A Fine Line

Dads get shafted. For the past few days in many classrooms around the country, children have been working on Mother’s Day presents. Kids are being prodded to think of all the wonderful things their mothers do for them besides “making food“. I think elementary teachers throughout the years have painted themselves in corners and are now the default gift and centerpiece providers for all American households. I would like to know where this started, but since that first turkey went home there has been year after year of stuffed paper, traced hand or paper bag versions of birds to plop on the Thanksgiving table. One holiday taken care of. Around winter break you’ll see classroom made art pieces going home to celebrate the birthday of winter apparently. Lots of snowmen, mittens and fir trees that with a few hands-full of tinsel would represent, well you know. Another holiday covered and we’re not even to the new year. We make sure that children have gifts for parents, holiday decorations for the house and whoever invented Grandparents’ Day got us to have children cheer up their one day as well. Check, check, check.

I’ve tried to stay out of the gift providing business, but the pressure is daunting. You see that everyone else has had their classes making stuff and you wonder if your children will be the only ones on the block who didn’t get to carry anything home made of bags, sticks, sticky tape and construction paper. You wonder if they are taking a hit to psyche, or at some point will come back with a handgun, point it at you and ask, “WHY DIDN'T WE EVER MAKE DANCING LEPRECHAUNS?”

I think holidays can be taken care of at home. Mother’s Day is a great chance for Dad to meet with the kids, talk about the virtues possessed by his wife, decide what she might like and lead the children to make or purchase it. Older children can be encouraged to write or make something at home in their rooms. If high school kids can rig up bombs without parents knowing it, I think they can sneak in art supplies, paper and writing implements.

If we’re not careful, December will be devoted to dads as we celebrate Half Father's Day. We’ll provide gifts, and do it the way we do for kids with summer birthdays. It would catch on eventually. No Father Left Behind. But in what other profession do bosses feel obligated to provide supplies, ideas and time for employees to make anniversary gifts, Valentine cards or dinner party place settings for their families? This is one of those areas, like pajama day, where it’s hard to think of teaching as a profession after spending couple weeks making paper mache horns of plenty filled with things kids think they should be thankful for.

I left this piece for a couple days and came back to bring it to an end. In that time, I started noticing all the things my daughter brought home from school for me. There is the coiled clay vase with her fingerprints all over it, the paper flowers, and the one I’ve had on my walls for years; the portrait of me with circle eyeballs sprouting lashes out of the top, the U mouth with horizontal lines ending each end, and the beautiful L nose with two dots inside. “I Love You” it read. That picture has pulled me out of many a dark day. I’ve reached the whole of my ambivalence. To the teacher who helped her make it, I’d like to say thank you and

Happy Mother’s Day.

It is a perfect irony that this year’s high school production is Beauty and the Beast. I saw a preview and it was spectacular. The sets, costumes, pit orchestra, lighting and everything else that contributed to this bit of magic were top notch. Seemed as though they did not cut corners on any part of it. There was an extended stage, excellent sound equipment and yards of gorgeous velvet red curtain. This school was able to provide everything the parents of these young, talented people could ever wish for.

As I was watching these beautiful kids performing a part of their lives they will never forget, I began to get angry. It was an extremely uncomfortable feeling to be watching the best after hearing the worst the day before. The day before I found out about some of the repercussions of this year’s budget. While the candlestick was talking and the teapot singing I was sitting there thinking about how we could possibly work things so we wouldn’t have to lose any staff members, or have to split specialists who find themselves alternating schools, work spaces and student bodies every other day.

As I saw this self-confident cast and crew doing what they love, I looked down the row at my students. There was one who goes to a reading assistant daily for much needed one on one instruction. There was another student who will no doubt qualify for special education next year. I wondered if all the work to diagnose him will be worth it if he only ends up in a program with staff stretched and conscientiously trying to provide what they could before budget cuts began.

The singing just flowed over the filled auditorium. I can only imagine the amount of rehearsal time it took. Many extra hours go into preparing for a production like this. Gallons of paint are purchased to be spread on sets long into the evening. The professionally made costumes must have racked up hours of precision work. I actually found myself distracted by thought, wondering how much extra pay the staff members got to work on this thing and trying to figure out if added up, it would maybe cover the cost of kindergarten aides or a full time reading specialist for the five kids I know will need one next year.

The beauty in experiencing our children performing Beauty and the Beast was somewhat offset by the beast of the upcoming budget. What do we cut? Do we cut teachers and leave those who remain with higher class sizes? Do we cut assistants we have depended on to provide the precious extra teaching time some children require to feel even part of the success the cast must have felt at performance end. Do we cut art, music, p.e. or do we spread them out so thinly that their curricula represents only a best case scenario version to which we can aspire, but they become the commandments known but not practical.

Teachers, parents and administrators love tradition if their schools have histories of excellence. Traditions feel safe and reliable. Cherished or habitually continued events like this cushion the falls that other changes create. Once there was a tradition of opportunity and budgets for all kinds of stuff: gifted and talented teachers with assistants, full time reading specialists in each building, full time art instruction, science lab teachers, and unlocked supply cabinets. None of this exists anymore. We need to look at the situation we really have, and not kid ourselves into assuming we can keep things the way they always were. We have to reevaluate and then adjust our goals accordingly. There will have to be fewer of them, that part is clear. While standards shouldn‘t be lowered, the number of things going on will have to.

I am impressed by the achievements of the students in this production. I know where they learned all of this. I know they got their start in the elementary schools, where music lessons are free of charge given by top rate teacher/musicians no matter the socio economic status of the families.

The complete feeling of joy and pride I feel as I watch these young people has been contaminated this year, sabotaged by this recurring metaphorical question; What will one child have to miss so that another can dance with a teapot?

I was talking with a former student the other day. He is now in middle school and has a list of complaints common to young teenagers. To many of them I responded, “Just man up and do it”, but after he left, I did a lot of thinking about one issue. He told me that if work was late, the grade on it would drop one level for every day. If he did A work, but handed it in three days late, the A work would become D work by virtue of its lateness only.

It seems to me these are two different issues. If the idea of homework is for students to get extra practice, does it matter if it is in on time? If it does, then have a separate marking column for “Gets work in on time” and give them an unsatisfactory grade. If the work is excellent, it is excellent. Seems old thinking to blend the two categories in retaliation. If a student does homework flawlessly, is there even reason for assigning it? If you know very well that certain students copy others’ homework consistently, does prompt return of assignments mean anything anyway? The whole issue of homework is frustrating for everyone involved. It is annoying for teachers when we make copies for students, hand them out, explain the process and find the next day seven kids didn’t do it. One lost it, one swears they never got it, one says he was too busy and the rest were helped by parents. None of these instances can be graded on non-sliding scales any more than middle and high school kids who just copy from one another can.

We have made deadlines the focus, instead of the supposed good to come from the homework experience. Clearly, parents have different attitudes about homework. In some families, it is the spoiler of every evening, every weekend trip, every family gathering, every dinner, anything hoped for between six and 10 pm. Other parents hold it sacred and believe that there is something intrinsically good about it, that it has power to instill understanding in a child where there wasn’t understanding a few hours ago in class. Some think that three hours of homework must be better than half an hour because more is better, right? Some parents think it’s stupid. I must admit there were many instances in my child’s past when I was one of those.

Some people like their children having homework to do because it ties them up long enough for dinner to be prepared, bills to be paid, email checked and so forth. I get that. For that kind of thing, however, there are plenty of books, websites and educational materials out there that parents can stockpile if they want.

There is nothing magical about a worksheet just because it comes from school. Some things just don’t change that much like counting money, measuring, odd/even, and basic skills. Working on things online has other benefits, too. Homework sheets generate a lot of paper.

My personal belief is that a survey should be done at the beginning of the year to see if parents even want homework for their child. It is clear from the return rate by some that it is just not a priority, and that’s fine. Families who have loaded schedules may choose their child not to have an additional daily obligation. Thanks for telling us! Then we won’t have to make copies, send it home, check it and keep track of whether it was returned or not. Families who want homework as a matter of course, check that box and we will send it home and follow through. Families who just want to do more project related or non-skill and drill type homework will be given those assignments as they come up throughout the year.

In elementary school, particularly in Early Childhood (K-3) I have not found it to be worth the hassle. It has never made the difference between getting and not getting it. I generally give it because we are expected to and we are told that parents like it. There are positives, of course. It does keep the parents informed as to how their children think, where the strengths and weaknesses are and more simple things like can s/he write numbers and letters correctly, use punctuation, etc. but if parents aren’t sitting with children while they do homework they don’t know the process used anyway. If they don’t look at the homework as it is being done, they won’t notice numbers are being made from the bottom or backwards. If they do notice it, they will help the child make corrections but until children absorb it developmentally and corrections are made because of new understandings, it’s just cosmetic.

It would be perhaps a better use of time for children to share in dinner preparation, cleaning, putting things away and taking some responsibilities around the house. Some children, when we give them classroom jobs, react as though they’ve never had to do chores or make decisions about how best to do them; and people taut the importance of real world education. Many, many kids don’t know how to wash, dry and put dishes away, clean up after themselves, fold things, tie a shoe, zip, button, wet a sponge and wipe a table. Amazing it is how many students tell us they have no chores to do at home. Ever. Let's put the home in homework, breathe a big sigh of relief, and start making family work charts for spring cleaning.

I can hear the children applauding already.

“My Child Says He’s Bored.” Truth be told this is one line that makes me roll my eyes. There should be no way a child is bored. Pensive, maybe. Relaxed, sure. But bored, no. This is a case where parents have an assumed definition that they have created for themselves over time. Children learn that telling their parents they are bored gets a reaction, lots of questions and possibly a trip to the principal. They get attention. If children only knew the power of the “I’m bored at school” statement. After the dust dies down, the principal has been contacted, teachers have been put on notice that they’d better ratchet it up a notch; the child is left in his own soup. Now he has more math problems, an extra book, harder questions to answer in every subject, the expectation that he’ll work on independent long term projects and no time to just breathe. I’ve seen this so many times. Parents complain. Teachers do what they’ve been asked to. Child is miserable and resistant and then the once big deal is no deal within about 6 weeks. Hornets nest calm and quiet.

When a child says to me that he is bored, I ask him what bored means to him. I don’t assume we share definitions. He usually repeats the statement, shrugs, says work is too easy or too dumb. Sometimes boring means that work is too difficult and he’s embarrassed to admit it. Sometimes boring means he just doesn’t want to do it. Sometimes it means that he doesn’t like using a dictionary when he’s writing a story, sometimes it means he thinks he knows everything already. Sometimes it means that he wants to sit next to his friend he was just moved away from. Defining “Bored” in child English is a crucial first step which parents often neglect before snapping into action.

Secondly, there seems to be an assumption that bored is a bad thing. The times we do some of our best thinking are times kids may describe as boring. Sitting on a beach wondering why there are so many colors of water, watching an ant pull twice its weight across the sand, watching interactions between people, looking for stones, shells, answers to why you just got dumped. We parents need to change the vocabulary a bit and we can change the gestalt. When a child declares boredom, get excited and tell your child that is a signal from your brain that it is time to think about or do something new. Watch something closely, wonder about something unanswerable. Boredom is a sign that your child has not developed intellectually enough to make use of that space in activity. We all know adults like that, too. Adults who are very uncomfortable without their children or spouse around forcing them to some reactive or obligatory action, people close to retirement who have no idea what they would do if they didn’t have work to go to. Bored means we’re not seeing the possibilities.

We have created children who are uncomfortable and “bored” if they are not told the next thing to do the minute after the one before has been accomplished. They take their leads from adults who keep checking off endless lists of things they think their kids should learn, memorize, perform, accomplish or master. Teachers are forced to give those students more and harder work to do after they have met standards acceptable and developmentally appropriate. It’s not enough that a child is doing work extremely well; they have to be given work so hard that the feeling of mastery will forever be just one reach ahead of them. Some people may think it’s good for children to feel incompetent. I don’t know. It sure doesn’t do much for adults and it hasn’t been my conclusion after over thirty years of teaching. I find children at their finest, most exuberant and most excited when confidence can be worn like a soft, comforting garment.

If your child comes to you and says he’s bored, give him a smile and tell him how lucky he is to have a mind that is finally unoccupied.

If whoever thought up Secretaries’ Week really wants to do a service to our secretaries, I have some ideas better than the ones Hallmark and www.flowers.com have come up with. These are ideas that address the daily pains in the feet, hands, brains and butt. It’s funny with elementary school secretaries because this “holiday” is usually around Earth Day. The irony of 640 kids making cards out of folded paper from the copy room and tissue paper flowers may get lost in the love. Maybe next year we can save up all the memos they’ve had to type for the past 9 months and make bouquets out of them. They can be red taped around the top of the pencil stems we’ve all lifted from their desks throughout the year. I have to hand it to them, though, secretaries have tried everything to get us to not steal their pencils. The chain stuck to the counter and to the pencil trick, the big fake flowers on the top trick, they’ve had them made to read “from the desk of…“ , I even taught at one school where the secretaries suspended them from the ceiling so they couldn’t be stolen without them being snapped back and found theoretically guilty.

Secretaries want simple things. They need good chairs. They shouldn’t have to wait around for the staff member with the most comfortable chair to retire. They should have a CEO chair, one that doesn’t have a wheel stuck in lock, tilt back too much or not lower enough. It should have adjustments so her feet can actually touch the ground, not a purse, a box or book. She would like state of the art equipment with excellent training opportunities, service agreements and a cute repair guy. If you can’t give her that, let her use the old stuff she’s used to and trusts, even if it is a typewriter. Give her an ipod so the sounds of requests, complaints, and the hundreds of questions that are thrown at her every day are dulled. Get her one of those number ticket machines so she can talk to people in numerical order when she is good and ready.

Bosses, tell your secretaries where you’re going when you leave and when you’ll be back. You’re the teenager and she’s the mom; the one who bails you out of tough situations, makes you look prepared and cleans up after you literally and figuratively.

Once a month arrange for a masseur to come in and take care of her hands, neck and feet. That will give her something no words on a card, or buds on a flower can. It’s a good psychological move too, because just about the time she gets fed up with you and starts looking for a new job, it will be time for the next massage. Who could quit then?

With the money they make, perks shouldn’t be confined to the top of the coffee pot they were just asked to clean out. Peggy and Laura…I think I got ‘em all!

Happy Secretaries Week.

Summer. The pressure of its approach is already felt in schools. Teachers are looking at the stuff they’ve accumulated throughout the year or kept beyond their expiration dates. Like rangers marking diseased trees with red spray paint, we mentally mark the dumpster items long before the clean in June. We like to keep everything in the room in place until the children are gone. It gives the impression that although the rest of the school is preparing for summer vacation, our class just might be the one that keeps on going.

Administrators are convening. We look for the white smoke arising from the High School in signal that a decision has finally been made about the budget. The guillotine is set up on the athletic field readied to make the cuts. Whisperings in hallways and lunchrooms begin rumors about who’s coming and who will have to go; whose hours will be cut or who travel between two schools. Announced retirements bring longing, envy and party planning responsibilities no one has time for, but will do anyway. It’s the end of the year, when we have the least time and the most is required. It’s frantic and much like election night will be in seven months. You know there will be changes, but what that will mean nobody knows.

It may not be obvious from the outside, but from now through the last day in June there is a lot of tension. The secure, predictable loping of the school year becomes a Tilt-a-Whirl day to day news cycle marathon. Awards Days are planned, which means you have to remember who did something award worthy since October. There is a talent show in the works, concerts by bands and orchestras and performances by classes determined to prove to their parents that they learned something. Assessments take a huge amount of time, especially with the youngest kids who must be tested individually because they can’t read directions or keep track of where to write answers, which many can’t do anyway. Records must be updated, new classes formed, materials ordered after spending weekend hours going through catalogs and writing up the orders. Books need to be reorganized, straightened and stored. Crayons need to be fetched out of the heating systems and furniture, marker tops matched to the dried up marker bottoms, rejected pencil stumps need tossing and the paint you accidentally stained the rug with needs to be lifted so you don’t get moved down on the carpet replacement list. Down to hauling out their potted plants, staff members are worker bees.

Here is the first installation of tips to make the end of the school year easier on everyone.

1. No vacations between now and the end of the year. We need children to get work samples from, give tests to and verify that the distance we think they have come is accurate. Besides, by this time in the year we’re already envious of all the trips kids that are way better than we’ll be able to go on.

2. No unexpected end of year cakes, especially if there is no knife, plates, napkins or time, which there won’t be.

3. Bring all our books back. It’s a little annoying to find them stacked up outside our doors or on a table when we come back in fall. Total amnesty if they are returned before the last week of school.

4. As the weather warms up, remember no shorts shorter than where the fingertips fall when arms are down at sides, no spaghetti straps no belly buttons showing and understand that Crocks are worn at your own risk.

This all goes for students too.

Politicians need to take a strategy used in many early childhood classrooms. They need to have a “Tattle Ear”. I think Earl is the name of the one across the hall. This has proven to be an effective response to the endless tattling that some children enjoy engaging in. The tattling that doesn’t lead to any important information about bleeding, shattered glass, or bone breakage. It’s little whiney stuff. Sometimes, apparently, the simplest solutions are the most effective. Just draw an ear on a piece of paper. It becomes a symbol of caring and patience. The ear never swivels and says "Talk to the hand."  It never hurries, judges or shushes the troubled. Children find weird solace in knowing that when Mrs. Busyteacher doesn’t have time to listen to their rantings, Earl will.

Wouldn’t it be good for politicians and pundits too? Instead of passing off a string of tattles as news or commentary, they could dish it all to Earl and we wouldn‘t have to listen to it. It would clear the way for conversation about things other than lapel pins, whiskey, and recipes. If you want to wonder if a politician’s tears have been evoked as a matter of strategy, ask the ear. If you want to whisper gossip about the other candidates, tell the ear and spare the rest of us. If you want to indict someone for the bad choices made by a surrogate, hash it out with Earl. This technique can also be adapted for use by real people with ears. As a classroom job along with emptying the recycled paper or line leader, make “listener” one of the ways kids can contribute to the smooth running of the day. Every week someone will be appointed to stand and listen to whoever wants to complain, tattle, rant, rave or vent. Make sure everyone gets a turn or you may still have students who are unclear about just how irritating it can be to be tattled at.

Funny how that tattling thing never leaves us. Shoe sizes increase, wrinkles appear, candles on cakes multiply but still we never seem to shake that primordial urge to stick somebody we are consciously or even subconsciously intimidated by.

If kids in school tattle or whine, they become the “nobody wants to play with them” kids. Hear that candidates? We’re doing our best as educators, to make clear to children what is and isn’t tattle worthy. It will help the next generation of voters discern issues from game playing if we adults make the difference clear right from the start. Let’s unite and accept no more tattling from any aged child. Here are some replies, if putting off people isn’t your forte:

“So, what can you do about that? “

“That must have been annoying (or frightening, or frustrating, or …)”

“How did you handle that?”

“What strategy did you use to cope with that?”

“It must have taken a lot of self control not to punch him out when he said that.”

If we can do it in our schools, it may just trickle up to cable TV and talk shows. After last night’s debate, I’m sure I am not the only one thinking realizing just how much that old tattle bug has seeped into our political lives. It must be squished.

Lots of kids across America come home with corporate advertising every day. For example, little toys that say Rony’s all over them. Maybe they were given to kids who bought spaghetti lunch at school. Guess where the spaghetti was from? The association begins. Spaghetti/toy/fun. To me, someone's spaghetti could be made of sun’s rays, vitamins and mother’s milk, and my opinion would still be that promoting it and then providing it as the only entrée item doesn’t pass the stink test.

I’ve nothing against spaghetti. I’ve nothing against nutrition, or even Rony but I’m dead set against using kids for product promotion. When they want spaghetti next, Rony’s will come to mind, obviously. Once the door is open there will be lines forming to break into the business of bulk sales to schools across the country. It would be like serving organic Runkin’ Roughnuts at a senior citizen men’s club breakfast and giving out hands full of Riagra as a take home prize. They’ll make the connection, Riagra/doughnuts/fun.

I’m sure this is done with the best intentions, because afterall, Rony’s tells us this is healthghetti. But bringing any brand name to the fore, as may be done, would make me wonder where the connection to a place like Rony's might lie. I wrote a piece once called, “You Don’t Get Something For Nothing” and this is the motto that keeps me from giving rewards that entice students to have their parents take them to a specific business place. Now if Rony lived over on Morris and was a parent of a Shorewood student, I would be torn. Part of me would want to support his local business (if it wasn’t a link in a chain) and the healthful alternative he is at least attempting to provide students. The other part of me would wonder if Mr. Wal-Mart or Mrs. Roundy’s would move into Shorewood so we would stick store flyers into the Thursday folders.

I would hope that if Shorewood did this, it would be a one-time occurrence. Sure, kids get excited about getting a prize, and giving a few huge ones would be a darn clever way to get kids to want another chance at the grand and now most coveted prize. Kids will eat things for a long time in hopes of getting something free out of it. You don't believe me? Try this word association game: Say "Cracker Jacks" to a Baby Boomer and the word "prize" will be the first and possibly only response they give. I'm pretty sure that if the Rritt Rnn buried twenty-dollar bills in their fish fry occasionally and made that fact public, my intake of cod and Ruinness would skyrocket. That was NOT an advertisement for the Rritt, of course.

I’m just sayin’…

Enough with the prizes already. I know I’ve written about this before but I see an ironic escalation of this in our schools. Eat pizza, get a toy. Eat your vegetables, how about a whistle? Buy school lunch and bring a cheap plastic thing back to the class to shove in a backpack or taken away by a teacher because you‘re playing with it during group time. Food and prizes don’t go together well. I understand that money needs to be made in food service, but kids don’t ask parents to buy lunch because they might get a soccer ball eraser. Do people really need a reward for eating? That just feels wrong, when on the other hand we have food drives, Trick or Treat for UNICEF and penny wars to provide people who would love the reward of eating to be that they can continue to live another day.

I also don’t get attendance awards. Why should a kid take a hit because he had the flu, or broke an arm? They can’t control their attendance in schools. Obviously kids don’t crawl out of bed with a fever getting ready for school because they’re afraid of not getting an attendance award in May. We tell kids not to come to school if they’re sick. I think if we are going to give awards let’s give them to kids who insist to their parents that staying home when ill shows respect and care about others.

Imagine if we had parent award day. Everyone’s parents would be expected to attend. Awards would be given for how many books their children read, if they had perfect or near perfect attendance, if homework assignments were turned in on time, if no trips were taken during the school year and if their child played a musical instrument or ran the mile in less than a couple hours. All the parents would watch, for the opportunity to be inspired by the hard work of other parents. They will relish the delivered message that just because their child didn’t get an award this year, there’s always next year. Sometimes, you’re told, you have to feel your reward inside. So you wonder why you were all dragged out then, if only 55 of the parents are getting rewards, 20 of whom more than one. They have the kids who awards are made for. Kids who are great in academics, athletes, actors and don’t forget healthy. Parents who have children who are winners are asked to stay a few minutes after the ceremony for photos.

My theory is that nothing would change if no rewards were given out. Just like food; kids would still eat hot lunch if their parents made them, prize or no prize. Sure, the recipients enjoy the rewards, and some actually deserve them, but these could be given out in classrooms by their classroom teachers, sent to the homes, or handed out by principals if some sort of faux prestige is what we’re going for. Speaking of whom, why don’t we line up the four Shorewood principals and have an award’s night over at the village hall? Categories can be determined by staff members. We could call it “A Night of Inspiration”. Principals from all over the North Shore will be invited so they can determine their own worth while listening to the achievements of peers.

A writing contest will determine that night’s keynote speaker. Submit entries to high school students who have won at least one president’s award for academic achievement. They’ll select the winner who will take the mike that evening, and then go home with a nice plastic toy podium. Congratulations.

I like the idea of merit pay. Pay teachers according to the progress students make on a standardized test given once a year. This makes it so much easier and the pressure is off by winter break. I will know exactly what to teach and how to teach it and during which weeks of the year. There are plenty of practice tests out there. We could do one every day from the first day of school until the administration of the test. I wouldn’t have to worry about integrating math with art or music with science and I sure wouldn’t have to send kids to Spanish anymore. That’s not tested. P.E. time could be better used working on timed math tests anyway. It will give us teachers a clear picture of what we have push the kids to do well. Cram schools. How international.

Merit pay ought to be a consideration for all professions. Wages gauged by how well the people around you do. Supervisors will get paid according to the advancements of the supervised. Parents will receive tax refunds based on how well their children do. "Well" meaning they get good grades in reading, writing, math. Your kid gets in trouble at school. Oops. Sorry, but that will be a deduction. Susie and Harold skipped a grade? Hold out your hands. We like that. Here’s more money.

Hey Doctors! Let’s set up a merit pay plan for you. If all of the patients you started with in September are cured by June, you get paid your salary. You can get a bonus if the person qualifies for the New York City Marathon the year after being in your care. True, physicians in other climes may have the edge on this one. There are lots of pool owning, bench pressing, body conscious people in the west and south where one can actually enjoy the outdoors. There are a ton of joggers and pilates people, home gyms, beach biking, volleyball and surfing, but if we start making conditional allowances, how will we ever know who is better? Rules are rules.

Let’s have merit pay for politicians too. Why not take what they think is so good and replicate it? It shouldn’t be that hard to make judgments on our elected officials. Measures are already standard. Is the stock market up, yes or no? By a lot? Not enough? Are people earning a living wage? If not, get a cardboard box and a dolly. Are interest rates reasonable? What about home mortgages? Do we owe any other nations money? Oh, that hurt. Let a bunch of teachers work out those scores and we’ll figure out your salaries for the year, senators. Then, you’ll have 180 days to show improvements or we’ll shut the whole country down. Maybe Toyota could run the government, or Honda. They seem to have a handle on things.

I think that idea has merit.

If your house was a school district and it wanted to save money, here’s how you could do it. First of all, be sure you don’t tell any of your family members how much money they can spend or on what. Make them come and ask your permission before getting too attached to that shower nozzle they wanted or that machine that sucks air out of bags so they don’t have to get rid of old sweaters so often. No matter what the request, tell them they will have to put it in writing, attach an item number, quantity, fax number, phone number, total, and punctuate it with tax and shipping.

Let’s say you’re a kid and you want some new toothpaste because the family toothpaste makes you barf. Okay, fair enough. You’re off to order your toothpaste and you hand in your form. Two days later it is handed back to you with a mad person note on it about not having a budget code on it. Hey, you’re a kid. You don’t know what a budget code is so you go to the one you think will know. Your mom says, “You‘ll have to get the code from your father.” So you wait.

When he comes home he says in reply to your inquiry, “Give the form back to your mother and she will get you the toothpaste.” So you do. Two days later your mom gives it back to you and she tells you you can’t order the toothpaste without the number. “It says it right on the bottom of the sheet! “ So you ask what the budget code is for toothpaste and your mom says she doesn’t really know. You tell your mom you really want the toothpaste and will search for the number yourself if she can tell you where to find it. You are told that only your dad has the code and he only gives it out on Tuesdays. Shoot. It’s Wednesday and he’ll be out of town on a business trip next Tuesday. You’ll have to wait a couple weeks for that code, for that form, for that stinkin’ tube of toothpaste.

You’re getting perturbed about now so you go to your bank and shake out enough money to go buy your own toothpaste. You can’t stand the taste of that baking soda stuff one more night. You remember to take the receipt back home and give it to your mom thinking she can just pay you back for the toothpaste. “Sorry,” she says, “You can only turn in credit card receipts.”

“Dude, I’m only 9 years old. I don’t have a credit card!” Your mother goes into some long explanation of how the bank demands things be done a certain way in a certain order with a certain number on a certain kind of paper and a certain kind of receipt. And it’s not for cash.

You turn around and walk away because the things you want to say, nobody’s mother would want to hear much less yours. You go to your room after a nice hearty door slam and scream into the pillow. After a few cathartic minutes of that, you decide to give up and go to bed. You head for the bathroom to brush your teeth. You grab the toothpaste you paid for all by yourself and decide that from now on you’ll buy everything out of your own money because it’s just easier. It’s quick, efficient, doesn’t involve combat, and you actually end up with something in your hands at the end of the day.

If you are going to fool a child this April Fool’s Day, please remember a couple things. Children don’t get subtle jokes. They are more the slip-on-a-banana-peel or chicken/road type connoisseurs. It’s no fun fooling someone only after you’ve had to take ten minutes to explain why what you said or did was really funny. Children also aren’t fond of scary pranks, so no matter how funny it was when someone pulled it on you, think twice before sticking a fake horse head at the bottom of the bed or coming in the house limping, grabbing your throat gasping for air.

I still remember when I was little; my brother had taken a tiny box and poked a hole in the back of it through which he stuck his finger. If you took off the top, like I did at his urging, you would see what looked to be a finger lying atop the pillow of cotton home once to a little gold bracelet. He couldn’t have left it at that. A finger in a box. No, he had to drizzle ketsup over it to further convince me that this index digit got cut off and he was now destined to carry it around in a box for the rest of his life. I suppose that after a few minutes of my crying and screaming he probably pulled his finger out to reassure me that he, the brother I adored, was absolutely fine.

Another prank occurred just after I had fallen asleep in my safe, little all pink room. My brother somehow got hold of one of my physician father’s cigarettes and carried a puff of smoke from the living room to my bedroom in his mouth. He blew it in my face and yelled at me to wake up because the house was on fire. I hightailed it out of there, out the front door and into a darkness that only slightly hid the fact that I was in my baby doll pajamas. Yes, that‘s what they were called…pretty much underpants and a foofy flowered top. I turned around to wait for the smoke to introduce the coming of more smoke with an all out fire finale. All I saw through the no smoke was my brother and sister bent over laughing and rolling on the lawn pausing only long enough to point at me laughing, “I can’t believe she thought the house was burning down, can you?” Mission accomplished. They definitely made a fool of me.

An April fool.

Schools fall victim to clever marketing in ways people don’t always realize or acknowledge. The last reminder I had of this was the peculiar celebration of what is called “100s Day” in elementary schools across the entire country. Corporate America has managed to create a classroom holiday based on the arbitrarily chosen number 100. They market it as math. We teachers fall for gimmicks like this and swear the kids love it. Kids will love most things that you’re excited about, or pretend to be excited about until maybe middle school. So each day teachers add one to the count and when they hit 100, in come 100 little hands and feet carrying buttons, crackers, pennies, nails and other objects that will add up to a couple thousand by the time the last kid brings his stuff in which will be about day 105.

Educational catalogs are filled with 100s Day posters, pencils, stickers, activity books, hats and exorbitant pricing. Does anyone car about 101s Day? Not really. Why not make big deals about other days like that military favorite, March 4^th. Get it? March forth? At least it’s clever. Other days that deserve celebration are April 2, which signifies that passing of the day you can’t trust anyone to not make a fool out of you, February 15 which would signal the dropping of the boy or girlfriend you lost the lust for, but kept around long enough to get through Valentine’s Day and of course the first regular season game of the Green Bay Packers.

The Seuss folks have been extremely successful about creating a day of praise for the great author who wrote Sam I Am on a bet that he couldn’t write a book using only 50 words. Kids, teachers and administrators wear tall striped hats, Cat In The Hat ties and socks with Horton and at least one Who embroidered on them. Seuss books fly off the shelves, padding the wallets of Aunt Alli and her alligator all the way through to the Zizzer Zazzer Zuzz. I’m wondering when Sponge Bob Squarepants Day will be declared. We could all wear sponges on our butts and learn about the mysteries of the sea. I’m surprised that “Get Your Parents to Spend More Money Day” hasn’t been pushed by the feds to boost our ailing economy. Maybe they just haven’t thought of it yet.

Edumercialism has always been part of the candy industry. People have figured out how to teach counting, sorting, graphing, adding, predicting and the reward, subtraction, using M&M candies. Fractions are taught with candy bars that are made to break easily into fractional parts like Hersheys has so cleverly done. Candy corn, Skittle, jellybean, Gummy Bear and Life Saver math can all be found if you Google the right way.

Commercialism sneaks into schools on many scooters. The examples above are choices made by individuals or institutions. They would not lose anything by not getting involved in the celebration of commercially manufactured days or using the products suggested by their producers. Some commercial endorsement comes along defacto, during fundraising efforts throughout the year. Scrip, bottle top contests, barcode collection, wrapping paper sales, and enticing loving parents to purchase cups and refrigerator magnets memorializing artistic childhood renderings is edumercialism at its most crazy making. We want to support schools and the efforts of parent groups dedicated to children’s education, but do feel the sense of manipulation child involved campaigns for funding create. Without such fundraising, schools would be without many of the projects and equipment that benefit everyone.

Public school educators and parents want what is best for children. They want them to have computers, art supplies, visiting musicians, sound systems and things they see in other schools. Product promotion may just have to be the price we all have to pay to give money towards the education of all children. Ironic.

I think parents would gladly contribute money at the beginning of the year to buy out of all fundraisers for the rest of the year. That would mean no selling, no buying, no gimmicks or scheme involvement of any kind. People would be paying to be left alone, free of guilt and done for the entire year. Multiply it by six when your child is in first grade and you’re home free until middle school.

Well, maybe not exactly free…

So you woke up with the usual mix of, “Darn, the weekend is almost over!” and “Yea, the kids will be back in school tomorrow!” Then you realize the kids won’t be going to school, but they’ll be home for the entire week and there is snow. The kids are even sick of it. Where once they used to run to the windows and beg to go sledding, now they look at it like a big plate of salad and cottage cheese. Besides, they lost half their winter clothes anyway.

So what can you do with your children for the seven hours a day they are usually in school? They’ve only been up an hour and already are complaining about how there is nothing to do and they’re so bored and can't they get another video game. Nothing you suggest will excite them. Unless it costs a lot of money, involves electronics, animation or volume they won’t be interested. You offer all the ideas you can come up with but still the bottom lips are curled down and eyes rolled up. You have to resort to something they will be able to relate to. You’ll have to become the person they won’t say no to, the one they don’t sass, pout for or manipulate…their teacher. You have no choice. Do this right today and the rest of the week will be free of mumble and moan. You'll be back to your book in no time.

Make them get all bundled up, don the backpack and walk around the outside of the house. Open the door, greet them all by name and make them hang up their own things. Call them all to the living room carpet and go over the days’ events which you have written on a piece of white shelf paper you had left over from the last time you actually had time to replace shelf paper.

Start out the day with language arts, they’re used to that. Have them pick books to read to practice the reading strategies they learned at school. They'll swear they don‘t even know what a strategy is. Ask them to read out loud so you know they’re really doing it. If they insist on reading in their heads, ask them to retell the story when they’re finished as you quickly read the book yourself so you can catch 'em trying to make stuff up.

After reading, hand out some paper and pencils for writing. Make sure the pencils aren’t sharp. That will make them comfortable. It’s the familiar. Movement is good for brain function so don’t fret when they continually pop up to get a new pencil, roam around a bit and then realize there's no eraser on the thing. One more slow wind around the house. Kids are great at killing time. Be sure you have a clock in the living room so they have something to check every ten minutes while wishing they knew how to tell time.

Do math next. Anything having to do with money, time or measurement is sure to go over well because these answers are clear. The time is never 11:ab. The time is 11: and some other two numbers less than 60. A dime is 10 and a nickel is 5. Period. You can count on math when nothing else in the world seems to make sense, except from middle school on.

Now, point out to the kids that you are only on the second activity of the day and watch their faces. It’s time for recess. Get everyone layered in whatever winter clothes are left and head outside only remind kids of the rules as you stand at the closed door wagging your finger with one hand and holding onto the knobwith the other. No throwing snow, no pushing, no sliding on the ice, no sliding on what will eventually be grass, no teasing, intimidating or threatening. Stand at the window and watch the kids pretty much stand in one place for fifteen minutes. Call them in and tell them it’s time for snack. Finally, something they are excited about. Bring out the celery and mushroom slices with a chunk of tofu between. Miraculously, they realize they aren’t really hungry.

Remind them that there is still science, social studies and Spanish left to do before the first day of vacation is over. Show them the stack of workbooks you got from Half Price Books that have everything they’ll need to stay busy. Sound really, really cheery like you‘re actually excited. That’s what teachers do and it won’t take long for the kids to recognize the smell of it. Busywork aka seatwork aka torture. If you have the kind of children who like to complain about how bored they are or how there’s never anything to do in your stupid house, shelf paper is really cheap these days. After about half a day of this you'll realize just how self-directed your children can be when a day with you as teacher is their only other option.

Have some peace and quiet on me.

Who thought that putting zip-off legs on little kids pants was a good idea? It’s not like they are on safari and need to carry a canoe across a river. I’ve been holding up the bottom of somebody’s pants in front of the classroom for the last two days now asking, “Whose is this?” They don’t remember unless they’re standing there in boots and shorts with zippers around the bottom and you‘re staring at their kneecaps.

Now that winter is almost over and we can look to spring, be sure to go to your child’s school and check out the lost and found. It’s absolutely confounding what kids don’t realize they’re missing. How do you walk home in eight inches of snow with only one shoe and not notice?

If you plan to insulate your soon to be greener home this summer, don’t go out and buy costly materials. Why, you could cover the better part of a four bedroom colonial attic with all the mittens, jackets, scarves, and snow pants laying in internment just outside the office. How many people can claim they have Land’s End insulation? And that's just the non-perishable items. Hazmat suits are donned to empty the lunchboxes and bags that have been buried so long the now liquid contents even make dumpsters hold their noses.

But before you say that final good-bye to the season, stop in the office and ask to see the lost and found drawer. There you will possibly find the glasses your child said he lost at church, the watch you bought your kid so he’d get home on time, the heirloom necklace your little girl wore because it made her look pretty and the cell phone you’ve been looking for since your sweet little boy snuck it out in his backpack just under the Star Wars guys. In haphazard display will be pagers, ipods, video games, inhalers and the clarinet you said would get lost if she didn’t take better care of it. It’s a Vegas pawn shop without the pawn or the Vegas part.

Next winter, parents, don’t bother with the nice clothes. I know you mean well, but it won’t be worth it. They’ll just come to represent your kinda crazy part. You’ll find yourself taking inventory every morning and afternoon to see if all the pieces are still there. When something is missing, it will take on double the meaning because everything in winter comes in twos. When one of those items gets lost it renders the other useless. Hearing your child trying to defend himself by saying, “I can wear this one,“ while holding up the left hand glove just makes you madder. You’ll find yourself headfirst at the bottom of a wooden box, swimming through two feet of clothing orphans, throwing onto the floor other parents’ kids’ clothes with both hands, the hands you used to write your master’s thesis. See what you’ve become.

Oh by the way, the forecast is for snow.

Did you ever have one of those weeks where everything seems to go wrong, like your dogs eat a full bottle of anti-inflammatories you got because one started limping really badly, so you had to induce double vomiting to figure out who ate most? Then you had to take them to the emergency room for charcoal treatment and subcutaneous hydration leaving them looking like two little hunchbacks, one of which doesn’t even limp anymore?

Or did you ever have a seventeen year old diabetic cat who eats prescription food that comes in a shrink wrapped case of twenty-four cans? Were you ever in such a hurry that you just put it up on top of the stove until you got back, but the recuperating dogs figured out how to pull it down and tear open cans with their bleeding gums leaving shards of aluminum shimmering like the ripples on water during the last hour of sleep you just lost over the weekend? What about when you got your partner teacher a rabbit for the classroom and it chose to show only your friend his love and desire by spraying her clothing and not that of the other 38 people in the room so you had to dish out a couple hundred bucks to have it neutered or she'd give it away?

Yeah, it’s been one of those. I have a feeling the presidential candidates can understand. All three of them have been sent to the yoga mats to contemplate the repercussions that outside events and beings can have on one's life. I’ve tried to watch each one and figure out how they handle it when weeks like this come by, yank off the flag pins and poke them in the eyes with them.

What’s good about days like this? Ironically enough they can be unlikely equalizers. They remind us of how similar and vulnerable we are. Kids have days like these too. They get blamed for something a friend does, or maybe the whole class has to stay in from recess because somebody belched real loud on purpose and everyone started laughing but no one admitted doing it. It’s very hard to peel the layers efficiently to get to the truth of the matter, so a one-size-fits-not-fair-to-all judgment is made and administered. Punishing someone for the misdeeds of others is time effective and less complicating than getting to the facts can be.

Just as we, kids have days when nothing seems to goes right, when anger begets anger, when everyone else is dumb and when no one loves or understands them. On the same, only older hand, It’s not the rare employee who gravels up the voice, declares a well child ill or has a spouse reluctantly call in their sickness. We know when we’ve had enough of the real world.

I would say before you get to the point where you are even metaphorically downing vials of dog pills, ripping open cans with your teeth, saying stupid things to the press, or in front of a microphone, stop and do everyone a favor. As Pat Buchanan said so naturally to a fellow pundit twenty-four hours after he should have stayed home for a mental health day, “Just shut up.”

No matter how much we teachers complain about kids being absent, I’m all for a filter day once in a while. One day of peace and uncluttered thought can do wonders for the next days‘ replies. Kids in school are expected to behave well, participate, engage, volunteer, cooperate, self-control and accomplish all day every day. Adults have to drive the high road, measure words, edit, be professional, parental, measured and mature. Now tell me who in the hell can do that all the time. That’s just crazy thinking! Besides, show me one person on earth who wouldn’t lie, cheat or steal their way to personal gain all the while trying to convince people they are grown ups or congressmen, past attorneys general or even state governors. And kids? They are all a bunch of little liars just like we are only better. They play us like keyboards and we fall for it every time. They swear they aren’t tired and they are. They say they have to go to the bathroom and they don’t or that they don‘t and they did. They scream they hate us and they don‘t. No, not really. I could go on for pages, no make that volumes.

Whoa...someone needs a sick day.

So, Florida. It’s you again. You hang around in the back of the room goofing off, texting your friends, listening to the ipod you don’t think I know you have, and then wonder why you keep getting caught and punished. It’s bad enough you roll in trouble yourself, but dragging Michigan into it? Shame on you. Not exactly shocking that you both totally flunked the chapter test. So now your parents want us to let you take it all over again, huh? A do-over, just for you because you’re so special.

There’s one in every class. There is always a child whose name is uttered at least 20 times a day. The one who is willing to push other kids out of line to be first. He’s not afraid to wrestle in order to get the football for the game he insists on being team captain and quarterback of. He declares himself victim while standing among the wounded, and doesn’t understand why he can’t have, or be the exception to every rule. Don't blame him for trying, though. It works sometimes. We’ve become a fair-conscious society and young people help us all establish thought boundaries. You swore you didn’t want to be in the performance, Florida. You gave up your chance claiming you always got stupid parts and all the other kids got the good ones. That's your constant gripe. They get the wish bone, you get the coccyx.

You stomped around, pounded the desk and if truth be told I thought your head was going to explode. Yeah, you were mad. Okay, that was the last straw, I concluded. No performance, no speaking part, no walk across the stage, not for you. You would be on stage crew (and I mean no offense to stage crews). That would be your punishment this time and we all hoped you'd learn from it, or at least not ruin it for the rest of us.

So it’s the night of the play and the male lead shows up with a voice that sounds like the satellite dish got knocked out of line just a bit. The words eek out crackly, like they are being born against their will. There is no way this poor guy can get through this show. The understudy is at his aunt’s wedding that weekend and the pickings are pretty thin. Guess who are the only ones that have the parts memorized?--Florida and Michigan.

You weigh your options. Florida, although a punk, is more theatrical and you’ve seen his work before. He could definitely pull it off. Michigan, on the other hand, mainly wants attention and for someone’s coolness to rub off on him. Still, he’s not averse to getting into trouble every now and then. How do you think children would solve this dilemma?

Children have an inner Ghandi. They just want people to get along, live in peace and be nice. Their memories are too short to hold grudges which makes them very likeable people. A sense of fairness is strong, especially when it comes to their own gains. What would they do? They’d go for fairness without prejudice. They’d write the options down on little slips of paper and pick one.

I love the way kids think.

A friend came to my parent’s house with me one day and while I was doing something, she sat in the living room with my dad, who was watching television. I heard her ask a couple of questions just to get a conversation going. Not hearing any replies from him I went in and saw he staring at the TV, apparently oblivious to what she had said, “Dad, she’s been talking to you!” I admonished. Laughing, he turned to my friend and apologized. “I’m sorry. Your voice sounds just like my wife’s.”

Classrooms are seeing increasing populations of little dads in recliners. Teachers are talking and they are ignoring. Children with no legitimate excuses are being found guilty every day of selective hearing syndrome. They will sit and look right at us as we give directions and then ask if the task is crystal clear. “Yeah! “the chorus harmonizes. Kids get up, take out pencils and then in the same swivel, yell out, “What are we supposed to do?” They get to work and when it’s time for step two which requires cutting, we hear, “WHERE are the scissors?” which are on the front table they were told to go to in order to get scissors. This drives teachers crazy. Generally speaking about ¼ of the kids in a class need directions repeated, ask friends what they’re supposed to do or do things incorrectly because they didn’t listen to what was said.

Imagine watching a presidential debate and two out of eight candidates are paying little or no attention to the Tim Russert who asks, “So what is your opinion on this, Mr. X?

Mr. X looks up. “What?”

“What is your opinion?”

“On what?”

So the Russert moves on and has his question answered by Ms. Y, Mr. Z and Mr. A.

“Mr. B? How would you handle that?”

“I would leave it up to the states.” fakes Mr.B.

“You would leave the barrel price of oil up to the states? Mr. B? How would that work?”

Unfortunately, that’s the way many conversations go in classrooms. Time is wasted, those who are ready to go, get inpatient with those who never seem to listen; teachers get frustrated, the little dad gets confused and it makes for a tense workplace. When we talk with parents many tell us that their children do the same thing at home, and then punctuate it with a shake of the head and the upturned palms meaning there's nothing that can be done about this genetic deficiency.

While the urges are to admonish we may repeat ourselves three or four times. All that does is reinforce the not listening. Children quickly figure out they don’t really have to attend the first time. If you want your child to learn the fine art of being a good listener, the following suggestions may be just what the ENT ordered:

-Turn off external sounds from things like Xbox, TV, DVD and friends. Offer assistance and arrange opportunities for your child to practice. Listening is graded on the progress report under work/study skills and as such can be sharpened.

-Part of the reason kids are slow at getting the listening thing is because they tell us they don’t have any chores to do at home. Not all, of course. Just the ones that don’t listen. Too much throne time at the palace. Give the little princes jobs around the house that require them to follow multi-step directions such as cleaning out a litter pan that you forgot to line first. Oops.

-Children these days don’t have a lot of muscle strength in their arms. You can be a doubly good parent if you stack up the rewards by stacking up the tasks. Following directions can improve listening and muscle tone. Make them pick up things they capriciously strewed over the floors, under the beds and in the closets for the past four months. Step two? Pack them snugly in boxes to accomplish step three, which is to carry them down to the basement where they will stay until the room remains clean for a week.

-Have your children repeat what you have just told them to do. Require word endings and correct pronunciations. “Scrape the pasghetti offa my plate.” cannot be an acceptable answer to “What did I tell you to do after you finished dinner?” English as a second language isn’t just for foreign speakers.

Be creative. Integrate your listening curriculum with as many household chores as you can. Every time you have to repeat yourself, add a chore. If you read this piece aloud to your children, I can almost guarantee that they will ignore the whole thing except for that “add a chore” part after which their heads will spring up. They won’t need that repeated. They’ll look indignant and go into a diatribe about fairness and justice which might spark a great social studies or civics lesson! Watch what happens when they figure out that you just won. The hearing returns but only until they get the money or the favor they wanted from you in the first place.

Selective hearing syndrome. When it comes to teachers' frustrations, it's a cockroach.

It’s parent/teacher conference day; only here it is parent/teacher/student conference day. There is something new in the air and it is causing excitement in some Shorewood classrooms. These meetings are not parent sit across from teacher who talks for half and hour conferences. These are student led, and the teacher stays out of it. Students engaging in this type of meeting have been preparing to sit down with their parents and go over work samples they have declared their best work for a reason they state during the meeting. Children have portfolios that hold some work they were required to put in, much of it they chose to include. Some very young children may actually show their parents what they know as they move them from area to area in a classroom set up for the purpose of parents watching children do and discuss what was taught this trimester. If a picture is worth a thousand words, watching with your own eyes is priceless.

When you are looking at work samples and asking the right questions, you can learn more about what your child knows and how they think than you ever thought possible. Here’s an example. One child turned in a drawing of a house and family, beautifully drawn but covered with horizontal lines from one side to the other. The teacher was concerned about the cross outs suggesting anger or anxiety, possible problems at home or in class. She went up to the child, knelt down and gently asked why he ruined his beautiful picture by scribbling all over it. The boy glanced at his picture then looked up in bewilderment. “That’s not scribbling! That’s the wind!” I nodded and walked away, certain that a future in child psychology was not to be. He was probably shaking his head thinking wondering what dope his teacher is.

If you have your child with you at conferences, as how they got answers they did less on the answers themselves. You will learn much about their thinking process. Ask a lot of why questions and you’ll know if they are thinking deeply about things or just memorizing. For example: Children learn all 50 states in 3^rd grade. Ask them why there are states at all, then look at their faces. If they look at you like you’re nuts, they may have never had that discussion and it holds the bigger idea.

When you look at your child’s writing, you can tell if there is an understanding of what a word or sentence is. If all the letters run together, your child may not be able to answer the question, “What is a word?” If there are no periods, or sentence endings but a great number of “then” or “and then” connectors, your child probably doesn’t know what a complete sentence is and instead of putting the period in the wrong place, they just continuously write the world’s longest sentences. You may want to address that as you read or write with your child at home.

If your child is sticking capital letters in where they don’t belong there are a couple reasons why; either s/he doesn’t know how to physically make the lower case letter, or there is confusion about when to capitalize letters. One child started each line on the left side of the paper with an upper case letter thinking that that was where sentences began. Another capitalized the word “birthday” all the way through a piece because it is the name of a day. These are things you can only know by seeing the evidence and talking with your child about it. Learning how they think is fascinating and they usually come out looking like geniuses.

If you don’t have student led conferences, ask your child’s teacher to see work samples and ask questions about what it is you are looking at. Sometimes writing is primitive and sloppy because they were doing it five minutes before recess or writing about a topic they can’t stand writing about. Passive aggression. Kids are great at it.

No matter what kind of conference you have, use physical specimens as jump off points to discuss your child’s progress. Ask to compare work from earlier in the year to the work produced now. Even though today’s work may not be great, you may find that your child has come extremely far considering the starting point. Resist the urge to talk in terms of how your child is doing compared to other people’s kids. It does no one any good. Believe in the end that children want to do well. They want to learn and will, if we figure out how they think. This takes a conversation that includes them, not one that leaves them home or sitting out in the hall.

Just a little tip: When conferences run for two consecutive 12 hour days, try not to get the last conference on the second day. I’m just sayin’…

After thirty some years in teaching I feel qualified to state the obvious about parent volunteers. They are women. Occasionally, men will help out and I’m sure there are some that are reliable regulars somewhere but for the most part it is women doing the yeoman’s share of the work. I don’t think it is because fathers don’t care, I think it is that they think bigger. There is no way I could find even three men willing to sit at a table and count thousands of milk bottle tops and oddly enough, I tip my hat to them. One parent suggested to me that rather than being gender issue, it is a stay at home vs. out of house worker issue. I conceeded the point to him but mostly to be conciliatory.

 At any rate, this father had what I considered to be an excellent idea to raise funds for the school. Based on the knowledge that our community is full of competent residents, services and expertise could be purchased instead of popcorn or cookies. One transaction could raise $100 and the purchaser could get computer repair or house cleaning instead of 37 carbohydrates and guilt. Rather than take months to collect bottle tops which if fact are corporate tactics to product push, why not tap the talents of people invested in the good of the school community?

While nickel and dime approaches to fund raising have a foot solidly in past tradition, costs and capabilities have escalated. The time it takes to bake, package, price, present, sell and total is just not efficient when you consider that one service transaction could reap much greater reward. I think we would see a lot more representation from parents if they could offer their services rather than spending time doing something requiring twice the work for half the reward. Sure, they could count bottle tops at home, but don’t. They could put cookies in plastic bags in their homes, but I haven’t heard of them doing that and the fact that they don’t doesn’t bother me one bit. I wouldn’t either. It just doesn‘t make good economic sense.

The fact that public schools have to do fundraising at all is sickening, when you think of where other public monies go, but as long as we do it, the government gets away with being dead beat parent to children all over the country. Public funding has not kept up with today’s costs of educating young people and if corporations are about education so much that they will hand out a nickel for a milk cap, free ice-cream for a good report card or a hamburger for a child who reads 30 books, why not drop the little dance and contribute to schools because they are good corporate citizens instead of clever corporate schemers.

Until pop top, bar code and bottle top counters refuse to bite, people will assume there is enough fund raising going on to provide everything needed for quality education but when the counting stops, the trickle stops and when the trickle stops people will see just how much need there is and then maybe politicians will have to address big issues in big ways. As long as fundraising is seen as necessary, then I say think big or stop completely.