School’s Out

We finished school today, so I thought I’d provide my thoughts on my first year as a teacher.

First, I like it much better than being a lawyer. It was last year this time that I submitted my two week notice to the firm. No regrets. Well, I do miss the lunches. Otherwise, teaching is much better. Most entertaining and low stress job I’ve ever had. There’s all that sentimental idealistic crap, too.

Second, I had no idea how much you have to struggle to be able to teach. And not with the kids, with the bureaucrats from the feds on down to the school principal. The amount of classes, meetings, and paperwork required by the state and parish is stunning. Little of this does any good, and whatever good it does is erased by the time it all takes away from your class preparations. Then when you make it into class, the office constantly interrupts with announcements, surprise assemblies, meetings you must leave to attend, random uniform checks and any number of other non-educational bothers. I’ve been shocked at how many things are working to keep you from focusing on educating the kids.

Third, the next time someone suggests extending the school year as a way to solve education problems, tell them schools just need to learn how to better use the time we have. See the above paragraph for some of the ways schools waste time. At our school, for example, the next school year will be about 36 calendar weeks, not counting holidays. In reality, though, after subtracting days lost to testing, prep for testing, assemblies, trips, and all kinds of random silliness, we will have about 27 weeks for instruction. One great way to save time? Instead of interrupting the year with state-wide tests, replace final exams with state-wide standardized finals. That would put 3 more weeks of instruction on our calendar next year.

Fourth, one great way to really improve schools would be more expulsions. In the seventh grade at my school there are about ten or fifteen students who do absolutely nothing other than interfere with the other kids’ educations. You could ask each teacher to independently list the twenty most troublesome kids, and at least fifteen would be the same on every list. This is not a teacher problem. I don’t know why these kids are like this, I don’t care. I’m not a social worker, minister, or psychiatrist. I am a teacher, and these kids are preventing me (and the other teachers) from fully educating all the other kids. Eliminate the problems, and the rest of the kids will greatly improve. Continue with the fuzzy headed “every kid is salvageable” nonsense, and everyone suffers.

Fifth, it does not take much effort to earn the boss’s favor. Come to work every day. Submit your lesson plans on time. Keep your class under control. Do that, and your principal will think you are awesome.

Sixth, it does not take much to enjoy your job, either. Remember you only work for half the year. Remind yourself that kids are a pain in the a**, but they are really entertaining, too. Have a sense of humor, especially about yourself. Don’t fight the system, just do the stupid paperwork, submit it, then close your door and teach your class the best way you know how. And of course the kids don’t know anything and don’t know how to behave themselves, that’s why you’re there.

Seventh, I have no idea what it takes to really be a good teacher. Maybe I’ll figure that out next year.

Finally, it’s a cliche, but it’s at least a funny version:

California Legalizes Gay Marriage

Here’s the story (with a link to the opinion about half way down the page):

In a monumental victory for the gay rights movement, the California Supreme Court overturned a voter-approved ban on gay marriage Thursday in a ruling that would allow same-sex couples in the nation’s biggest state to tie the knot.

Having not read the opinion, I won’t say much about it right now. But I don’t expect to find much new, most of the arguments are the same, even if adjusted for each state in which they are made. (See, e.g. cases from New York, Arkansas, New Jersey). Those in favor of gay marriage argue, correctly, that equal protection means the state has to have a legitimate reason to offer one group of people a benefit it denies to others. States give heterosexual, but not homosexual, couples all kinds of special marriage benefits. Sexual orientation, however, the gay rights advocates assert, is not a legitimate reason to give benefits to the one group but not the other. Hence, gay couples deserve the same rights as heterosexual couples. The anti-gay side then responds with three different arguments: One, the distinction is legitimate, because the goal is to promote healthy children, and gay couples can’t have children.  Two, this is none of the court’s business; whatever the other two branches want to do about marriage is final. Three, we’ve always done it this way. I think the pro gay rights argument is legally correct, and that decisions against gay marriage are almost always motivated by political or religious beliefs, rather than strict adherence to the law.

Like I said, though, I have not read the opinion. Nor am I a practicing attorney anymore. So I don’t want to discuss the legal niceties. I do want to say that I am not only sure the California Court reached the correct legal result, I am glad it reached the correct legal result.

I used to be the kind of person who would have shouted down this court decision as an atrocity that would bring God’s wrath down on America. Then I became the type of person who could distinguish between legal and good, supporting the right to marry, even if I personally disapproved of it. Now If any of the gay couples I know wanted to go to California to get married, I’d help buy the tickets. And when they came home, if they wanted to protest our own state’s legally sanctioned bigotry, I’d probably join them.

The truth is there is no reason to oppose gay marriage, or gay anything. There’s lots of superstitions, and myths, and ignorance, and fiats from ancient books. If you take the time to actually meet a few gay people, though, you’ll discover there isn’t any basis for your blanket prejudice. Sure, there’s the obvious, and sure, you can make general statements about “gay people” (just like you can “black people” or “southern people” or “British people”) but essentially, they aren’t any different than any other “type” of person. They’re individuals just like any other individuals and if you ignore the animosity towards “gay people” and treat them that way, you’ll have a hard time retaining the animosity. I did anyway.

Pics From The Crazy Weather

We had 6.5 inches of rain between seven and ten last night, and similar amounts this morning. Here’s a few shots of our neighborhood.

The street in front of our house:

The duck park:

Good day for the ducks:

Pecans are yummy, but the trees are not the greatest thing to have in your yard:

The Times has pics here. All the Shreveport shots are within two miles of our house. The last one is the best, I think. My step sister’s fiance’s sister (got that?) was stranded on that bridge (or near there) last night. My step sister pushed the car out of the water.

I Love The Internets

Things Younger Than John McCain.

Stunning, really. But my favorite part was a joke following “Alaska:”

A polar bear asks his Mother, ‘Mom, am I a real polar bear?”
“Yes darling, of course you are.” his mother answered.
“Are you SURE I’m a polar bear?”
“Yes dear,” his mother replied, “You are. I am, you sister is, you’re father is, we’re all polar bears.”
“Are you POSITIVE?”
“Yes, yes, for the last time, you’re a polar bear! Why do you keep asking?”
“‘Cause I’m fucking freezing!”

via Humid Haney.

Raising Slobs

Not a surprise:

Louisiana is one of the 10 worst in every category of litter and debris ranking in a new study called “The American Litter Scorecard,” authored by Washington-based government analyst Steve Spacek.

Why my lack of shock? Two reasons.

One, as a cyclist, I get a much closer view of roadsides than does a motorist. Not pretty. Coke bottles, beer cans, torn trash bags spilling their guts into the road, you see it everywhere.

Two, as a teacher I see the cause. Not that kids are slobs; of course they are. But that teachers let them be slobs, and often are themselves. On field day Friday, I was the only teacher rounding up children and making them pick up the empty water and Gatorade bottles. I’m also one of the few who will not let them leave class until the floors are completely empty of debris. I have no control, though, over the faculty lounge. And if you ever saw it, you’d know why no one makes the kids pick up after themselves: The thought probably never crosses their minds.

Funniest And Most Offensive Thing I’m Likely To Read This Week

Hilary Clinton is to the Democratic Party as Stacy was To Wayne in Wayne’s World. The crazy ex-girlfriend:

It’s 2:31 AM. The Democratic Party is sleeping peacefully when it hears its phone buzz on the night stand. It rolls over and sees “Hillary” on the caller ID. It pauses briefly, considering pushing “END” and not dealing with this shit tonight. The thought is appealing but the Democratic Party knows that if it doesn’t take this call, another one is only minutes away.

DEMS: …Hello?

Hillary: Hey baby.

DEMS: C’mon Hillary. Enough with this.

Hillary: Don’t you get it? You NEED me.

DEMS: No, I don’t. It was fun while it lasted but I’m with Barack now. I made my choice, it’s done.

Hillary: You can’t really mean that. How can you say that after all the good times we had?

DEMS: To be honest, I started hanging out with you because Bill’s pretty awesome.

Hillary: But I’m just like Bill!

DEMS: No, you’re not. Bill is charismatic, inspiring, and gets me really good weed.

Hillary: Fuck you. You’re elitist!

DEMS: I’m going back to sleep.

I have no idea who I will (or would) support in the general election, but that right there perfectly captures my view of HRC. One she’s earned.

A 114 Mile Century

It wasn’t the Three State Three Mountain Challenge, the ride I always did on this weekend when we lived in B’ham, but yesterday’s Tour De Goodwill was fun.

First, until yesterday I had never been able to ride my bike from my house to the start of the century. That extra distance, plus a slight detour on the route due to road construction, is what gave me the extra 14 miles.

Second, riding in your hometown century means you know many of the other riders. I always went by myself up to Chattanooga for the Three State Three Mountain. I would meet folks on the ride and talk about it with them, but that isn’t the same as experiencing it with the same guys you ride with every week.

Third, you don’t see much on this ride other than rolling hills and farms. No rivers or lakes or scenic views. Still, just outside Keatchie, La, we saw a yellow Camaro  with a lift kit, super swampers, and two snorkels. I wish I’d had my camera.

Fourth, the ride goes through Deadwood, Tx. I love that name. No whispering pines, or willow points, or shady acres, or oak hollows; it’s the anti-subdivision. (I also think there has to be some kind of viagra commercial in there somewhere.). The best part of the town, though, is the welcome sign, which reads:

Welcome to Deadwood

Home of 108 Happy People

And One Old Grouch

Finally, it was a ride of redemption.The only other time I did this ride was in August of 2005. Most miserable experience I ever had on a bike. The distance didn’t kill me, the temperature did: Mid eighties at the start, well over one hundred by the end. I will never forget sitting at the last rest stop, with twenty miles to go, a wet towel over my head thinking to myself “you’re gonna die, just let the support car take you home.” I decided on death before dishonor, though, and made it the whole way. But barely, it probably took me at least an hour and a half to do that final stretch. Yesterday, though, I was in a group of four that averaged about twenty two miles per hour for the last twenty miles. In other words, I felt good for the entire ride.

I Love Standardized Tests! I Love Field Day!

Not really. Field day was, like I predicted, total chaos, and I still hold to all my complaints about standardized tests. But . . .

1) My homeroom class, the War Hawks (their choice; I was thrilled they remembered something from class), are the 2007-2008 field day champions.

2) We received our standardized test scores today and I had more kids score at or above grade level than any other teacher in my school.

I don’t think I had much to do with either of those, but thanks to the latter, I’ll have much more leverage next year when I want to do stuff like skip faculty meetings and fail to submit lesson plans on time.

The Next Two Days At School

What’s happening: Field day tomorrow, a class trip Monday. You now know as much as I, or any other teacher at my school, does about these events.

O.K., I’m exaggerating, I know the destination of the trip. I do not know, though: When we leave, what kids are going, what they can wear, what we’re eating and where, what teachers are going, what time we’ll be back, what we are doing at the destination, or anything else. Ditto field day: Don’t know when it starts, when it ends, what part of campus it is on, what events we’re having, what we’re supposed to wear, what the kids can wear, what we’re doing about food, whether parents and others can come, or anything else.

Why is this a problem? Three reasons. One, I need structure. I plan everything. Life’s too short to leave stuff to chance. Two, and more importantly, short of cattle prods, the ONLY way to control middle schoolers is rigorous structure. You would be stunned at how much chaos twenty thirteen year olds can cause in ten seconds of unstructured time. They must have something to do at all times. Three, when tomorrow explodes, it will be all the fault of the teachers, because, as we are constantly told, we are supposed to “expect the unexpected.”

Then again, this might be better than what usually happens with special events at my school. Probably half the stuff we are told in writing will happen either never does, or does but at a different time than when we were told. I know things will be insane tomorrow, when the rug gets pulled out from under you, though, you were expecting solid footing.

The Funniest And Most Offensive Thing I’ve Heard This Week

At about the 2:30 mark of this, you’ll hear the Wait, Wait Don’t Tell Me take on a testy debate in Florida:

Senate lawmakers in Florida have voted to ban the fake bull testicles that dangle from the trailer hitches of many trucks and cars throughout the state.

Republican Sen. Cary Baker, a gun shop owner from Eustis, Florida, called the adornments offensive and proposed the ban. Motorists would be fined $60 for displaying the novelty items, which are known by brand names like “Truck Nutz” and resemble the south end of a bull moving north.

Peter Sagal and Drew Carey are hilarious, but the best part of the clip is knowing that these guys have never actually seen a pair of Ford Family Jewels (and if you have not, either, you can see them here). They might as well be discussing the mating rituals of some third world tribe of cannibals. Around here, of course, the Truck Nutz have eclipsed silhouettes of naked ladies and cartoons of Calvin peeing on the other truck company’s logo as the de rigueur redneck truck adornment.

The only way this could be any funnier is if the ban passed. The lawsuits would be fantastic. How awesome would it be to read the case of TruckNutz, Inc. v. State of Florida? Or the case in which a ticketed driver challenges the law? “Today we decide whether the First Amendment’s guarantee of freedom of expression includes a right to express one’s manliness by hanging fake testicles from a pickup truck.” I can only hope.