The Opposite of Fact

What is the opposite of FACT?

      No, it's not OPINION.  Legitimate opinions are based on facts, so they're not the opposite of fact.

       The opposite of FACT is a man named RAFIQ R. KALAM ID-DIN II.  Mr. Kalam recently wrote an article in the New York Post in which he stretches the facts about charter-school co-locations beyond the realm of opinion and into the netherworld of obfuscation and outright misinformation.

*KALAM SAYS: Co-location of charter schools in New York City public schools is simply "the sharing of open space between a new and an existing school."

*THE FACTS: The space that charter schools want to share with (or borrow or steal from) district schools is rarely "open." Usually it is space that the existing school needs desperately, either for survival or for potential growth. Follow this link to read about this common situation, and this one to see how it is affecting one particular school in Brooklyn.   

*KALAM SAYS: Charter schools "receive no money for facilities."

*THE FACTS: Those charter schools that have already received free lodging through co-location are most definitely getting "money for facilities."  Those that don't can turn to the billionaires--such as Bill Gates and the Broad family--that have donated fortunes to charter schools.

*KALAM SAYS: Charter school co-locations are being opposed by the UFT, which is a "multi-billion dollar" organization. 

*THE FACTS: The UFT's total assets are approximately $137 MILLION, far less than even a quarter of a billion dollars, and little more than chump change compared to the money that Bill Gates and a horde of hedge-fund operators are investing in charter schools.

  

An Open Letter to (former) Chancellor Black

Dear Chancellor Black,

     Last Tuesday I arrived at school thirteen minutes early. I was greeted by Joe, the teacher who handles coverages. “Hey, Joseph. You're Ms. M. today. Sixth grade.”

     No, I am not a substitute. I am an ATR. The N.Y. Post calls me a “non-teaching” teacher.

     I have ten minutes to prepare for thirty-one sixth graders. Choking on dry Shredded Wheat, I pull out a worksheet on percentages and a book entitled Greek and Roman Medicine.

     At 8 o'clock my class arrives. I know this class well because I am occasionally assigned to assist their teacher, Ms. M. She is one of those passionate young teachers I know you would like to hang on to, Ms. Black. Do you know what Ms. M. says about me? Mr. Moses is a passionate, experienced teacher that the system ought to make better use of.

     I begin with a lesson on converting percentages to decimals and using proportions. By 9:30, we move on to a lesson entitled “What are Statistics?” After defining the term, I read aloud a passage about public baths in ancient Roman; the students take notes. Then they create charts called “Ancient Roman Baths by the Numbers.” They add illustrations. My favorite is by Anisa, a girl in Pakistani garb that is both modest and dazzling. Her illustration shows two pools, one for men, one for women, with just the bathers' smiling faces bobbing above the water.

     After lunch it is time for computers. Some students use their laptops to work on a reading program called Teenbiz; others are researching topics for a non-fiction report.

     Princessa, a girl who mysteriously missed two weeks of school earlier this year, needs help finding information about famous people from Boston. As we examine a page about Paul Revere, Princessa asks if I have a computer and printer at home. I answer “yes” naively, while thinking about what Princessa's home might be like. Before I know it, Princessa has gracefully lassoed me into printing for her a Boston Celtics logo on my home computer.

     My day ends with a lesson on historical fiction. As an example, I make up a little story about George Washington leaving his office to ask Martha what’s for lunch. The students write stories about people visiting the Roman baths in 211 C.E. One story, by Tosha from Guyana, is about Marcus and Calpurnia who meet in the exercise room and fall in love.

     The N.Y. Post says that I am a “non-teaching” teacher whom no principal would trust in front of a blackboard. Today this non-teaching teacher taught math, statistics, reading, art, computers, literature and writing—on ten minutes preparation.

     Believe me, Chancellor Black, I would love to have a class of my own, but the deck has been stacked against me and hundreds of other ATRs.

     Please: Let us contribute. Let us be part of the solution, not an undeserving scapegoat for the problem. Let us teach!

Shame, Shame, Shame

    For once, I agree with the New York Post: it really is a shame that Mayor Bloomberg's proposed teacher layoffs would hit hardest at schools in the city's poorest neighborhoods.  

    You know what else is a shame?  It's a shame that an ATR that I know, who has a clean record, has been trying for the last two and a half years to find a permanent position in just about any school in Brooklyn, Queens or lower Manhattan--including in neighborhoods where local residents warned him it might be dangerous for him to work.

     It's a shame that this ATR applied for positions through the Department of Education's Open Market online system but often received no reply--even from schools that must be desperate for good teachers.  

     It's a shame that this ATR spent hours at DOE job fairs with no serious interviews to justify his time.  One principal told him to his face that she was not interested in him--because he was tenured!

     It's a shame that two other principals seemed just about ready to hire this teacher--until they called the Human Resources department and were told to hire someone else; one guesses that they were told to hire someone younger, untenured, and with a lower salary.  

     And yes, it's a shame that this talented ATR may finally get a position at a school in a troubled neighborhood only because a talented younger teacher--with less seniority--might be laid off.  

    I know all about this ATR, because he is me.  I also know that the biggest shame is that Mayor Bloomberg seems more interested in changing the way layoffs are carried out, and less interested in preventing them.

Rubber-Room Escapees?

       On March 12, 2011,  Michael Goodwin became the latest Post columnist to spread misinformation about our schools' Absent Teacher Reserve.  Goodwin wrote that most ATRs escaped 'rubber rooms' only to suck up salary and benefits somewhere else. 

       Mr. Goodwin, I am an ATR.  I have never sat in a rubber room and I do not "suck up" salary and benefits.  I earn my salary and benefits--by teaching.

    Yes, Mr. Goodwin, every day I report to a school where I am assigned classes to teach.  That is what ATRs do--because they are teachers.

     Rubber rooms were for teachers accused of wrongdoing.  The unemployment line is for teachers whose work has been shown to be grossly incompetent.  The Absent Teacher Reserve is for teachers whose original schools needed fewer teachers than previously.  These teachers become ATRs and continue to teach in a different school.

    Believe me, I would prefer to have a "regular" teaching job, but the deck has been stacked against me.  In the meantime, I fulfill my duties as an ATR, which is also a teaching job.