Madness on the Play Ground

 

 

 

        Live long             

The teachers shivered as they watched the recess horde which never ever ended. It’s death or life, lies or truth. It's them or us. Their eyes glazed around the mob, knowing that some opportunity could lead to havoc.   

Like the crack of a jump rope, a type of sizzling chemistry suddenly burst around them, exploding loose. Screw philosophy and fact. Forget about instruction, all the facts from teacher education. Clothes? Who needs them when all hell breaks loose?

Somewhere, there is an agency, somewhere that will set the playground in order. Over near the swings there would be a huddled group of people, clutching boxes of books, reading as if their lives depending on it. The agency will know how to help them all. Soon.

I wouldn’t count on help coming anytime soon

I am well versed in recess duty.  There is no joy in that place. In fact it is hell.

 The colored words are a Wednesday Word collection from ages ago, 2019.. Recess memories still remain.

 

Old books, Old titles

One of many titles

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Scanning through old books at antique stores is something that gives me joy.  Holding a well-used book and appreciating the hands that once turned pages fills me with happiness. 

Sometimes I find a real winner, like The Ideas of a Plain Country Woman.  The writer (The Country Contributor) preferred to remain anonymous, although she had written articles for Ladies Home Journal.  Her observations and honesty are rare now, let alone in her times, circa 1909.

And other times my finds are true disappointments.  The Farm Animals on Strike by A. H. E. Hoosier, published in 1923 by A.Flanagan Company, Chicago, Illinois, is one of these.    I tried to read it, but the book was an ill-disguised lesson on proper treatment of farm animals.  When the animals were speaking, it was entertaining.  But the moment a human started dialogue, the sentences were blogged down in verbosity.

One of many titles.

The thing is I truly wanted a real gem here, and in a way, I got more than I had hoped. 

There is a library card pocket glued on the inside cover. Taken from Port Allen Library, librarian’s peculiar cursive states the author, title, and book number.  The book was checked out on Feb. 5, 192-, by Jackie Forbes, followed by Patrice and Randy.  Tucked into the book are two 3X5 index cards.  One side of each has been mimeographed (remember that??) “Superintendent’s Check-Out Card”.

One of many titles

The teacher, Hazel E. Pine, was clearly closing down the school year, doing the mundane paper work which required that every book be accounted for and returned.  Necessary, but mundane work.

So, here I am, holding this old book.  I went to an archived site (included beneath the pictures) and found a collection of educational books published by A. Flanagan and other publishers.  Each book is accessible for on-line reading.  Definitely worth checking out, especially Mistakes in Teaching.  

Not exactly a gem, but maybe a gold mine from the past?

 

 

Looking through old books is a such a great experience. I have to stop myself from buying them.

...and he's safe!

Word Cloud for teacher contracts

Teacher Unions are powerful and one cannot discount what they do and can/will do.

This is a follow-up on my previous post about how coaches dramatically wreck lives of students whose injuries resulted in a horrific change in their future: some have died and some are permanently disabled.

Coaches establish their journey into a coaching career through their teacher credentials. Their membership to the teacher unions ensures their protection from losing their jobs. 

Coaches usually teach health related subjects, like health, sports sciences, PE, and civics. This allows a segue into coaching.  

This said, coaches and other teachers are union members. And the union will protect the coaches with legal forces. Coaches are tenured and protected by the Union umbrella.

Protection for teachers and students

A teacher NOT belonging to a union is vulnerable. Her/his position can be compared to standing in front of a wall and being plastered with buckets of mud over and over...

All that said, coaches have the protection of the union. No matter what. 


The purple underlined words underneath the images are the sites from where they came and the information.

Dream Cycle

Source: needanewname

Almost every morning we wake up, one of us will say “I had the weirdest dream last night…” and then talk about it.  Somehow as the day wanders by, the details of the dream fade away until the dream becomes a pale ghost of colors and people.

I always have “Teacher” dreams. The dream always includes having a huge number (60? 100?) of students with me as the only teacher.  The classroom is a crumbling building, bricks and rubble lying around.  We can hear the sounds of wild animals and shouting.  Other teachers I know are walking by with cups of coffee and laughing.  Then suddenly I revert to being a student-teacher, with no clue how to teach.

Everyone dreams, at least that is the accepted idea.  We dream to relieve stress…we dream to solve problems unsolved when going to sleep…we dream to face our fears… I guess those are all accurate.

My dreams seem to dredge up memories of events in my life, but twisted somehow.  All the anxiety of those times get magnified and blown up, increased to be beyond solving.

What about you?  Do you have a recurring dreams, one that the theme is always the same, the problems as well?  Is anything ever resolved?

The Time of Purple Penguins

clubpenguin

Ms. Tyrone nervously brushed her new shirt supplied by PTA funds, and glanced around the classroom.  This was her 40^th year teaching, her last year.  With 100 sick-day accumulation, Ms. Tyrone would be teaching only 84 days.  How can I make it to day 84?...

She opened the door to Trailer 34 with a big smile, and received a loud welcoming and clapping.  Her 32 students wore shirts matching hers which pleased some parents but most parents were clearly unhappy.

Bath and Body Works

“Here are your desk numbers…Can you find yours!?”  Ms. Tyrone threw on a chipper, oh-this-will-be-so-much fun smile.  Confusion covered the children’s faces.  The parents who clustered in the back of the room were equally confused.

Finally smart 32 # raised her hand, bold and brave.  

“Mrs. Tyrone…why do we all have just numbers?
  
And why are the numbers followed by #, % or *?
  
And, why are we all wearing these tee-shirts of “purple penguins”?  And why…”

Ms. Tyrone held up her hand.  “I am to be called ‘Ms. Tyrone’ since that will not indicate whether or not I am married…er… 32 # .  The Purple Penguins shows all that being a girl or boy or one who is not sure, we all are exactly the same.”

Oh those parents are not happy, not happy at all.

Some really cute shirts

Ms. Tyrone continued, sweat covering her face. “Having a number completely eliminates having your own name, which invariably would indicate that you are a girl or boy or one who is not sure.” 

Dear Lord, I hate this, I hate this…

"And then finally, 32 #, we have these symbols---  # or a * or %--- next to your number. These will help me call you up by groups, to work especially with you or to arrange the desks.” 

I wonder how long that will last…

Some parents snickered, some looked confused, and a good number looked angry.

“Well, then!  26 % , will you please read the rules on the board, and we’ll get down to all the wonderful new history we will be learning this year."

I think I am going to vomit…” which she did, on 32 #.

partyplace: nice stuff

"Purple Penguins" is also a computer game in which children can play with other children in a protected site and monitored by the parent.  That is all I know.  I'll ask my gr-kids. 

For further information on this issue in education, please go to these sites:

Purple Penguins,  To Help Teachers,  What if I am a red penguin?,  Journal Star

This is a huge issue in education, and will increase.  If you want to know more, access Google where both sides will be presented.  The above sites are a mixture.
                                                    And, now....

# * %... These are entirely my idea, maybe my projection into a time where this will become reality.  A bit of 1984  thrown in, followed with Attica, The Giver, Hunger Games, and with Animal Farm on the side.

Now, "Common Core" is radically changing education.  Please research this and come to your own conclusions.  And the Purple Penguins say, "Hi!"

 Twenty years ago in a staff meeting, the Principal informed us that there were some big changes in education coming in 15-20 years.  The NEA (National Education Association, one of the most powerful unions in California, if not all of the USA), along with many lobbyist and special interest groups, were promoting changes in the curriculum that would drastically change education to reflect new approaches, all of which would require revisionist viewpoints.  

I asked what-if questions:  What if the changes conflict in the teacher's  beliefs?  What if the changes eliminate or rewrite important elements of education ?  He told me (all of us), "Those are good questions."

As a teacher and a parent, I believe that math should be taught as math, not with an agenda.  Reading and writing should promote improved reading and writing skills, not a chance to indoctrinate.  History should reflect the history of our nation and world, including every single person in those events.

I also believe that any student who bullies another student should receive severe consequences.  Anti-bullying should become part of instruction in the classroom and at home.  Every child should have a safe classroom.  

What is deemed to meet these standards should be approved by independent educators, not special interest groups.

Parents should be given back the power they once had, and teach standards at home.  They must make the decisions that were/should be theirs to make.  

Source: Very Interesting

So here we are, and he was right.  I am retired.  

Eyes Wide Open

source

My small rural town in the 1950s was a close community where it was understood that each life impacted the entire town.  If there was an illness or injury, no one needed to ask for help.  Assistance flowed into that family’s home.

There was an understood, unspoken responsibility each person maintained for the people of the town.  If one had an alcohol addiction or was mentally unstable, everyone knew about it.  Everyone cared about what happened.  And, each family actively supervised their problem.  What this one person did affected every other person.

Many many years after I had grown and left this town, things changed.  A generation died off; my generation relocated where there were jobs.  The dynamics shifted and new unknown people moved into the emptied houses.  This was a different town.

There was a boy who was odd—that’s what my mother called him. When he was in school, no programs or aid had existed for this boy who was essentially barely able to button his shirt, let alone talk or read.  When he was about ten, his parents kept him home and attended to his needs.

One day, this mentally disturbed and developmentally delayed boy (now grown to a man) went to the grade school.  Thirty years had passed since he had been there, but this man still possessed great anger about those years in the back of a classroom where he was teased and belittled.  Angry about the teacher who had been ‘unkind’, he took a double-barreled shotgun with him.

There was a confrontation, but everyone knew him and was able to prevent what could have been horrific.  The teacher retired shortly after.

If this happened in my small hometown in the 1980s, why is it any surprise that crazy events happen now…most people live in one town and work in another…neighbors come and go…most towns have been merged with other towns into one big city glop…

Be watchful and speak up.  See someone behaving strangely?  Call the police.  Don’t ignore the obvious signs of danger.  Pay attention.  Keep yourself and others safe.  The responsibility is ours.

Justice Rendered

Teachers see it every single day and have to deal with it all the time:  the conflict between children.

This seems to always happen out on the playground, away from the teacher’s line of vision.  As the children line up to go into the classroom, angry red faces of the two students who boil in their rage stand at the end.

The teacher pulls the two aside, send the class to their desks, with directions to read from the designated text book.  Then she faces the two combatants.

source

Who started it?  What did you do?  Who said what?  The two children each point a finger at the other, claiming that “he’s the one—he did it!”

source

Then there is the evidence gathering.  Which students in the class witnessed the event?  One by one those witnesses are questioned outside, while the finger-pointers steam at their desks, out of ear shot.

Debates, questions, answers ensue.  Decision made.  Teacher directs the two less-angry students outside to deliver the verdict.

Sometimes both are guilty.  If the students are girls, this is highly probable.   

Sometimes one is the guilty party and the other the victim.  These are usually boys. 

One will shout the loudest and deny the most.  He will also accuse the other of the very things of which he himself has been accused.   I look at that person suspiciously from the get-go.

Chances are this is not his first time facing judgment. 

I sigh.  Being the judge and delivering the verdict is a great responsibility.