A House of Mirrors, in Which the Former ATR Finds Herself in a Different Kind of Limbo

NYCATR's star contibutor, Life in Limbo, has done it again: she's managed to get stuck under a low-lying limbo pole, with her poison pencil intact. 

To the regular ATR readers and Friends of ATRs, I hope your summer is going well. 

To the newly-minted ATRs, I hope that your fall down the rabbit hole provides a soft landing and there is a Mad Hatter waiting there with a very strong Margarita just for you (ask for a second, you’re going to need it). 

So, after two years in the ATR pool and a year in a REAL position (at a completely insane and out-of-control school, but let’s not mention that-- oops, too late), why am I here writing for an ATR blog? Good question. I mean, I am a fully appointed teacher who had a satisfactory year by all accounts, right? Life in Limbo should be, for all intents and purposes, out of limbo. Right?? 

RIGHT????? 

Wrong. Apparently, there is more than one type of limbo when you are in DOE Wonderland. 

Let’s turn the clock back all the way to… May. You know, when you get to fill out your preference sheet? Yeah, that time period. I filled out mine requesting a job in my actual license area first, then requesting the job I already had as my second. When tentative assignments came out in June, I was informed that I was (most likely) going to have the same assignment next year. Ok, I thought, this is as good as it’s going to get in this crazy place and I love my colleagues, so yeah, I can handle that. 

Teachers line up for a job fair in September, 2011. 

So I am happily going about my business this summer–schlepping my kids to camp, swim lessons, and basically going with the flow, appreciating that no mandatory, but useless, “Job Fairs” are in my future for the first time in three years. 

Then I get a text message. A colleague tells me that she stopped at school to introduce herself to the new (Leadership Academy) principal and that she got a chance to peek at the new organization sheet for the 12-13 school year. 

My name was not on it. This puzzles me. 

I did not receive an excess letter. 

I did not receive an e-mail, phone call, or smoke signal indicating that I am in excess. 

There was no indication that ANY excessing was necessary under our last principal back at the end of the year. 

HR Connect still lists me as appointed to my school and NOT in excess. 

An e-mail to my AP has not been returned. 

Now, you may be asking, Why not just call and ask? In a universe devoid of absurdity, that would make sense. But this is the DOE, and we all went through the looking glass the day we signed on. So the obvious becomes, clearly, the last reasonable option. 

IF I seek to correct the mistake, then I face being in a situation where I am dealing with a first-time principal with little actual teaching experience (I Googled) in a completely out-of-control school where there have been few, if any, actual consequences for disruptive behavior. I am facing a Leadership Academy principal who has never been a principal before, and who is likely in the building to perform one of two functions: to either drive the school in to the ground so it can be put on the closure list, OR, to get this school “under control” by beating up on teachers so the building can look like a “success” story. Neither scenario puts me or my colleagues in a winning (or even tenable) position. Seems like ten months of torture is on the menu regardless of which is true. 

So I am now tempted to keep this under wraps. At this point, traveling from school to school weekly seems like a better deal than ten months of torture under a Learning Academy principal and the Common Core. In an odd way, given the options, the ATR is the better deal. Now I agree, they both completely suck, but at least the ATR option doesn’t require all the extra hours, paperwork, and “accountability”. 

If my job is going to suck either way, I’ll take the suckage that requires less work.

The Waiting Game, in which the Former ATR Wonders About September

After a long absence, our star contributor, Life in Limbo, is back.   She has spent the year out of the ATR frying pan, but into the fire of an out-of-control school.  Her life, we're sorry to say, is still in limbo.

So it’s June. And so far, it appears that I will be spending my first summer in three years NOT wondering where I will end up in September. I should be happy. I should be relieved. I should be relaxed, but this is not the case.


The school to which I am appointed is out of control. There is a complete and total lack of discipline which, of late, has become downright dangerous. Forget the constant cell phone/iPod visibility and usage (one student even brings his laptop to school every day and plays games on it constantly. When told to put it away, he responds, “Touch my f***ing laptop and you won’t have no arm no more, B****.”) When told to put the laptop away by a dean or AP, he does. At least until the dean/AP leaves the room. Then the laptop is back out and he resumes his games. Administration refuses to confiscate any of the electronics. Most of the time they are nowhere to be found.

Fights in the hallways and classrooms happen several times a day. Students smoke pot in the stairwells and often come to school drunk at 8:00 in the morning after drinking in a local park before school. Line-of-duty injuries are common due to unruly students physically assaulting me. I have sustained more than one this year. Both incidents were deemed “accidents” and the consequences to the students were minimal. The teacher next door is out on a line-of-duty injury resulting in a dislocated shoulder as a result of a student slamming a door shut on him (another “accident”). Another teacher has been out for some time with a neck, back, and knee injury when two students running in the halls plowed into her and threw her to the floor. The hallways double as jogging tracks and we teachers are constantly jostled and bumped as we stand in the halls during passing. Hall roamers run into the classroom several times a day to harass other students, randomly shout obscenities at the teacher, perform hip-hop dances, hide from administration, or fight students in the classroom. 

Administration’s response to this has been anemic at best– student removal forms are never acted upon, incident reports are filled out and submitted, but fail to elicit even an “in-house” suspension. Students who fight are removed from the room, but are returned to class ten minutes later after being told that they “are making poor choices.” Students who curse at and threaten teachers are taken out of class for a few minutes and returned to class because “there is nowhere to put them and they need to be educated”.


I am fully appointed to this school, which means unless I am excessed, I will return here in September. Rumor has it that the administration is to be replaced, and while I have no concrete news on this, I think something is up, as we have a Quality Review coming up and the administration is noticeably quiet. A week before a QR would have them poking into classroom libraries, data binders, file cabinets, and scouring Post-it notes on bulletin boards for “actionable feedback.”  But nothing. It is as if they have thrown up their hands and left it all to fate.


I wonder about this. For all their faults, the administration in this building is not a “Gotcha Squad.” I don’t tremble with fear when they walk into the classroom and I have had extremely positive observations and interactions with them. However, the fact that I did press for suspensions for the students involved in my line-of-duty injuries may have caused them to lose face in the safety arena and I know they try hard to keep everything quiet. Since I am currently teaching out of license (sort of), I can easily be excessed if I become a “problem” and replaced with a newbie teacher in the appropriate license for the position. So I may very well be back in the ATR pool in September.

So as the end of the year approaches, I find that the ATR pool may not be as bad as returning to this dangerous school, especially if the administration IS replaced and we end up with reptiles from the Leadersh** Academy.

Either way, I lose.

Who really runs the NYC public schools?

CB, a veteran NYCATR contributor, has raised a disturbing question: 

Who really runs the New York City public schools?

Here is some information I recently learned from a school secretary at one of the many schools where I’ve been placed. I would appreciate feedback from anyone who can confirm or refute the veracity of this information, or who can answer any of the questions listed at the end of this entry. 

A few years ago, Learning Support Organizations, or Networks, were engaged or created to “integrate operational and instructional support for schools,” or, rather, to take over some of the functions of the districts. Despite the fact that the DOE School Support web page refers to Networks in the plural, the only one listed on that page is Children First Network. (It seems to me that there originally were others; what happened to them?) 

This secretary told me that for its first four years, CFN staff consisted of former district staff personnel, people who were knowledgeable about school operations and therefore helpful to school administrators and teachers. This staff was originally to have been kept for only three years, but they were kept on for another year. By the fifth year, CFN had all new people on its staff, and, according to this secretary, these folks had difficulty carrying out their functions because of lack of experience with the school system. The year after that, things became “so bad” that CFN staff members would not even answer their telephones. Now, in the seventh year, they still “don’t know what they are doing.” 

This appears to explain “Life in Limbo’s” interview experience with a know-nothing CFN “Human Resources Director of Talent.” 

The bottom line, in my opinion, is that the Networks are really part of the mayor’s not-so-secret plan to privatize the schools. The school secretary theorizes that Mr. Bloomberg’s model for the city school system is the University of Phoenix, whose only campus is a virtual one. 

Most or all of us remember when Regions were installed to oversee (or replace?) the Districts, then scrapped in three years’ time. I don’t think the CFN is going to go away so quickly. 

Here are some questions I’d like to see answered: 

*Is there information about CFN on any of the alternative teacher blogs? 

*What is the relationship between the DOE administration and the CFN? 

*Who hires CFN staff? What are their supposed qualifications? 

*What powers does CFN hold? 

*What is its relationship to the school districts? 

*What is its relationship to school principals? 

*How much does CFN cost the DOE, and what costs were eliminated with its creation? 

*Are there any other Learning Support Organizations? 

*What else should we know?

Picture credits:

     

          http://childrenfirstnetwork.com/images/team.png

          

          http://www.localcollegeexplorer.com/Online_Degree/images/University_of_Phoenix.jpg

          

As teachers die (literally) ATRs are underutilized

Here's the latest masterpiece from the great Life in Limbo.  Read it and weep. 

I didn’t think they could squeeze any more out of us. I mean, my colleagues and I are maxed out paperwork-wise, class size-wise, and stress-wise. Seriously, we had one teacher die of a heart attack the first week of school, two teachers are out on medical leave due to anxiety, the teacher across the hall has stopped me twice in the hallway to ask me to watch her class so she can go throw up (no, it’s not pregnancy), the teacher on the right is having panic attacks every morning before homeroom and the teacher on my right was in the ER this past weekend diagnosed with Acute Anxiety Disorder and is getting a consult for anti-depressants this weekend. Also, a teacher down the hall left a few weeks ago, in an ambulance, because he was feeling dizzy and ill. Turned out his blood pressure was up to something insane, like 270/110 - he was in the hospital for three days. And that’s just on MY floor. 

Now, before I go any further, here’s a pop quiz (yes, I know it’s the weekend, but it’s only one question for full credit): 

How many teaching periods per week is considered a full schedule for an appointed teacher? 

Twenty-five you say? Hahahahahahahahaha!!! How 2005! 

Try thirty. 

I have thirty teaching periods per week as of this week. How did they do it, you ask? Allow me to explain. 

I came in to work this week to find a program of “small group instruction,” a Circular 6 Professional Assignment. I have no recollection of filling out a C-6 preference sheet, as required by our contract, but there it was anyway. 

Remember my last post, where I said we had vacancies in the building? One of them is an AIS (Academic Intervention Services) Reading position that, as of last week, has yet to be filled. This is a relevant fact, as you will soon see. 

Now, I teach a CTT (Collaborative Team Teaching) class, which means I have a homeroom, which, according to our contract, serves as my professional assignment, so I should not have gotten the C-6 assignment, right? RIGHT??? 

Wrong. I went to my principal who said that since it is a CTT, there are technically two people doing one job, so Mr. X, my co-teacher (whom I must say does a wonderful job of putting up with me and my compulsive board-washing), will be the homeroom teacher of record and I will report to my C-6 assigned “small group instruction.” So I was officially relieved of my homeroom duties, apparently. Fine. I hate collecting baby pictures and lunch forms anyway 

A New York City teacher provides academic intervention
to a small group of children.

So the period for this “duty” comes and I report to the room, and I realize that it is the room reserved for the AIS vacancy–it is not set up, many desks have been pilfered, graffiti has been applied to some of the furniture, there was debris everywhere and there was no chalk, earasers, etc. I had no roster of students, no materials, and no idea exactly WHAT I was supposed to do with this small group. So imagine my surprise when an ENTIRE class shows up for “small group instruction”! No section sheet, no roster, no materials, nothing. There were 21 students in my “small group,” all of whom were so used to not having a teacher this period (it’s been this way since September) that my chance of getting them to actually DO anything was slim to none. 

After this fiasco, I found out that the rest of the CTT teachers were subjected to the same treatment–one was given the homeroom exclusively, and the other pulled to cover a “small group” in this same room. We figured out that instead of HIRING one of the MANY READING ATRs that are currently members of the “School-of-the-Week Club,” they are using the C-6 assignment to avoid hiring a teacher and getting the five of us to teach what is, essentially, a sixth teaching period each day. 

Upon closer scrutiny, I discovered a few more oddities relating to my particular assignment: 

*On two consecutive days, it causes me to teach four periods in a row, a violation of the contract. 

*On two days, we have “voluntary” department meetings during our common prep time (as in, it’s voluntary, but you are still responsible for what happens if you don’t show up). On those two days, this C6 assignment leaves me with NO PREP at all, also a violation. 

*Twenty-one students is NOT a “small group” 

*I was never given a menu of C-6 choices from which to choose (I would NEVER choose more time in front of kids, LOL) 

*I was told by my Chapter Leader that I must have a lesson plan for this period, and that I can be observed in this setting. 

*I must keep track of what I do, and the kids change every day, so I just had my prep time cut by more than half (if you count the lost periods for department meetings, I only have three preps per week now) and was given an extra prep (the “small groups” are a different grade than the one I teach), and another 100 students to keep track of. 

I am considering chucking it all and joining a commune in Vermont. 

So, how was everyone else’s week? Me? I need a large glass of pinot grigio, which I will now pour. Any more of this, and I’ll have to start mainlining tequila.

Photo credits: 

a)https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6Rn7UXcirPSbe5L5Ke3i4gUXwP1RLWdKKUl149K3QdS7ySyJ6qXYRSvPm7wL_Id0h-BBsZQXdhU3wOmtoLQ0Xqi3vAHBUHFNsUbp8NlpS4PmoRysKDzz7ATo1WfSMc1-YqkMU8WCgExM/s320/causes_panic_attacks_anxiety_attacks.jpg

b) http://www.flemingc.on.ca/Media/Gallery/Sutherland/img/Lecture-Hall-2.jpg

Coverage Chaos

We thought that classroom vacancies were supposed to be covered by members of the Absent Teacher Reserve, until a full-time replacement could be found--either from the ATR, or from the outside.  At one school, however, administrators have found a Third Way: chaos.  Life in Limbo, the superstar NYCATR writer who now has a regular appointed position, reports. 

We still have at least three vacancies in my building: Technology, Art, and Special education. The tech and art positions have been covered with teacher coverages--we are all getting hit with these coverages two to three times per week. Covering the classes is a nightmare. Discipline in this school is already tenuous. Teaching my regular class is like sitting on a powder keg all day and bands of kids roam the halls and stairwells all day long. Having a different teacher every period covering a vacancy has made these coverages into nightmares. The kids know there is no teacher for you to report back to about behavior, and that there is no dean on the floor, and they act accordingly. They scream, yell, fight, run in and out of the room, and flip over the desks  all period and curse you out if you dare request that they sit in a seat and stop screaming. In addition, since the room is unlocked but empty, many of the desks and chairs have been pilfered, leaving too few seats should the kids happen to decide that they WILL sit in one. We are all considering putting in for combat pay for these coverages. Also, these students are programmed for technology and art, but have not received one lesson in either all year. How is this "Children First"? Is it even legal?

The special education vacancy is another story. This vacancy was covered by an ATR Literacy teacher from a closing school until the first rotation ended. Now, this vacancy is also being covered, period by period, by teacher coverages. This is a 12:1:1 self-contained special education class and these kids are getting their entire education from a series of covering teachers every day. From what I understand, the paraprofessional or aide in the room has been sketching out lesson plans using the teacher's editions of the textbooks, just so whoever is coming in has a clue. I can't imagine that the kids are getting homework or grades, though. And once again, is it legal for a para to write out sub lesson plans?

I haven't yet found out if there are any new ATRs in the building, but I will be on the lookout and continue to share what I learn, though it becomes more and more absurd as time goes on.

The fact that parents aren't up in arms, demanding someone's head on a platter because of all this, amazes me. In my home district in the 'burbs, there would be a line of parents breaking down the door at both the school and at the district office ready to make heads roll.

Picture credit: http://www.scrawlingsofapinkpen.com/asset/blogimages/classroom%20chaos_2.jpg

A former ATR teacher ponders a descent back into Purgatory

Here's the latest from Life in Limbo.  Her earliest writings for NYCATR described her life in ATR Purgatory.  This September, she arose from the dead to accept a regular teaching assignment.  

Call me crazy (everyone else does), but I am starting to regret this and it’s not even October.

Eons ago, back at the end of August, I was relieved to be offered a permanent position that was both relatively close to home and which also allowed me to stay under my Literacy license, which is where my tenure is. It is a Collaborative Team Teaching (CTT) position, and I share the four major subjects with another teacher in the room, and I was told that the class would contain between 25 and 28 students. Not bad, I thought. So I took it, thankful that I was going to be spared the ordeal of becoming a member of the "School-of-the-Week Club."

Then the pile-on began. The faculty handbook of my school includes a list of about 20 items that MUST be prominently posted in the classroom visible to ALL students all the time. Things like a poster of the breakdown of the Reading/Writing Workshop. And the complete list of the Common Core Standards in ALL subjects. A poster of classroom procedures (at front and center in the room). A poster of entry procedures (near the entrance door). A poster of exit procedures (near the exit door). Miscellaneous blank graphic organizers. The school oath. The Pledge of Allegiance (they don’t know it by 8th grade, apparently). List of acceptable uniform items. Rubrics for every subject. 

The list doesn’t stop and I found myself scrambling to find a working printer and computer to print out all this stuff because my classroom contains NO technology whatsoever. No computers, no printers, nothing. Forget about a SMART Board, LOL! I have a non-working mounted TV and a pull-down screen. And the waiting list for the one projector/laptop cart for the whole floor is already a month long. And all this HAD to be done by the END of the day on September 9 – and the administration was starting the walkthroughs as we were dismissing the students that day. I wonder about all the purpose of this – why do the kids need the Common Core Standards up in their faces all day? I mean, aren’t the standards and Reading Workshop components for ME? As if the reason this school’s scores dropped like rocks last year was because the graphic organizer with the Workshop Model wasn’t big enough? And think of all the time that was wasted as I chased my tail trying to print out and post yet another piece of pretty bull**** on the wall. And on top if it all, I was cited on the “Learning Environment Checklist” because some of my pretty bull**** didn’t look like everyone else’s pretty bull**** which makes the school look "inconsistent," and also because some of my pretty bull**** was done by hand, and not by computer (mind you, I have PERFECT handwriting – just like those cards we used to hang across the front of the classroom back in the day). I guess “NO EXCUSES” even applies to technology that you don’t have. Maybe one of these days I can type it on my cell phone and print out of my butt. But not today.

I have been given a flash drive containing pacing calendars, curriculum maps (a couple of which start in November, not September) and the 181-page faculty handbook and told to "take it home and print it all out."  I have already been required to attend three mandatory meetings during my "duty-free" lunch period and have had both "Inquiry Team" meetings last over 20 minutes beyond the end of the day, making me late picking up my son from a weekly appointment he has. During these inquiry team meetings, we are usually given some kind of ARIS-related BS task to do on the laptops. The catch? The laptops rarely work properly with everyone logging on at the same time, so "inquiry" time is usually spent rebooting and pushing random buttons on the laptop and the new assignment, (due by the "close of business tomorrow") ends up being added to the pile-on we must miraculously complete. 

The best happened on Friday. I was in my room on a prep toward the end of the day and a student comes in with a clipboard and a little stack of neon colored papers. She says that the AP wants everyone to sign for one of these slips. The sign-up sheet only says that I received it, so I sign and take the slip. I read it and got really pissed. It said to be sure that you log on and check your DOE e-mail frequently during the weekends for "important information and updates" and that "twice a day is the expected minimum." WTH? Sorry, but I really try to FORGET about work on the weekends so I can enjoy my family a little. As far as I know, I am not required to check e-mail AT ALL on weekends, let alone twice a day. This is on top of the fact that I ALREADY receive text messages from my administrators at 10:30 at night telling me to check my e-mail before bed.

And how is my union responding to all this? 

The silence is deafening.

31 barking dogs nominated for Rhodes scholarships

Here is a report from one of NYCATR's founding contributors, Life in Limbo.  Ms. Limbo has found a permanent appointment, and she's finding that members of the ATR aren't the only teachers who suffer from the DOE's brilliant policies.

My class is really rough; today it sounded like 31 barking dogs by the end of the day. And I could handle it (I was excessed from an IMPACT school) if I didn't feel like someone at Tweed is ready to slit my throat if I don't turn these kids into Rhodes Scholars by testing time.

And the pile-on of feel-good classroom "environment" requirements is a total time waster. When I was in District 29 they were just bringing in the Calkins model for literacy and there was such a big deal about every classroom needing a rug.  As if the reason the kids can't read is that there's no rug in the room. Now, of course,  the kids are failing the state ELA because the Common Core isn't posted in 700-point font at the center of the room for them to stare at!!


Graphics Credit: http://www.yourfamilypet.com/images/dog-barking-original.jpg

Overweight ATR Teacher Finds a Job!

The following was sent to us by a teacher who would like to be known as Overweight and Way Over Forty.  It is a rags-to-riches story of an ATR teacher whose prayers were answered.  We hope that it will inspire others to keep the faith. 

  

I was excessed in June as a math coach. I am many years over 40, overweight, overopinionated, and expensive.

Like Ms. Life in Limbo, I panicked about being flung around each week due to child care issues. I spoke to the Brooklyn UFT office and the gal there did not even know how many districts composed the superintendency I could be tossed around in. I told her it was her job to know this and call me back right away. When she did my suspicion was confirmed--my fate was defined as the old BASIS superintendency. I live in Manhattan and could now be sent to the south side of Staten Island on a whim. Brooklyn Unity gal was indifferent to this.

Well, I didn't go to any job fairs. I went camping with my daughter. But, I did register right away with the Open Market and post my resume. I also did follow up phone calls. I applied to 7 schools that were reasonably convenient.  I also faxed my resume to a few schools and sent emails to the principals on DOE email to make sure they looked at my application. 

The results: 

1. One very prestigious school that I hadn't even applied to called me for an interview based on my on-line resume.

2. One school said they would get back to me and didn't.

3. A very wonderful, supportive alternative school demo-lessoned and interviewed me. The school is 6 blocks from my daughter's school in Manhattan. I am now hired there under Open Market transfer on their galaxy table. BUT MOST IMPORTANT, I HAVE A PARKING SPOT! 

The principal stated that my credentials coupled with my persistence of politely calling, faxing, and emailing made me stand out. I also had written letters of recommendation from supervisors and a "Brag Book" about me that I would open to relevant areas during the interview. 

I was in constant prayer on this one, and several friends were also hoping for Divine Intervention, I think I may have had It on this one, and frankly, that is what it takes. My situation is somewhere between lucky and blessed or both.

I'm praying for all of you now.

Image credit:  http://www.dbpuppet.com/images/Pic_Gallery_OldLadyCU.jpg

Of Cautious Optimism and Lurking Dread

Our star contributor, Life in Limbo, sent in this post the night before she reported to work at her new job on Tuesday, September 6.  Stay tuned to find out how things went for her. 

Well, it seems that my stint in the ATR pool has ended. Maybe I have paid off some penance, maybe karma has come and gone, but whatever it was, it has happened. 

I have a classroom. I have a position. My name will be on a school’s table of organization for the first time in two years, and for that I am thankful. 

This is not the dream position I had hoped for when I began, and it isn’t the Literacy AIS position I was excessed from and truly enjoyed. It is a position in a school that is not of the highest reputation, and not in the best of neighborhoods. However, I have Googled and searched and found no indication that the principal is from Hell, and the school itself seems to have garnered almost no notoriety in the press. 

For the first time in ten years, I will have a full class. As the class is an ICT (Integrated Co-Teaching), there will be a co-teacher in the room whom I will meet tomorrow. I feel like I am about to take part in some kind of arranged marriage where the bride does not see the groom until they are at the altar. I pray we can make it work, and even enjoy working together. 

This position allows me to remain in my current license area and therefore keep my tenure, which is a huge boon in this “get the bad teacher” and “deny tenure” climate. I am optimistic despite the knots in my stomach as I write this the night before we go back to work. After two years in the ATR, it feels odd to have to buy a grade book, and backing paper/trim for bulletin boards, but not necessarily bad. For the first time in two years, I feel slightly hopeful that there may be life beyond the ATR, and I am grateful to the principal who is appointing me. I feel like I have been pulled out of a maelstrom. 

However, I feel a sense of dread in this. I think this is going to be an extremely difficult year for teachers. I believe that Mayor Bloombuck$ will work tirelessly to eliminate seniority rights, and by extension, the ATR teachers. I think the data reports have only begun to be used against teachers, and I lack faith in my union to keep these developments at bay. Large class sizes and lack of resources will add to the stress. At the end of this year, I can easily become an ATR again as I am now the lowest in seniority. A two year teacher will have seniority over me in this building. 

I am sure there will be plenty of ATRs passing through my new school. I promise to find them, speak to them, and tell their stories here. And I will, of course, relate the experience of readjusting to life in a real classroom after doing time in the ATR.  As NYCATR has said, “Once an ATR teacher, always an ATR teacher. 

I wish everyone a peaceful (“rigorous,” “value-added” and “differentiated”?) school year. May your students progress and your school make AYP. 

As for me, I’d appreciate it if you all could pray that I can find my stapler. I am going to need it.

Job Fair Tale #3: Fine Art and False Hopes

                                                                                                        

artquotes.net

  By Life in Limbo

                                                                                                             

I wasn’t going to go. 

I’ve become tired of dancing to the same old song and, sorry, I was just going to sit this one out. And I’ve already seen all of the paintings in the European Masters room. While I love Rembrandt, THSC, could you please move the fairs to a different gallery? I think the Surrealists make a better backdrop for this, anyway. 

But my inner masochist had been looking forward to this all week, and she’s such a whiner when she doesn’t get her way, so off I went. 

The “job fair” was supposed to start at 2. I arrived at about 1:45 and the line to get into the museum was already snaking through the Brooklyn Museum patio. I ran into a friend from my original school and I mentioned that I had been unable to print my ticket. He told me he had the same problem (printer trashed due to hurricane flooding) and said to speak to the lady at the head of the line so I could go in to get a ticket. 

I walked up to the woman at the door and she was engaged in a friendly conversation with a colleague. I waited. She made it a point to ignore me, so I finally just went in and got on the line for my ticket. A few seconds later, she was behind me, shouting. “Move over here! Yes, YOU! I’ll speak slowly. MOVE…OVER…HERE."

I had no idea she was speaking to me until she got up in my face. I looked at her and she said, "Did you not SEE that there happens to be 100 people outside? Or do you think that you don’t have to wait like the rest of the world does?” I explained that I just needed to get a ticket and wasn’t cutting to get in. “You didn’t cut the line? Oh, you certainly did! I saw you – you walked right past all those people like they wasn’t even there and just come on right through that door like you don’t got to wait for nothing.” When I asked if I was on the right line to get a ticket and then RETURN to the BACK of the line, she said, “Wait on this line here,” indicating the line she had pulled me off of.

After getting my ticket, I returned to the BACK of the line, which was now to the edge of the museum property. It was snaking onto the sidewalk shortly thereafter. I looked at the people with me and was, as usual, amazed at how many teachers here were over 35. If seniority decides excessing, then there must be an administrative game afoot because in every school I have seen it’s the 25 year olds who are in classrooms while the rest of us go to endless “job fairs”. 

I soon made another startling realization. There was a conversation next to me between a THSC person and a teacher whose entry was questioned. The teacher was asking the THSC person for her name. She refused to tell the teacher her name. “Say you spoke to the Hiring Center” is what she said, but she would not give out even her first name. So I started looking at these THSC people and saw than NONE OF THEM have names. Their badges said, “THSC Support” or “THSC Placement Adviser”, etc, but no one had an actual name. As a matter of fact, NO ONE in the place had names except for the teachers – even the principals/representatives wore badges that said simply, “Interviewer”. It was like being interviewed by a big, nameless machine - you don’t know who anyone is; you are at a disadvantage because your name is in bold type for all to see.

I also noticed that the gallery was half empty. The entire back of the room was filled with empty tables, set up for schools that never showed. Plenty of teachers were walking around looking frustrated and sad. The newly excessed teachers look confused. I spoke to several Reading teachers, all of whom had between 10 and 17 years of experience, one with 22. So many others told me of being in a building 7, 12, 15 years and being excessed while brand new teachers have classrooms. 

The saddest thing I saw was a male teacher about my age, who had two kids with him, about the ages of my older two. His name tag said, “Technology and Computer Science” and his kids kept pointing to tables saying, “What about this one, Dad?” or “This is a high school, Dad, how about here?” and he kept answering, “No, they don’t want me, they don’t want me.” My heart broke for this man, and my anger flared at a system that throws people on the trash heap like day-old bread. 

There were others – the teacher who taught business electives at a closing high school, a drama teacher excessed because the dance room was being converted to a classroom in her overcrowded school, music teachers who were told there would be no band program for them next year, math teachers, science teachers, even more than a few experienced Special Ed and ESL teachers, who are supposedly in shortage areas.

But do you know who there was an abundance of? TEACHING FELLOWS! Brand new, shiny, sparkling Teaching Fellows! Everywhere! Even though the invitation e-mail specifically stated that this “job fair” was for ATRs exclusively. One of them was at the water station, complaining about the lack of positions in ELA and how this was a waste of her five weeks. I said to her, “There are about 2000 of us ALREADY in the system without positions. Until EVERY one of us is placed in a position, there shouldn’t be a SINGLE new teacher in this room, period. You think you wasted five weeks? Some of these people have put in 10, 15, 20 YEARS and this is what happens to them.” She said she had no idea that there were teachers already in the system without positions. Apparently, the DOE lies to the Fellows, too.

All in all, this “job fair” was just like all the others. I hope they consider changing the gallery for the next one. I have viewed all the paintings in this one. Do they have any by Dali or Miro?

Interview Tale #3, in Which the ATR Teacher Unwittingly Joins an Encounter Group

A PSYCHOBABBLE MEMOIR

by Life in Limbo

msu.edu

Given that I’ve not much on my plate right now other than waiting out a fairly rockin’ storm (with a very nice Merlot) as my children quietly sleep in their beds and friends bunk on my futon, a trip down memory lane seems apropos. 

So let’s travel back in time. 

All the way to June. 

The invitation to this interview came in an e-mail, the day before the actual interview (hey, thanks for the advance notice, guys!). As it was a school that looked promising, both location- and subject-wise, I hastily made plans to have my kids schlepped to their activities without me. Seeing that the e-mail said, “Expect to stay until 5:00,” I tossed an extra yogurt and granola bar in my lunch tote that morning, programmed my GPS for later, and headed off, resumes in hand. 

When I arrived at New World Widget Academy (co-located in Old World High School, which is in the process of phasing-out), we were separated into groups of about 10 and given a tour of the building by some of the staff. What struck me most was that every single staff member (even the administration) looked to be under 30. They were all wearing tank tops, t-shirts, or lanyards with the names of their colleges – Columbia, Fordham, Penn State. 

All the doors of the school were festooned with Ivy League college banners and it was easy to tell the NWWA rooms from the OWHS rooms – the NWWA rooms were freshly painted and equipped with SMART Boards, the OWHS rooms were shabby and equipped with scarred blackboards and (I think) some chalk. The NWWA science labs were chock full of lab equipment and expensive-looking microscopes, but OWHS’s labs looked broken and empty.  My “tour guide” proudly talked about how the NWWA will be taking over more and more of the building as OWHS phases out. She seemed giddy about usurping a school that has a long history in the community. I found it to be profoundly sad. 

After our guided tour, we were brought in to classrooms and given a brief description of the school, its population, and its mission (in NWWA, apparently, EVERYONE poops rainbows and spits butterflies!). Lots of talk about “rigor,” “high expectations” and “data.” Then, after the 10-15 minute speech, she said, ‘If anyone here feels that New World Widget Academy is not a place for them, if they feel that they are not up to the task, this is your time to leave. Please feel free to go now and it will not be held against you.” No one left. What a surprise. 

The next step, we were told, was a group interview. We were brought into a conference room and instructed to sit around a conference table, while three administrators encircled us on the perimeter. As I looked around I saw about 12-15 people, mostly newbies, one obviously newly-excessed veteran teacher, and a few apparent veterans. One of the administrators (all under 35, I would say), said that we would be asked a series of questions and we would go around the table taking turns answering them. 

I was surprised when the questions turned out to me more along the lines of a group therapy session than a job interview. I was asked, “Describe a favorite toy from childhood and tell us what made it so special to you” and “Tell us about a time in your life where you suffered an extreme disappointment and how you overcame it.” My favorite was, “Tell us about a person in your past who had a profound influence in making you the person you are today.” Another was, “Tell us about when someone you love disappointed you in a big way and how you it made you a stronger person.” I felt like I was caught in an impromptu group therapy session. And I didn’t like it one bit. It was also getting near 6p.m. and I was feeling light headed from lack of food, as the yogurt and granola bar were now a distant memory. 

I found this entire process degrading and offensive. I left feeling violated and dirty. I had no idea WHAT these questions had to do with my ability to teach a class, let alone why I had to answer them in front of a group of strangers. If I want to discuss my childhood difficulties, or bare my soul to a group of strangers, I’d hire a therapist, who has a legal obligation to keep her mouth shut. When the question about the “disappointing person in your life” was asked, I was SOOO tempted to have a little fun and make up a story about how my mom was a Valium addict and my dad was a drunk who sent me out to turn tricks when I was 10 so he could buy gin. I even thought about making myself break down and cry – just to see the look on their faces, just for laughs. Seriously, by the time they got to the last question, I was ready to tell them to take their sanctimonious bull **** and shove it where the sun don’t shine. If they had asked one more question, I probably would have. 

The final step in this degrading process was the writing sample. I have been teaching for a total of 14 years, I have a degree in English Literature, I am a published author, I am a certified Literacy Specialist, and I have to turn in a WRITING SAMPLE to “ensure that you can write in a scholarly manner.” The topic was “The Perfect Lesson.” Make me vomit. 

I never heard from that school. Good riddance I say. When I got home, after 7 p.m, I sketched out the basics of this experience to my husband, and asked, “Is that bottle of wine from the other day still around? Because I could really use a glass.” 

“A glass?” he said, “I think you need to finish the bottle.” 

That’s love.

The Waiting Game, in which the ATR Teacher Encounters Newly Minted Teaching Fellows

A LESSON FOR TEACHING FELLOWS

    by Life in Limbo                      

survivorsucks.com

                                              

Clueless.

That was the lasting impression from this encounter.

During a recent interview, I was asked to wait in an office for a period of time while the principal met with other candidates and her network leader. I hadn’t been reading my book for long before I was joined by two teachers, both looking very eager and excited about the prospect of a teaching position. Both looked to be in their mid-twenties. Naturally, we began talking, as people who are thrust together in a room are wont to do. This in spite of my promise to sit and keep my mouth shut. 

They were completely aghast that I have just completed fourteen years of teaching, nine of these as Reading teacher. The female of the two, whom I will call “New-A," naturally asked where I was currently teaching and what the job was like. I explained that I am an ATR and how I ended up in this position. New-A responded, “Why don’t they just place you in another school? Why do you have to go through all this if they have to pay you anyway? It doesn’t make any sense.” 

I responded with a laugh; “You are working for the DOE, New-A, stop expecting things to make sense.” I went on to explain my real theory that the Open Market is not about placing ATR teachers, but really set up to frustrate them so they quit. The real agenda is to get the senior teachers off the payroll so that they can be replaced with cheap newbies, like, well… like you two. At least until you start making some money. Then they’ll throw you out, too. 

I don’t think they quite believed me. They seemed to be skeptical of the need for a degree in education (New-B said, “As long as you know your subject, you’ll be o.k.”). New-A said, “So many teachers are so bad and they just sit around and stay because they can’t do anything else. If you stay in teaching that long it must be because you can’t do anything else.” 

The conversation then turned to the school at which we were waiting to be interviewed. This school is one of the most troubled in the City. It is the only non-screened school in the area, which means it gets the “leftovers” after the other schools have selected the better students. It is in an area rife with poverty, gang violence, and every other social ill you can imagine. I have friends who teach in other schools in the area who say that this school is where they send the kids who get kicked out of their schools (and their schools ain’t all that great, either). There is little parent support. There has been a parade of principals over the years and most of the kids are functioning at level 1 or at low level 2. The building has a history of being out of control, with constant fights and teachers being assaulted. 

While I liked the new principal we had met with, and think she had the right ideas for beginning to move the building forward, I said to New-A and New-B that I couldn’t IMAGINE coming into a building like this with only five weeks of training. In addition, New-A mentioned that she was “certified” (or whatever newly minted Fellows are) in Special Ed, but was interviewing for a general Social Studies position. With her bachelor’s degree in Psychology. 

Well, New-A, fresh from a well-known college and out of school for a whole six weeks, said, “Well, I feel very confident and well-prepared with the five weeks of training I have gotten. I think the DOE really went out of their way to prepare us for anything and I think I can handle any situation they put me in.” HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I thought, “Honey, you have NO IDEA.” So I said, “What did they tell you to do if a student grabs your behind?” She looked at me blankly and said, “What? Oh, kids will never do that! I doubt that will happen; I can be pretty tough.” And then she flipped her layered and highlighted blonde hair back and shrugged. She went on to say that if anything like that happened she would go straight to administration and insist that the child be removed immediately and placed in another class. Ok, I thought. Good luck with that. I have a feeling that, if she is hired, that this school will be the first place she will have ever encountered minority people that she doesn’t have to tip. 

New-B, the guy, now chimed in. He said, “I look forward to working in a really tough school. It gives me a chance to be a change agent. I will do whatever it takes to reach these children and break the cycle and help them be successful.” (Images of the Borg from Star Trek flashed before my eyes – he’s been assimilated!!) He was very big on the “opportunity to make a difference in the lives of the kids” and “being a positive role model.” 

I asked New-B, “What if they resist you? I have been in schools like this, and it’s a tall order even with two Master’s degrees and years in classrooms like these. How can you do that with five weeks of training?” He said, “They taught us that the key is planning and keeping it positive and building relationships with the kids. I will make them like me and then I’ll have no problems. Make the learning fun.” 

He went on to say that if it’s too hard, he’ll just finish his Master’s degree and move on to something else as the economy improves. He doesn’t see teaching as a lifetime job, anyway. Maybe teach for a couple years and move up to administration or start a charter company. Nice. 

While I cannot blame New-A and New-B for taking advantage of the Teaching Fellows program, I have to say that it is a slap in the face to all of us, ATR or not, to think five weeks of pedagogical “boot camp” can replace years of experience and multiple college degrees. These two seemed like very nice kids,but they were just that – kids (and no, I am not THAT old). They were so unaware of the issues facing teachers in a City classroom that I feel it is downright cruel to hand these two a classroom key and say, “Go for it!” 

Part of me is concerned for them. The other part wants to start a pool and take bets on how long it will be before they curl into the fetal position, sucking their thumbs in a corner while the kids swing from the light fixtures. I say Thanksgiving. Anyone else in?

Pick-Up Lines for ATR Teachers

Ms. Life in Limbo, our wildly popular contributor, recently reported that an interviewer asked her why she hadn't been "picked up" by either of the two schools where she had been sent to substitute as a member of the Absent Teacher Reserve (ATR).

Before I expand on Ms. Limbo's answer, allow me to take offense at the term "picked up."  Are ATR teachers like hookers waiting to be "picked up" in a hotel lobby?  Or are they like criminals who are "picked up" by the cops?

Members of the ATR are teachers.  They are employed by the DOE, and they have done nothing to justify a termination of their employment.  They are looking for a regular appointment within one  school, where they can use their talents for the benefit of the students.

When the DOE sends an ATR teacher to a school as a substitute, it does so more or less randomly:
*Early Childhood teachers are sent to middle schools;

*Reading teachers are sent to schools that have just closed their    Reading programs; 

*general education teachers are sent to work with a Committee on    Special Education;

*high-school teachers are sent to elementary schools;

*Science teachers are sent to cover for Art teachers;

*librarians are sent to teach classes while classroom teachers run    the library.

These haphazard placements are a disservice to the students, and are certainly no help to the ATR teachers who are looking for permanent positions.


*You might be the most wonderful Reading teacher, but the  principal who just excessed all his Reading teachers has no     interest in you;
*you might be a great Science teacher, but your new principal will    never get to know that by watching you struggle to teach art;
*you might be a great Early Childhood specialist, but a total failure    at trying to control a room full of 7th-graders.


These are some of the major reasons that ATR teachers are not often hired by the schools where they substitute. They might want to be "picked up," but they are sent to the dance in ugly-duckling costumes and find themselves hugging the walls.  Anyone who thinks otherwise has never been a member of the Absent Teacher Reserve.  

The Interview, in which the ATR Teacher Meets One of the New Bureaucrats.

INTERVIEW TALE #1

by Life in Limbo

Six hours. 

No, I am not kidding. 

My gift for hyperbole aside, I recently had a job interview that took up six hours of my day. 

This particular interview resulted from my experience at a recent Absent Teacher Reserve (ATR) "Job Fair," and, unlike past interviews I have received, it was at a school that is a reasonable commute from my home and for a position that I, theoretically, would enjoy and find a good fit. 

I arrived about fifteen minutes before the scheduled time and was told to wait for the principal. After about half an hour, I was ushered into the office with the principal, the parent coordinator, and a faculty member. We proceeded to have a pleasant conversation and I felt that there was a chance that this could be a workable position – the principal seemed to be experienced and pragmatic (not one of those Leadership Academy sociopaths), and the faculty member and parent coordinator were pleasant, candid, and definitely people I could get along with. 

I was feeling like maybe there was something here and agreed when I was asked to wait a bit to interview with someone from the Children First Network (CFN)--so much for principal’s autonomy. I was placed in an empty office and made myself comfortable with my book. 

I waited in this office for about an hour, after which the principal came in and told me that the CFN person was on his way. Another ten minutes passed and I was told to come back in two hours as the CFN person was going to lunch. So much for the grocery shopping and pool outing I had planned for the afternoon. 

Upon my return, I waited another 20 minutes for the arrival of the CFN Human Resources Director of Talent (one of the new administrative positions recently created). 

This guy was an ignorant jerk. One of his first questions was, "Why have you been at a new school every year?" When I mentioned that this is what happens when you are an ATR teacher, he said, "Oh is that how it works? You go somewhere new every year? Why is that?" I had to explain to this guy what an ATR teacher is, and how the ATR pool works, even though I came to the interview by way of a "job fair" that was STRICTLY FOR ATRs. You’d think he’d have some kind of idea of how candidates were being selected for interviews. 

His next line of questioning focused on why the other two schools I was sent to hadn't picked me up. They didn’t have any vacancies in my area, I answered. His response? "Well, I have to wonder why they didn’t at least ask for you back." I explained that to ask me back would require placing me in a non-existent position, and he responded, "Well, I know that if you are as good as you look on paper that a principal can find a way to keep you."

"So why were you U-rated and made an ATR?" he asked.  I explained that I was never U-rated at any time and that I became an ATR teacher when the Reading department (four of us) at my school was eliminated, due to the fact that the Reading students all PASSED the ELA. He still persisted with, "I have to wonder why you haven’t been called back to your old school or either of the other two." I told him that he was asking me questions I could not answer, but that he was free to call the schools and ask the principals directly. 

He then commended me on my "honesty" and "candor" in being "forthcoming" about my ATR status and not lying or trying to hide my "situation." (As if somehow being an ATR means you did something WRONG.) Finally, he wrapped up with the following: "I have to say I have some concerns. After two years as an ATR, it bothers me that no one has picked you up and makes me think that there MUST be something wrong with you that you haven’t mentioned. It just seems like you are past your ‘sell-by’ date." I was escorted out shortly after by the principal, who had been noticeably quiet throughout my interrogation by the "Talent Coach," with the promise that I "will be hearing from" her. I am not holding my breath. 

Let’s keep in mind that this “Talent Coach” makes at least $81,000/yr and is NOT required to have any teaching experience--the job description specifies HR experience, not teaching or even administration.  The fact that he had no clue what ATR status means, how ATRs are assigned, or how one becomes an ATR is pathetic. On top of that, with all the talk about principal autonomy in hiring, I find it curious that his presence completely SHUT DOWN the principal and, apparently, overturned her decision regarding the position I was interviewing for. 

This charade lasted about six hours–most of it spent waiting–showing that the DOE has no regard for our time, regardless of the fact that I was there on my own time and of my own volition. These people had no qualms about hijacking my entire day, and did not even bother to ask if I had any other responsibilities or commitments later in the day. Apparently, if you are an ATR, you are to make yourself available to administration as they see fit, on their terms, and be prepared to stay until they no longer find you entertaining.