Back-to-school is awesome

In about 10 days, my kids will go back to school -- and just in case you run into them in the next week or so, please do me a favor.

Do not ask them if they are sad about it.

Seriously, until you pose that leading question, it never even occurs to them that they should be sad. In fact, they're actually quite excited about the start of a new school year -- just look at their happy faces on the first day last year.

Setting aside the hard reality that, for some kids, school is the one place where they feel safe, fed and cared for, let's remember the promise that comes with a fresh set of school supplies and a brand new year ahead.

Think about it -- they get to spend time with their friends learning interesting things from adults who care about them, they get to play sports and run around at recess, they get to read and draw and experiment and explore, they get to ask questions and investigate answers. What's not to love?

Now, will they be sad when the pool closes in a couple weeks? Yes. Will they wish they could have a few more lazy mornings watching last night's recorded Olympic events? Of course. Would they like an extra week's vacation at the beach? Obviously.

But they are not sad about going back to school.

When you ask them the question that way, it implies that school is boring or hard or generally not a nice place to be. When you ask that question, you put the idea in their head that perhaps they shouldn't be excited after all.

So instead, here's what you can ask them:

• What good books did you read this summer?
• What are you most excited about for the new school year?
• What did you miss about school over the summer?
• What advice do you have for someone starting school for the first time?
• What was your favorite adventure or experience while you were out of school?

I promise those questions will do a lot more to encourage them -- and the answers to those questions will be much more entertaining for you.

The truth about neighborhood schools

It's no surprise that respondents to a recent Charlotte-Mecklenburg Schools survey say they want their kids to attend school close to home. Of the more than 27,000 people who completed the survey, 86 percent said that a school's proximity to home is very or extremely important.

As a parent, I get that.

From a purely practical sense, being able to get to my kids' school in about 10 minutes certainly simplifies my life -- particularly on the days that I'm dropping them off in the morning, then back for a lunchtime reading group, then back again in the afternoon to pick them up. And knowing that my children don't have to spend an extra hour on the bus to get home each day certainly makes them happier.

What's important to note, though, is that the question specifically asked about the value of "location/proximity to home." It did not ask about "neighborhood schools." This may sound like semantics, but it's an important distinction.

While the question is fine, how the answer gets translated causes apples-to-oranges problems. My house is exactly one mile from two different elementary schools, although technically neither one is in my neighborhood. But the idea of having a school that belongs to the neighborhood where you live -- an idea fed by continued use of the phrase "neighborhood school" by media, researchers, parents and politicians alike -- is one that parents often cling to.

The real truth is that "neighborhood schools" -- that Norman Rockwell vision of every child in a 12-block radius skipping down the sidewalk to attend school together -- don't really exist for most families anymore. Just within the few blocks closest to my house, the elementary-aged kids attend two charter schools, three private schools, three magnet schools and two base schools. Particularly as districts like Wake County offer more theme-based and magnet programs and with the cap lifted on the number of charter schools that can open across the state, parents have more choices than ever -- and they're taking advantage of those choices to find the right fit for their families.

As education innovators try to move away from outdated classroom approaches that aren't preparing students for today's world, why should we cling to this Rockwell imagery that supports old thinking?

Here are some other problems with the notion of "neighborhood schools"...

• Neighborhoods tend to be economically isolated -- that's not really news, but it does impact school demographics. In recent years, the Charlotte area was named on the top 10 list of large metros where the wealthy are most geographically segregated and Raleigh isn't dramatically better. That means that pulling a school's population from within a specific neighborhood is likely to give you only a specific economic group. That tends to create a system of low-poverty schools and high-poverty schools.
• If your high-poverty neighborhood creates a high-poverty school (those that serve more than 50 percent of students on free and reduced-price lunch), you're more likely to have higher teacher turnover rates, lower volunteer rates and lower academic scores (see here and here). In North Carolina's new letter grade system, schools' grades essentially became a proxy for poverty levels. Note that it's not a question about how successful low-income students can be -- it's an issue of how well a low-income school can function.
• Researchers have documented that students’ exposure to other students who are different from themselves and the novel ideas and challenges that such exposure brings leads to improved cognitive skills, including critical thinking and problem solving. Creating diverse schools -- racially and socioeconomically integrated -- results in benefits for students as well as the communities they live in.
• In the same CMS survey, more than 70 percent of respondents said they valued exposure to children from diverse racial, ethnic and socioeconomic backgrounds. Wanting proximity to home doesn't mean that respondents don't care about diversity. 

Now what?

Unfortunately, I don't have an easy answer, any more than I did six years ago when my son was in kindergarten or 20 years ago (gulp) when I was teaching in a predominantly black high school. But I do have a suggestion:

Stop complicating the matter by continuing to use the phrase "neighborhood schools" -- the term is loaded with more baggage than any kid can cram into a backpack and suggests an us vs. them divide that won't help any community.  (I'm looking at you, reporters, researchers, politicians and even parents.)

Instead, let's try the following:

• Talk about student assignment plans that minimize travel time from home as much as is reasonable without isolating students into neighborhoods.
• Allow educators to focus on how we can get the best academic and social learning experience for all students. 
• Engage parents, businesses and communities in the conversation about how to ensure successful graduates -- check out this Wake County event on April 29.
• Start building up our whole community rather than walling off into subdivisions.

How do you grade a school? See for yourself.

Yesterday morning, a friend texted me following a tour of our assigned middle school. Our oldest kids are slated to go there after next school year -- she's planning ahead, visiting magnet schools as well as our base school.

Her text: "VERY impressed!"

After her visit, my friend happily talked about "the spirit" of the school and how the students were "so proud and so excited." When's the last time you saw middle schoolers excited about school? That sense of community, combined with a growing engineering program, connections with NC State and enthusiastic teachers is what won her over.

This morning, the newspaper ran a full-page listing of the letter grades assigned yesterday to all public schools in North Carolina for the first time. According to that report, this same school is a D.

So who's right?

I'm betting on the assessment made after actually going to the school, hearing from the students and talking to the teachers. That barely passing grade from the state is calculated using only last year's scores on end-of-grade reading and math tests (80%) and a small measure of student academic growth (20%) -- it doesn't come close to capturing the full picture of what students and teachers are accomplishing in the school, where more than half the population lives in poverty.

In a statement Thursday about the grades, Senator Pro Tem Phil Berger (R) basically attacked anyone questioning the validity of the labels. "We’re troubled by early knee-jerk reactions that appear to condemn poor children to automatic failure," Berger said. "And we reject the premise that high poverty schools are incapable of excelling, since today’s report shows numerous examples that are proving that myth wrong. We must give these grades a chance to work so we can learn from them and improve outcomes for our children.” (WRAL)

Berger seems to think that it's the grades that will change the schools, not leadership development, instructional supports or professional salaries for teachers. Despite Berger's allegation, no one believes that "high poverty schools are incapable" -- but decades of research and observation tell us that poverty creates challenges and obstacles to effective teaching and learning that have to be overcome. Slapping a letter grade on a school won't change that.

Rep. Craig Horn (R), chairman of the House K-12 education committee, acknowledges that the formula might need to be adjusted, but says the letter grades are easy for parents to understand. "At least A, B, C, D and F, people have a much more definitive idea of how that school is performing and will make judgments accordingly," Horn said (WRAL).

It's exactly those "judgements" that scare me.

When parents see a D or F assigned to a school, it will be easy to remove that school from the consideration set. But when parents make decisions about whether or not to send their children to a certain school based only on that letter grade, they could be missing out on a great school. That decision can quickly turn into a vicious cycle for the school, where reputation becomes reality as more parents with the means to make different choices opt out of the school.

That's not what I want for any school -- but especially not for the school my son is likely to attend in another year, a school that has worked hard to become a popular choice after spending years rumored as a school to avoid.

Even Republican Senator Jerry Tillman, sponsor of the original bill calling for performance grades, predicted that the grades "may fall along demographic lines." Then the senator, also a former public school administrator, added this surprising statement: "If that's the case, I will be pushing to see some changes. I'd rather be in a D school making great growth than in an A school where growth is stagnant. I know if these kids are growing, there has to be good teaching and good leadership for that to be occurring." (The N&O)

I don't expect to see changes to the law any time soon -- Sen. Tillman acknowledged as much, and Sen. Berger is far too pleased with the law as it stands.

What I hope, though, is that parents and community members won't judge schools by this law. I hope that they will take the time to walk into these schools and judge for themselves. Look for the good teaching and good leadership that Sen. Tillman referenced. Get a sense of the community in the school, watch how students interact with each other and with their teachers.

The feeling you have inside the school will tell you far more than any letter grade -- regardless of what that letter happens to be.

To Teachers, With Love

The 11^th grade students who were in my class during my first year as a high school English teacher are now in their mid-30s. Most of them I lost touch with after they graduated, but a handful kept up with me over the years or found me later on Facebook. A few were in college in the same program where I attended graduate school, passing me in the halls now and then. A couple are still on my Christmas card list.

Earlier this month, as I got in line to pay for my pre-snowstorm eggs and milk, I ran into one of those former students, now a mother of two and a teacher herself. We hugged each other and laughed about how we were both buying groceries in advance of the snow predictions.

“Have you met M before?” she asked, motioning to the man behind her.

“I don’t think I have,” I said, introducing myself to her husband and shaking his hand.

“No, this is S__,” she said to him, emphasizing the name they called me back in 11^th grade.

His eyes brightened with recognition and he pulled me into a bear hug. He knew who I was – and in a good way. He knew my name, 18 years after she was in my class.

That afternoon, she posted a sweet note on Facebook about our chance meeting. When I went online to “like” her post, another former student – one that I hadn’t kept up with – had already left a comment: “Wow! She was a great teacher!”

I almost printed it out and framed it for my wall.

Today, North Carolina’s governor announced a 14 percent pay increase over the next two years for beginning teachers, bringing starting teacher salaries above those of neighboring states. The plan sounds like a good start, but doesn’t offer anything for mid-career and veteran teachers already in the classroom. That may help with recruitment, but it doesn’t do much to retain or respect teachers in the trenches -- teachers who haven't had a real raise in more than five years.

Most teachers will tell you they didn’t go into the profession for the paycheck – it’s not exactly news that teaching isn’t a lucrative career (click here for the 2013-14 salary schedule in NC). But it is a profession – one that requires a college degree, licensing exams and coursework for continued certification. And it’s a job path that ought to provide a living that doesn’t include qualifying for federal aid programs to feed your children.

So while we wait for our policy makers to find the will – and the funds – to pay teachers what they’re worth, we can all show a little love to the teachers who have made a difference. You may not have the chance to run into them at the grocery store or on Facebook, but you can still thank them for all that they do.

Over the past couple weeks, teachers (and those who love them) have turned to Twitter using #evaluatethat to share the many ways – big and small – that teachers make a difference in students’ lives. The hashtag takes a swipe at the notion that standardized tests and evaluation formulas can assess a teacher’s quality and effectiveness.

Take a moment to tweet your own #evaluatethat story, write a note to your child’s teacher, or track down that educator who made a difference for you. Feeling appreciated and valued won’t help teachers pay their bills, but it sure still feels good – even 18 years later.

To Cancel School or Not to Cancel School...

In a big district like Wake County – with more than 153,000 students in 170 schools scattered across 857 square miles – there is probably only one job worse than being the person in charge of student assignment: 

Being the person in charge of cancelling school due to inclement weather.

Last night, as our local meteorologists sent everyone racing to the store for bread, milk, eggs and wine (the essentials, assuming you already have a stockpile of chocolate), the Wake County Public School System went ahead and canceled school for today. 

As of 4 p.m., when the school day would have been over across the entire county, we still hadn’t seen the first snowflake. We finally saw a few flurries just after 5:00.

For parents whose days were turned topsy-turvy (or worse) with kids at home, it was frustrating knowing we could have had a completely normal (albeit very cold) day. Instead, we have a snow make-up day for a day that didn’t include snow.

So here’s what makes that job – the one that has to make the call about if and when to cancel school – so terrible. If they hadn’t cancelled school and the snow started at noon (as was possible, according to the weather maps), parents would have been furious that kids were put on buses after the weather started to turn instead of before. You can’t win for losing.

As much as I wish we’d had school today so that I could have had a normal day at work, I don’t blame WCPSS at all for the decision they made. Here’s why:

1. Wake County runs a multi-tier bus system – that means that one set of buses picks up a round of kids and takes them to school, then picks up another round of kids and takes them to school. Then they refuel and do the whole thing in reverse. On early release days, our school starts at 8:30 and gets out at 12:30 – I think that’s about as tight a turn-around as the buses can manage, meaning the last schools are released at 1:15. If the snow had started at noon as predicted, that would have been too late.
   
2. I’m still scarred from January 2005 when a fraction of an inch of snow fell in the early afternoon, immediately turned to ice, and caused total gridlock across the county. My usual 15-minute drive home from work took three hours – and I had to walk the last few blocks, pregnant and frozen, because I couldn’t get my car up the icy hill around the corner from my house. As it turned out, three hours was a blessing – many people spent upwards of eight hours stuck in their cars while some children (and their teachers or administrators) spent the night at school when their parents weren’t able to get there to pick them up. Ask the people in Atlanta today if they know what I’m talking about. 

Now at 9 p.m., it’s still snowing – although it’s a wimpy sort of snow so far. With any luck, there will be enough to justify suiting up to go out and play tomorrow (obviously school is cancelled again) – but not so much to cause that poor person to have to cancel school again on Thursday.

PS: If you’re not following @wcpss on Twitter yet, you might be the only one. Go follow them now.

PSS: That's Junius earlier today (in the photo), wearing his snow pants over his pajama pants, coat at the ready. You know, just in case.

Choosing Kindergarten

When I was a senior in high school, I applied and was accepted to four universities. That was great – except that the only one I could afford to go to was my last choice.

Thankfully my last choice was still a very good option and it only took about two weeks on campus before I was completely on board. By the end of my freshman year, I couldn’t imagine ever going to the other three schools.

What I learned through that experience (among other things) is that college was ultimately what I made it. If I showed up ready, made an effort in my classes, talked with my professors, spent time making good friends and really invested in the school, then I was going to love it.

I feel the same way about my kids’ elementary school – and I want to say that to parents of rising kindergartners around the county as they fret over choosing the right school for their children. 

It’s time for families in Wake County to register for kindergarten, a milestone packed with emotion. And here, in addition to the angst over letting your little person spend the better part of five days a week with kids and adults you’ve never met, there’s the added stress of deciding on which school(s) to choose -- or wondering if you really even have a choice. We’re lucky here to have a lot of good options, but that creates its own challenges.

All over the district, parents are touring magnet schools, visiting their base school and weighing a host of other options both public and private -- although depending on where they live and what their circumstances are, some may have more real choices than others. A few years ago I was where they are now and I remember how worried I was about making just the right choice – a choice that was ultimately controlled by where the district had space for us.

Now that we’ve been in two different elementary schools over the past four years (through our choice, not a reassignment), I can see that we are fortunate to be in the same position I was as a high school senior. All of our options were good ones – some a better fit than others, but none of them bad. And ultimately what we – both the kids and our whole family – get out of the school is based on what we put into it.

Our children showed up prepared for school – a luxury that not every child starts with, I realize. My kids make an effort in their classes, learning to read and write, add and multiply, think and talk. They’ve made friends, in class and on the playground – and we’ve made parent friends, too, helping on field trips or waiting at school pick-up. As a family, we have invested in elementary school, not just through our donations to the PTA, but with our time and energy, through our communications with teachers, in our conversations at home with our kids.

So if you’re one of these parents in the midst of school decisions, here are a few thoughts:

• It’s okay to feel overwhelmed. This is a big deal.
• Kindergarten rocks. It’s absolutely incredible to watch those little people grow.
• Go visit all the schools you’re interested in. There’s a lot you can learn from the way a school feels when you walk through it.
• Talk with parents whose kids actually attend the school. Don’t put stock in hearsay and rumors. 
• Know that every school will have teachers you love and others who aren’t as good a fit for your child. No school is perfect, not even Hogwarts.
• Keep in mind that numbers – test scores, demographics and the rest – only tell part of the story. Don’t make assumptions.
• Remember that your attitude toward the school sets the tone for your child. 
• Trust that if you invest in your school, you’ll get a great return. 

Oh, and pack some tissues for yourself on the first day of school. It’s a doozy – but it’s worth it.

More thoughts on kindergarten and school choice:

• Redshirting in Kindergarten
• The Burden of Making Decisions 

Being in the Bee

Junius participated in his first schoolwide spelling bee tonight. He made it through the first round with confidence, then got nervous in the second round and spelled his word how it sounded instead of how it is spelled – “mortle” instead of “mortal.”  He was a good sport about it and stayed until the end to watch two older girls duke it out through more than a dozen final rounds before they finally got to the winner.

He looked really little up there. Only one other boy was his size, with a couple others who were close. When he went out in round two, I was a little sad – mostly because there were many other words in that round and the following round that I knew he could spell. But he was fine. And he was up there, trying and smiling, and that’s what counts.

The post below is something I wrote after the practice last week. I think it still says what matters.

* * *

Tonight Junius had a practice session for next week’s spelling bee. He was the first alternate for his class and the 2nd place finisher can't make it, so he got called up -- at his school, they let the first and second place spellers from each class participate in the school wide bee. 

I realize it was just a meeting -- a review of the rules and then a run-through using 1st grade words so that all the kids would understand the process and test out spelling into the microphone -- but I was so proud of him. As a young 3rd grader, he was one of only a few boys there and one of the smallest kids, but he marched right up to that microphone in his Panthers jersey, repeated the word, spelled it and said it one more time like he’s been in a spelling bee every day for a year. Whatever, Mom.

I’m used to seeing him be tough at hockey or basketball. He might not be the biggest or the fastest kid on the team (although sometimes he is), but he’s always in it to win it-- or at least to have a great time trying. I don’t often get to see him compete on his own in an academic setting. And when he’s not playing sports, he quickly turns shy in front of an audience. But not tonight.

Ironically, his practice word was “shy.”

I'm sure it makes me more than a little dorky, but the whole thing was awesome. Totally nerdtastic, and I would know.

When I was in 5th grade, I competed in my school’s spelling bee. It was a K-8 school, so I had to spell against older kids who didn’t expect me to do well. That only made it more satisfying when I won the whole thing. (I lost in a very early round at the next level, so my moment of glory was extremely short-lived.)

I don’t expect him to win the school spelling bee. But as a mama who makes her living using the right words and spelling them correctly, it warms my heart more than a little to see my sporty boy enjoying the spelling bee limelight.

Vote Yes for Wake County

What if the ceiling in your office leaked every time it rained, leaving your papers and books almost always slightly damp?

What if you had to evacuate your office in the middle of the work day because the HVAC unit on the roof above you caught fire on occasion?

What if, when the HVAC wasn't on fire, it simply didn't work sometimes, leaving you sweating in the summer and freezing in the winter without notice?

What if you had to squeeze in an extra five coworkers into your cubicle? Or what if you didn't even have your own desk, but instead just traveled around your office to whatever space was available at that moment?

Now imagine that your job is going to school -- as a student or a teacher -- under those conditions every day. And for some in Wake County's public schools, they don't have to imagine it because they're living it. That's not what I want for my kids or for the rest of the children and educators in Wake County.

Thankfully, we have an opportunity to change those conditions. 

Next Tuesday, October 8, Wake County votes can say "YES" to an $810 million bond issue that would allow the county to borrow money to pay for school construction, renovations and technology.

Here are the facts:

• The plan was proposed by the county board of education and approved by the county commissioners -- it may be one of the few things that the two boards agree on. 
• Bonds are the smartest way to pay for construction and renovations, in the same way that most families use a mortgage to pay for their homes. Wake County has a triple-A bond rating from all three national rating agencies -- the highest possible rating -- which allows the county to get the best interest rates.
• A little more than half of Wake’s 170 schools would share in $244.9 million for renovations. That includes six schools getting major renovations and 79 schools getting small amounts to replace aging equipment, such as work on HVAC systems, electrical systems and roofing. Thousands of children are spending their days in these buildings -- they deserve a space that allows them to succeed at their job as students.
• One of the schools slated for major renovations is Green Elementary, where the media center roof leaked and the HVAC caught on fire when Junius was in first grade. Again, they're not talking about putting in marble floors in the gym and a chocolate fountain in the cafeteria -- it's about creating a safe and productive learning environment for children.
• The $810 million bond issue would cover most of a $939.9 million school construction program. Of that, $533.75 million would pay for 16 new schools to help keep up with enrollment projections.
• Wake County grows by an average of 64 people each day (that's about three kindergarten classrooms) -- the recession slowed growth some in recent years, but it hasn't stopped people from coming to the area. The county expects to pass the 1 million mark in just two years.
• Wake is already the 16th largest school district in the nation with more than 150,000 students. More than 20,000 new students are expected by 2018; more than 30,000 by 2020.  Since our last bond in 2006, Wake County has added more than 170,000 people -- and they are still coming.
• To accommodate this growth, the proposed building program includes 11 new elementary schools, three middle schools, and two high schools to be built in the next five years.
• Charter and private schools can accommodate only a small portion of the student population, even with the recent growth in charter options. 
• Even if you don't have students in Wake's public schools, living in a high quality district benefits your quality of life -- from the resale value of your home to the caliber of graduates living in your community.
• The bond would result in an increase in county property taxes; the owner of a home assessed for taxes at $263,500 (the average value of a Wake County home) would pay an additional $11.52 per month. That seems a small price to pay for schools that work.
• Voting against the bond doesn't mean that there will be more money for other things, like teacher salaries or special programs. School construction and teacher pay (as strange as it may sound) aren't connected and don't come from the same place. Bond money can only be used for capital expenses, meaning school construction, renovation and technology. Paying for those capital costs without the bond will either end up costing more or force the district to cancel some of the plans -- or both.

Mark your calendar, set a reminder on your phone or put a post-it note in your car -- but just don't forget to vote on Tuesday. There are at least 153,152 reasons to vote yes, with more on the way.

Click here to learn more about the bond and click here for information about voting.

Note: Current student enrollment numbers updated on 10/4/13 based on 10th day totals.

Moral Monday: Paying for Good Schools

In my previous job, I had the good fortune to find myself often attending meetings with Dudley Flood. You can read his full bio here, but he's served in a range of education roles from 8th grade teacher to associate superintendent for the NC Department of Public Instruction, where he retired in 1990. He holds degrees in education from NC Central University, East Carolina University and Duke University. In short, he's got the credentials and the experience to know what he's talking about when it comes to education.

But beyond his resume, Dr. Flood is a great storyteller -- and he weaves a fascinating tale of what he's seen over decades of involvement in public education. One of my favorite comments that I recall hearing in his speeches goes something like this:

People always say you can't just throw money at a problem. But just once, I'd like to try it out and see what happens.

That's what I want to say to our state legislature this week, as they prepare to pass a budget that strips ever more funding away from our public schools. Actually, what I really want to say to them isn't fit to print, so I'll just start with that.

Now of course, I don't actually mean throw the money. I don't mean like a pinata where the kids scramble to stuff their pockets with loose change.

What I mean is this: What would happen if we funded public education so that:

• Teachers were paid as true professionals, particularly those with graduate degrees and extensive experience, to demonstrate the value of the job?
• Schools were built to comfortably seat all the students and provide adequate teaching space for all classes?
• Schools struggling to meet students' needs got extra assistance, including instructional coaches, literacy specialists and customized professional development for all faculty and staff?
• Classes were small enough for teachers to be able to differentiate instruction and really address students' needs, or teacher assistants staffed most classrooms to supplement instruction and help manage the workload?

I want to know what that would look like. I want my tax dollars to go toward making those things happen. I want to live in a state that makes those kind of commitments.

But instead, North Carolina gets a General Assembly that:

• Eliminates salary increases for teachers with advanced degrees starting in 2014 and teachers have only had one pay increase (a measly 1.2%) since 2008. Because why would you want to encourage and reward educators for pursuing more education? They're only teaching your children, after all.
• Argues to remove building authority from local school boards, threatening the passage of upcoming school bonds (thankfully it appears this bill is dead, although it's had more lives than a cat).
• Funds a $10 million voucher program (in the first year) to give some families "a way out" to leave for private schools without addressing any of the problems or challenges facing students and teachers in the public schools left behind.
• Removes caps on class sizes and eliminates teacher assistants in 2nd and 3rd grades. If you've ever been the only adult in a room with 30 seven-year-olds for more than an hour, you know this is a bad idea.

It may be true that throwing money around won't fix anything. But depriving schools of the basics needed to get the job done sure as hell doesn't solve anything either.

Instead, targeting money at real solutions could make a world of difference: Ensuring teachers earn enough money that their children don't qualify for medicaid, constructing facilities that get students out of trailers and into well-equipped classrooms, coaching schools in research-based practices to make them more effective at reaching every child, creating environments that encourage learning and generate productive working conditions.

That's not throwing money around -- that's called investing.

Moral Monday: Safe Schools

I wasn't at yesterday's Moral Monday rally. But that doesn't mean I'm not outraged. Unfortunately, much of what I'm worked up about won't fit on a protest sign. Starting this week, I'm going to attempt a Monday post in solidarity with those protesting at the NC legislature -- I realize it's not the same as getting arrested for the cause, but at least it's something.

So much in education policy seems to fall according to political lines. Democrats want more funding; Republicans want more competition. Democrats claim schools are doing well; Republicans claim schools are failing. Democrats want to believe that the latest big idea will save public schools; Republicans want to close them all down.

Okay, that's a wild exaggeration. But you get the idea.

The sad thing is that I honestly believe most Republicans and Democrats -- and the Independents and unaffiliated -- want the same big-picture things when it comes to public education. Safe schools. Quality instruction. Graduates with marketable skills.

Of course, the devil is in the details.

When I hear my state legislature talk about placing armed security guards in schools at the same time they want to cut teacher assistant positions from the budget and increase class sizes, I know they've completely missed the point. You simply can't cut teacher and teacher assistant positions and claim to want safe schools.

For a moment, let's forget about the academic, social or emotional reasons why you might want your young child to be in a elementary classroom with, say, 20 classmates, a licensed teacher and a licensed teacher assistant -- forget about the opportunities for enrichment or additional support. And forget about the professional reasons why you might want a teacher to have working conditions that don't include managing, say, 28 six-year-olds without any additional staff.

For a moment, let's just think about this in terms of security. Having more teachers in the classroom helps keep children safe.

In catastrophic situations, teacher assistants make it possible to protect more children. Think back to some of the horrific school tragedies of the past year in places like Newtown, Connecticut, or Moore, Oklahoma, where teachers, counselors and administrators risked their own lives to protect the children in their schools.

One of the recurring thoughts for me as I read all the stories of heroism shining out on those unspeakably dark days is, "How do you decide?" If you're the teacher in those classrooms, how do you decide which kids you can hold onto in the storm or which ones you can hide in the closet while the school is in lockdown.

Extreme? Sure, and thankfully so. But it's still our reality.

Even under more ordinary circumstances -- ones where students are misbehaving, bullying or (in today's softer parenting language) simply "making bad choices" -- teacher assistants make a difference for security. It can be challenging for teachers to ensure that all students feel safe when it's a large class and there's no teacher assistant.

Another professional adult who also knows the students well -- not just a parent volunteer (as great as they can be) -- makes it possible for one teacher to address the threat while the other adult continues to lead the class. Anytime you can have another set of eyes, ears and hands in the classroom, every child is safer.

So here's my proposal for the Republican-led legislature and Governor's office as they hash out this proposed budget... Remember all that talk about wanting to ensure that our schools are safe places to learn? How about you connect that rhetoric with your speeches about job creation and start by finding funds to hire even more teacher assistants to help staff North Carolina's classrooms.

On School Buildings and Why You Should Care

Powerful teaching and learning.

That's what I want my children to experience at school. That's what I want all children and teachers to experience at school. That's what I want the school board to focus on.

So if what I want is a Board of Education talking about powerful teaching and learning, then why do I care if my local school board retains control of school buildings? Because school facilities cannot be separated from academics -- an adequate and appropriate learning environment is a critical element of student success.

Senate Bill 236, sponsored by Sens. Neal Hunt (Wake), Tom Apodaca (Henderson) and Pete Brunstetter (Forsyth), would give county commissioners the authority to assume responsibility for the design, construction, maintenance, renovation, acquisition and ownership of school properties. Currently in North Carolina's 100 counties, the county board of commissioners provides the funding for school property purchases and construction (because they possess taxing authority and the school board does not), but the county board of education is responsible for the design, construction and ownership of school facilities. This divide, sometimes awkward and often contentious, is unusual -- more than 90 percent of school districts in the nation have fiscal independence (meaning they have taxing authority to fund their own budget).

The proposed legislation would allow all North Carolina county commissions to seize property currently owned by school boards --some county commissions might take advantage of that option now (as appears to be the case in Wake County), while others could decline for now and exercise the right at any point in the future.

I'm writing from the perspective of a Wake County resident (the bill started in the fight between the school board and the county commission in Wake), but this proposed legislation makes it an issue for the entire state. Here's why this bill is a bad idea:

• School buildings are about education, not real estate. Numerous studies have demonstrated the link between student achievement/behavior and the physical building conditions for students and teachers. Everything from lighting and paint to ventilation and HVAC impacts student success in a school. Think that sounds crazy? Imagine how effective you'd be at work if your office roof leaked onto your desk, your work space was too cramped to be functional, the heat stopped working and you had no access to natural light all day. Each student will spend more than 16,000 hours in these buildings before graduation -- teachers and principals will spend many more than that over their careers. They deserve dynamic spaces that encourage growth, creativity and intellect, not another obstacle to success.
• Education decisions aren't business decisions. Sen. Hunt likes to argue that business people do a better job of managing real estate decisions than educators do -- and he has some lovely (but misleading) pie charts to show his analysis of the level of business experience on county commissions versus school boards. But schools are in the business of educating children, not making profits and paying shareholders. School boards must be fiscally responsible, but student achievement should be their bottom line. I don't want the cheapest school possible; I want the best educational environment for my money. Even the Greater Raleigh Chamber of Commerce -- an entire organization of business people -- is opposed to this bill. And because county commissions already control the purse strings in North Carolina, they don't need this bill to manage the money.
• Experience matters. The Wake County Public School System (WCPSS) is an award-winning district when it comes to building design -- including nods from the American Institute of Architects (AIA) and the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA). Decades of experience inform the school board policy that defines design guidelines for school construction to ensure an effective learning environment, including everything from windows in classrooms to the size of science labs. School boards -- the elected officials closest to the classroom -- are in the best position to understand the complex requirements for a successful school. The county commissioners do not have a similarly strong track record with large building projects on this scale.
• The user, not the owner assumes liability. There are unanswered questions in the proposed legislation around liability issues. The county commission wants the option to assume ownership, but they do not appear eager to assume any liability related to the buildings or the property. Because of the vagueness of the bill (whether intentional or not), school boards would still be liable for incidents on school property. In other words, school boards would be surrendering their expertise in design decisions as well as their power to impose risk management strategies during the design and construction processes, but still be held accountable for injuries sustained on school grounds. Not only is this bad policy, this uncertainly could result in poor bond ratings for the entire system (poor bond ratings make construction more expensive).
• Checks and balances lead to better decisions. Leaving funding authority with the county commission maintains their control over taxing and bond decisions. Leaving design, construction and maintenance responsibilities with the school board maintains their control over the connection between school facilities and academic factors, student assignment, overcrowding, feeder patterns between grade levels and infrastructure needs to support teachers and students. Neither group holds all the power, resulting in a level of accountability that would disappear under the proposed legislation.
• Politics are contentious enough. Given the division of authority between the school board and the county commission, there's already plenty for them to argue over in budget and bond decisions. This bill does nothing to solve the current challenges and actually makes them worse by removing those responsible for the schools from the process of creating them. In Davie County, just southwest of Winston-Salem, the school district can't get county commissioners to agree to fund the building of a second high school or renovations to the existing high school despite the fact that an independent analysis by the state (and any parent walking into the building) identified a desperate need (more on this from the W-S Journal and a Davie County blogger). 
• Sales tax exemption isn't a good reason. Sen. Hunt argues that school boards pay more for construction because they have to pay sales tax on purchases, while county commissions are exempt. However, until 2005, local boards of education were able to use tax refunds. Many other groups, including cities, counties, public universities, private schools and other non-profits, can apply for a sales tax refund or exemption. If Sen. Hunt really wants to propose a useful bill for education facilities, he and the state legislature could eliminate this change and make local education authorities tax-exempt again.

There is one thing that Sen. Hunt and I agree on: school boards need to be able to focus on education. Unfortunately, he and Senate Bill 236 will cripple their ability to do just that.

Special thanks to Jennifer Brock, a Raleigh-based architect with years of experience in school design and mother of four WCPSS students, for her professional advising on this post.

If you'd like to write to your legislators on this issue, visit Wake Classrooms Count (if you're a Wake County resident) or search for your people here. Or use this list to email the members of the Senate Education Committee: Dan.Soucek@ncleg.net, Jerry.Tillman@ncleg.net, Chad.Barefoot@ncleg.net, Austin.Allran@ncleg.net, Tom.Apodaca@ncleg.net, Tamara.Barringer@ncleg.net, Harry.Brown@ncleg.net, Angela.Bryant@ncleg.net, Bill.Cook@ncleg.net, David.Curtis@ncleg.net, Warren.Daniel@ncleg.net, Don.Davis@ncleg.net, Malcolm.Graham@ncleg.net, Fletcher.Hartsell@ncleg.net, Clark.Jenkins@ncleg.net, Martin.Nesbitt@ncleg.net, Buck.Newton@ncleg.net, Earline.Parmon@ncleg.net, Louis.Pate@ncleg.net, Ron.Rabin@ncleg.net, Gladys.Robinson@ncleg.net, Bob.Rucho@ncleg.net, Josh.Stein@ncleg.net, Jeff.Tarte@ncleg.net, Trudy.Wade@ncleg.net, Mike.Woodard@ncleg.net

Catching Up

Hey friends... still here. Hope you are, too.

I have about 427 posts rattling around in my head and enough time to sit down and write about none of them. This makes me sad, except that I guess it's a good to thing to have a paying job, a freelance gig, two active children, a fabulous husband and a neighborhood full of awesome that are all keeping me busy.

So I figure I'll try to get back into a blogging rhythm by catching you up on some of the latest developments from recent posts at my convertible life...

1. Winners! Thanks to all of you who voted (or tried to vote) for our Instagram photo in the Thomasville Furniture Facebook contest. Courtesy of your clicks and my husband's genius, we won! Now we have to figure out which of the fantastic sectional sofas they're offering will actually fit in our strangely long and narrow family room. Will invite you all over for a sit once we get it in the house.
2. Calming down. After lots of reading and conversation, I've talked myself off the ledge following the superintendent's firing. I still think it was really poor timing and very poorly executed, but I'm willing to accept that there were real problems that we didn't see from the outside (interesting article here) . I've still got a lot of questions -- just hoping that the school board gets themselves together quickly. Bob Geary at The Independent said it all better than I can.
3. Assignment 2.1. Post-firing, the school board found itself a miracle -- agreement on student assignment. Okay, not all of student assignment, but at least agreement that they needed to revert to the previous base school assignments instead of the new proposed ones. It actually didn't change anything much for my house, but it made a big difference for most of my neighborhood.
4. Remodeling genius. I don't really know how this started, but I've had thousands of hits on this post over the past month via Pinterest. The post, which is almost a year old, includes a photo of how we (and by "we" I mean "our fantastic finish carpenter") built a corner separation using molding between the family room and the kitchen. Apparently there are a LOT of people who needed this tip. And you're welcome.

And now I'm out of time again. 

Just know that I miss y'all and our virtual conversations. Thanks for hanging in there with me.

Vacancy: Leadership of the Wake County Public School System

I keep peeking out my window for a glimpse of the airborne porcine wonder.

Because any day when I find myself agreeing with Paul Coble and John Tedesco is a day when pigs are flying, hell is freezing over and the end must be fast approaching.

This afternoon the Wake County Board of Education voted to remove Superintendent Tony Tata. I'll be the first to admit that I was skeptical (to put it politely) about him when he was hired. With only four months of education experience in the Washington, D.C., school system, the retired army general was one of those Outsiders Who Can Fix Public Education. As a former teacher, I generally bristle at the notion that someone with little or no education experience is somehow more qualified to run one of the nation's largest school districts.

But my sense of Superintendent Tata -- and what I believe the majority of the general public sees -- is a man who has (for the most part) kept a calm, professional face on what has been a ridiculously crazy school system. Since he was hired, he has followed the direction of the Board of Education, calmed some of the initial chaos with the old board, continued to work with the new board when they were elected (minus an embarrassing name-calling issue with a few members that showed poor judgement but for which he publicly apologized) and generally embraced the idea of innovation to move the district forward. I don't necessarily love Tony Tata, but I have no reason to hate him.

When the district was mired in a school bus disaster at the beginning of this year, Tata stood up, took responsibility and started working on a solution. He might not have made everyone happy, but I haven't seen grounds for immediate dismissal. I've heard rumors that he has bullied principals and undermined school board members, but none of that hearsay has been confirmed by any credible sources. (And if I learned one thing in journalism school, it's verify -- if your mother says she loves you, check it out.) I've heard just as many stories about parents commending him for his responsiveness.

The school board members who voted Tata out of a job today are the ones that I voted and campaigned for. I want to believe that they know things -- real, substantial, documented, horrible things -- that I don't know. I want to defend the district and the board and encourage people to believe that our school system is making decisions that benefit all students. I want to trust that all of this chaos is heading toward the right solution.

But from where I sit, it's really hard to imagine what's worth a $253,625 buy-out and yet another massive distraction from what the board should actually be talking about: teaching and learning.

Our kids deserve better. Our teachers and principals deserve better. Our community deserves better.

Instead of focusing on student achievement, teaching quality and what's going inside our county's classrooms, I'm thinking about who is going to fill the void. Who in the hell is out there with an ego big enough to want the job of Wake County Superintendent or an ego small enough to actually be able to handle it?

Student Assignment 2.0

The devil is in the details.

That ought to be the tagline for the Wake County student assignment plan.

The latest twist in the on-going (and seemingly impossible) search for the perfect plan involved returning a base school assignment tied to each address in the county. Until last year, every house in the district was automatically assigned to a specific school -- if you didn't apply to a magnet school or some other option, then that's where your kids went to school (we'll call this Old Plan).

For this year's plan (we'll call it New Plan 1.0), the school board did away with base assignments, having every family rank their preferred schools from a list of options (based on your address) and then placing them depending on certain criteria and available seats. Doing so gave the district more flexibility in filling available seats and avoiding wildly overcrowded schools.

Real estate agents (as a group) and some families protested this element of the new plan, saying it was unreasonable for newcomers to the area to be able to buy a house without knowing  where their kids would go to school. The new approach also meant that, depending on a variety of factors, it was possible to live across the street from a school and not get a seat there. You can see why people were frustrated.

So this summer the school board instructed district staff to revise New Plan 1.0 to reinstate base assignments tied to addresses. And regardless of the plan, they've promised to allow anyone already in a school to stay at that school until they graduate. Sounds like they're being responsive to legitimate complaints and frustrations, right?

Enter those devilish details.

Because when the district released the base assignment plan (we'll call it New Plan 2.0) on Friday, it turns out that they didn't simply go back to the school assignments that people remembered from Old Plan. In some cases, they got new assignments that pulled them away from where they were used to attending. And that left lots of people with a big surprise (translation: trauma) when they plugged their address into the online school finder Friday night..

So while I'm quoting cliches, I'll add You Can't Win for Losing as the clear motto for the Wake County Public School System. Seems that every time they try to adjust for one problem, they create six new ones in its place.

This scenario may not have played out in every neighborhood, but I don't think mine is the only one. With New Plan 2.0, here's what I think the school district was trying to do:
a. Keep a whole neighborhood together instead of splitting between two elementary schools.
b. Keep people at schools close to home, even if not at their absolute closest school.
c. Connect elementary schools to middle schools on the same calendar.
d. Relieve overcrowding at one school to fill empty seats at another school.

These all sound like good things, except that (ah, there's those details again) their solution was to assign most of my neighbors to:
a. A different school than the one they (or their address) have attended for many, many years.
b. An elementary school that is less than 2 miles away but would require riding the bus or at least crossing a very busy 6-lane street with no crossing guard instead of the school that they can currently walk less than a mile to.
c. A middle school that is 9 miles away and on a year-round calendar even though there's a traditional calendar middle school in our walk zone.

Yeah. They're not happy.

There are bigger policy issues at stake here -- how do we ensure that every school is a great school, how do we support teachers and principals to do great work, how do we help students get the attention and services they need, how do we ensure that no school is overwhelmed by poverty? But no one can think about those big questions because all they hear is more change, more uncertainty, more arbitrary decisions.

Oh, and tomorrow it sounds like the school board might fire the superintendent. Because nothing helps calm nervous or angry parents like a sudden leadership vacuum.

Oy vey.

Wanted: An Impossibly Perfect Student Assignment Plan

What's even more elusive than the Holy Grail, Big Foot and my abdominal muscles that never quite recovered from two c-sections?

A student assignment plan for Wake County that will make everyone happy all of the time.

This is not news. For those of you who are regular readers -- or who get trapped into conversations with me around town -- you've heard me soapbox about this before.

The problem is that so many things sound like good ideas in theory -- attending a school close to your house, having guaranteed feeder patterns to keep kids together from elementary through high school, getting to rank school choices based on your own preference, opening new schools with volunteers instead of reassigning students -- but they don't always work so well in practice.

What if the school closest to your house is horribly overcrowded? What if the guaranteed feeder patterns tracks your child to a high school you don't like? What if you don't like any of the choices available to you? What if no one picks the new school and it goes unused?

And then the real kicker for members of the school board is that (again, in theory) they can't just think about what's best for one or two kids -- they have to make decisions based on what's best for all kids and for the county as a whole (assuming, of course, that they're concerned about such things, which they probably are).

Last month, at a meeting that lasted into the wee hours of the morning, the Wake County Board of Education once again attempted to change course for how the district assigns its 150,000 students to the 165 schools across the county. In a move that may or may not have seemed like a political ambush, depending on your stance, the board majority (who happen to be Democrats on the non-partisan board) voted -- over the strenuous objections of the (Republican) minority that had made its own hostile and aggressive moves a couple years earlier -- to direct school system staff to develop a new plan.

For those of you who've lost track, that would be a new plan for 2013-14 to replace the plan that was new for 2012-13.

Ugh.

It's possible that the "new new" plan might just be a blend of the "old" plan and the "old new" plan or maybe a tweak of the "old new" plan -- I want to believe they're just trying to correct some of the bigger challenges instead of throwing the latest baby out with the bath water.

But even though I'm not a huge fan of the new plan -- a lack of base assignment tied to your address seems unsustainable and the lack of attention to diversity seems fiscally (if not socially) irresponsible -- I'm even less a fan of having a complete overhaul every two years following a school board election. And at the rate things are going, it's looking like we could be trapped in a two-year pendulum swing, with voters (and parents) continually frustrated on one end or the other.

I wish I had a solution -- or a magic wand -- but I don't. All I've got are some suggestions:

1. To parents: Remember that the very element of the plan you love most might be the same piece that ruined another family's year. This stuff is complicated at best and impossible at worst, but no one on the school board or in central office is purposefully trying to mess with your family.
2. To the district staff: If you're going to tie addresses to a base assignment, please do a thorough review of the existing node system first. When a one-block street with only 16 houses on it is split between two nodes with different school options, there's a problem.
3. To the school board: Quit being Democrats and Republicans and start being representatives for public education that makes good sense. Be socially and fiscally responsible about implementing a plan that sets schools up for success and uses facilities wisely.
4. To the students: Work hard and be nice to your teachers. While the school you attend can certainly make your life more (or less) challenging, it doesn't have to determine the results you get from your education.

Redshirting in Kindergarten

High on my long list of worries as a mom was when to let Junius start kindergarten.

When he was born in early July, North Carolina's kindergarten cut-off date was in mid-October -- no reason for worry. But a couple years later, the state shifted the line to the end of August. Suddenly my summer baby was on track to be among the youngest kids in his class.

During his two-year-old preschool class, I met several moms who were already planning on holding their sons (and it's almost always sons) for an extra year of preschool because their birthdays were in (...wait for it...) APRIL. Under that plan, if Junius started school on time, he'd be 15 months younger than those kids in his class.

Ugh.

A year later, we moved and nearly all of Junius' friends -- even those with August birthdays -- started school on time. He was ready to go to kindergarten, and his preschool teacher confirmed that there was no reason to hold him back. Now as a fourth-quarter first-grader, he's doing fine, both socially and academically.

I'm not the first parent to wrestle with when to start my child in kindergarten -- and I certainly won't be the last. This article in the LA Times or this piece from a March episode of 60 Minutes show what a widespread issue redshirting has become. For some families, in the words of the 60 Minutes producer, deciding when to start your child in kindergarten feels like a bigger decisions than selecting a college.

So here's my caveat before I climb on my soapbox (you knew the soapbox was coming out, right?): All parents have to make decisions based on what is best for their family and for their children. Period. I fully recognize that the criteria I use for making those decisions may not apply in the same way for your family.

And now for the soapbox: Redshirting feels like an arms race. You have a child with an August birthday and you don't want him to be the youngest kid there, so you hold him back a year and he's 13 months older than his youngest classmate. So another mom gets nervous about that and she holds back her July baby and so her friend holds back his June baby and before you know it there's an 18-month age spread in one class.

Fast-forward a few months into kindergarten -- the kid who started at age 5 is just learning to read, while his classmate who started at age 6 1/2 is bored with early readers. Now the teacher in that classroom has to differentiate instruction across an even wider spectrum, making an already tough job even more challenging.

Redshirting is also an arms race in which only those with the luxury of child care can afford to participate. Holding your child out of public school for an extra year means that you can afford to stay home with that child or put that child in a private preschool or daycare.

The research on whether there's a real and lasting impact from school-start age is split. But I question how any study that examines the results for students who start on time versus those who start late can separate out other factors like family income, parent education levels and the like -- because if low-income families (which often corresponds with lower parent education levels) can't afford to redshirt their kids, then there's no way know what differences are caused by redshirting and what is simply the result of having parents with the resources to give a child every possible advantage.

The bottom line? Unless your child has a true disability -- like a physical impairment, cognitive disability or emotional delay -- then the cut-off date applies to you and you should abide by it. The date is arbitrary and it varies by state, but it's there for a reason. Worrying that your child might be smaller than the other kids in his class or might not be the fastest reader in her class are not legitimate reasons for holding them back. Kindergarten is all about growth -- while they're in school, they'll get taller, they'll learn, they'll develop, right along with their classmates.

And if you want to avoid the issue altogether, invest in some serious family planning to ensure that your baby is born in January.

___ . ___

Okay, I'm off the soapbox now and bracing myself for the hate mail. What about you? Have you faced this issue with your kids? Or were you the youngest or oldest in your class growing up? Leave a comment to let us know your thoughts.

The Burden of Making Decisions

I think I liked it better when we didn’t have all these so-called choices.

The new student assignment plan for Wake County is supposed to create stability and give parents greater control over their children’s educational options. All it’s creating for me is headache and heartburn.

Junius is a first-grader at our original base assignment – a year-round elementary school just over a mile from our house. While it isn’t our “neighborhood school,” it is close by, the schedule works well for us and we’ve had good teachers there.

But under this new plan – for better or for worse – I find myself wondering about other options. Wouldn’t it be great for him to have Spanish instruction every day? Or maybe he’d excel in a program with smaller classes? Or would he get more benefit from the consistency of six years in the same school? And will any of the schools on our list even have seats available for second graders?

One of the toughest things about parenting is the millions of decisions, both small and large, that have to be made every single day. Do you vaccinate? Buy only organic foods? Do you let your daughter wear a tutu to church? When is bedtime? Who do you trust to serve as guardians in your absence? What’s an appropriate punishment for a 3-year-old who tells lies? Is your son sick enough to stay in bed or is he just trying to skip school? Is he too young to watch Star Wars? What school is the best fit?

Where’s my Magic 8-Ball when I need it?

The truth is that I’m tired of being the decider. I just want to know that everything is working out for the best. I want to believe that any school he attends will be the right one, that every teacher will challenge him with high expectations, that his classmates will encourage him to excel, that every experience will help him grow into a successful adult.

So how will I know if we made the right choice?

“Reply hazy, try again.”

Image found here.

Showing Your Work

Today Junius came home with information about Math Superstars -- it's an extra math program that his teacher offers during lunch once a week to give kids a chance to explore problem-solving and logic beyond what they're doing in class. It involves some extra homework, but also a chance to do independent thinking work.

I'm a supergeek -- we all know that already -- so I'm totally psyched about Math Superstars.

As part of the info packet, his teacher included a sample sheet of problems for a test-run. I'm proud to say that Junius got five out of six problems right without any help. After he finished, we talked through the questions to see how he got to the answers.

This is the one I was most impressed about:

I mean, I didn't expect a first-grader to understand enough about percentages or probability to get that one right. I expected him to pick the bird since that's where the arrow was pointing.

"How did you know the answer was fish?" I asked him.

His response? "Well, I figured that Julio and his parents might be allergic to dogs or birds, but they probably wouldn't be allergic to fish."

Looks like we've got a qualitative -- not so much quantitative -- researcher on our hands.

Recurring

The dreams started on Tuesday.

I’m climbing the stairs to the third floor of the main building. I can’t tell if I’m sweating because of nerves or simply because there’s still no air conditioning. I can’t catch my breath. The floor slopes strangely as I race down the hall, my eyes scanning quickly along the numbers ticking across the wall.

I have no idea which locker is mine, much less what combination will tumble the lock into place so I can retrieve my books.

And there are so many books. I don’t know where they came from, but I find myself carrying enough textbooks to crush an average 9th grader. They’re not my books, not my locker, and no one is listening.

Suddenly I’m in a different hall, different building, but just as lost. Where the hell is Mr. Saunders’ calculus class? And why is it always calculus that I can’t find? I keep checking my schedule, printed on carbon paper from the guidance office. Every time I look at it, there are new classes, new room numbers typing across the page.

Wandering into the back of the nearest classroom, I discover that I’m in biology. Lab day. I haven’t studied. It’s not my best subject. The teacher looks angry. I try to blend into an empty desk, hope that she won’t call on me. I have no idea what is going on or how to get out.

And then, both a blessing and a curse, I’m awake. Pippi is at the side of my bed. “Come lie down in my bed, Mommy?”

I should probably be glad that I never have the dream where I show up naked at school.

Or maybe I should just put on my big girl pants and get over the fact that my 20th high school reunion is this weekend. Crap.

.

School Labels

This week I sent my son off to first grade at a Failing School. And I'm not alone -- of the 163 schools in my district, 141 of them are Failing Schools.

At least, that's the designation according to the federal No Child Left Behind Act.

Of course, I've actually been in my son's school, met his teachers, talked with his principal, seen what the kids are up to. I know that it's not a Failing School.

His school is the place where he learned to read, add and subtract last year. It's the place where he made new friends and played with old ones. It's the place where  teachers and administrators worked hard to teach all students and help them succeed. It's the place where parents and grandparents volunteered their time and money to make a difference. It's the place where Junius was excited to come back and start first grade.

But because his school missed the mark with six subgroups of students out of the 23 they're required to report, his lovely school is labeled a Failing School. And because it's the second year in a row that the school has been labeled in this way (last year they met 22 of 23 goals), they are required to offer families the option of transferring to another (specified) school in the district.

And this brings me to my concern about No Child Left Behind. I realize I'm not the first (or last) person to write any of this, but it feels really personal now that it's my school. While I don't dismiss the value of assessing student progress and holding schools accountable (because, honestly, is anyone arguing that we SHOULD be leaving some children behind?), I think it is dangerous to use this all-or-nothing approach.

For those of you not familiar with AYP (Adequate Yearly Progress) and NCLB, here's a quick primer of how it works in elementary schools:

• Every student in grades 3-5 takes two end-of-year standardized tests, one in reading and one in math.
• The school is responsible for reporting test scores for each of the following groups that has at least 40 students in it across the tested grades: white, black, Hispanic, Native American, Asian, multiracial, economically disadvantaged (measured as students who receive free and reduced-price lunch), limited English proficient (meaning English isn't their first language) and students with disabilities (also known as special ed). 
• Using these measures, most schools have several subgroups (plus their scores for the school as a whole), but not all 10.
• Counting each subgroup twice (once for reading and once for math) plus the school as a whole and a few of other measures under consideration, the elementary schools in my district have as few as seven and as many as 33 subgroups. The more diverse a school is, the more categories it's responsible for meeting (and thus, the more challenging it is to make the goal).
• If just one student group in one subject (math or reading) at a school does not meet the targeted proficiency goal, then the school is labeled a Failing School. That means that, depending on the target goal, it's possible for the test scores of 10 children in a school of 600 could determine whether a school is considered a failure.

When the general public hears "Failing School," they're not picturing my school. But if you're a new parent to the district or the school and you see that label on my school, wouldn't you be looking for another place to send your kids? And that would be a real shame because you'd be missing out on a great school.

On a happier note, take a minute to look back at Junius heading off for his first day of kindergarten last year. Same backpack, but a smaller boy. Man, he's growing up fast!
.