my life. And that was an easy choice, because she doesn't value her own. She has no idea that her very life is a miracle and a gift from above. That is what breaks my heart.

Justice is a necessary part of our society, and my car thief needs to serve her time. But I'm interested in far more than having her 'locked up'. This young felon needs to experience rehabilitation, transformation, and find her own worth. I'm praying that she may be 'captured' for that very purpose.

[Insert Witty Title Here]

Yes, I DID go to school on Monday. We were very blessed to be unexpectedly spared from Hurricane Ike at the last minute. But ironically, my day was only slightly less catastrophic than being on the dirty side of a cat 2 storm.

I haven't posted all week because I couldn't figure out how to explain what happened. I still can't, and before my neglected blog lapses into obscurity, I might as well just come out with the short version of the story. So here goes: Someone went into my classroom, found my purse in a cabinet, and stole my wallet and keys. That person then used my keys to drive away in my car. Yes, in broad daylight, with 1,000 bodies roaming around campus. Or perhaps that was the whole problem.

Should I share more details while the case is still under investigation? I'm thinking not. Let's let our little car thief be blindsided by his or her arrest, shall we? My vehicle, fortunately, has been recovered and is in good condition. Remarkably similar to the way I left it on Monday morning in the parking lot, minus an unreasonable amount of crap I kept in the glove box, back seat pockets, and let's be honest, strewn about the car. Ah, my beloved CD collection, which has undoubtedly found its way to a trash can unless the thief is jamming out to praise and worship music.

I'm still processing everything that's happened. Our music teacher fanatically reads my blog (having no life of his own, he is freed up to tease me mercilessly about the personal details I write about mine). He has been anticipating this particular posting: "You HAVE to post about this. Things will never be the same for you after this." I will give him not only the satisfaction of being mentioned in my blog, but also the satisfaction of being right. My experiences are indeed now divided in half: my Teaching Life Prior to Being Violated, and my Teaching Life After Being Violated.

I don't know what my TLABV will be like. I could spend my time thinking about who could have done this. Was it a two-faced staff member? A sneaky student? A devious parent? A homeless person? A space alien who zapped my wallet up into its craft with a beam of white light? I stopped with the paranoia after Monday night. I spend my time at work making sure the kids have proved their answers in the reading passages and regrouped the tens place in the subtraction problems and picked those scraps of paper off the floor (I didn't mean literally throw it away, I meant drop it gently in the trash can). I then spend my time at home monitoring my credit report and reapplying for library and movie rental cards. (Thank goodness Starbucks allows you to transfer your rewards to a new account when the old one is stolen--the thought of forfeiting my iced caramel machiatto credits was heartbreaking.)

In other words, I'm moving on. The whole point of getting up and going to work last Monday morning was to be happy that life as I knew it had not ended because of an unpredictable tragedy that I was powerless to prevent. Wasn't I supposed to be relieved that I had dodged a bullet? As it turns out, there was another bullet coming right behind that one. This is how life works. The irony is not lost on me, and neither is the lesson on awareness, consciousness, and gratitude.

That's about all the profundity I can manage at this point. Keep this situation in your thoughts and prayers. And keep your classroom doors locked. I didn't think it would happen in MY school, either.

Students paid to attend school

Yes, you read correctly, and it's been happening in NY, Chicago, and now DC. I was prepared to hate the idea initially, but found this article which swayed me a bit.

I can tell you from my experience living in DC that something needs to be done to motivate those kids. I lived right across from Cardoza High School and would watch hundreds of kids streaming out in the afternoons. Maybe 10 would have backpacks on or be carrying books. They would fight in the streets and smoke weed right in front of the cops on school property. Education to those kids was a joke, a waste of time, and it was heartbreaking to watch.

Maybe $100 a week to attend classes, behave appropriately, and maintain good grades is not a bad initiative. The article points out that in wealthier areas, parents often reward their children with money for good grades...does this level the playing field a bit? Is it worth taking a chance on?

What do you think?

Fri. afternoon--can't wait to go back to school

No one loves teaching that much. Myself included. But I've barely been home for an hour and I keep thinking how happy I'll be at school on Monday. Because if I get to teach that day, it means that Hurricane Ike missed South Florida.

We had to move equipment away from our classroom windows today, and cover our computers with trash bags. (As if a plastic bag could protect from the type of damage that would result from the roof or windows being blown away.) It's a sad feeling to walk out the door and wonder, when I will I see my kids again? What will this room look like the next time I see it? Was this the last day of school as we know it?

I don't know the answers to those questions. But I do know that if my alarm goes off at 6:55 a.m. on Monday morning, I'll be smiling brightly and ready to go.