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Coffee With The Princess!
3 years ago
Coffee With The Princess!
Help Me Out Here, Y'All!
**Giggles!**
Most of y'all, the loyal fans and friends, who read my journals know how I do things when it comes to picking a topic to chat about. There's not a whole lot that I will not entertain, though politics is one I often shy away from, especially these days with me being so turned off by both sides of the aisle. This one is not going to touch on politics, but education. So, pick up your favorite beverage and follow along, please ...
Ages ago, about thirty years ago, I had thought I wanted to be a teacher, possibly a biology or chemistry teacher, but I wanted to teach. So, I got into college at Cumberland College in Williamsburg, Kentucky and went from there. It took me about five years to graduate, something that my Pop had a hard time understanding and actually got angry enough to travel up to Kentucky to "discuss" this with the head of the department. At this time, I had moved through the physical sciences towards English and History, but I also had a minor in Theater and Drama, so acting was a strong possibility. Pop was not happy with me and even after he left, he always felt like the college had "wasted the family's money." My Big Sister often teased me about saying, "College is supposed to teach you how to think and problem-solve, not basket-weaving classes, honey!" I often shushed her, telling her that a gal like her who didn't have her high school diploma shouldn't be speaking. Honestly, neither should I, but I was young, arrogant, and full of myself. I actually heard Pop one evening tell Mom that he thought I was "A bag of hot air!" but almost immediately, he took the comment back. I'm not sure that he saw me, but I suspect that might have been the case. I love my father and wisely decided to let it go and not say anything. I was told by my Big Sister that he was upset, even to the last few weeks of his life about this ... this is one of the things I wish I could have fixed between us. Still, I know where he was coming from and I have faith that he understands now.
But, once I graduated, the education really began. I discovered quickly how little I knew and how unforgiving life could be. I worked for two to three years as a barely paid substitute teacher, making less than $25 a day. To get more, you had to first work for two weeks for the same teacher before you got that. I was the one they always called to come in and "Play warden!" as my Pop said jokingly, but it was essentially what I was. This was right there at the slow upswing of the 1990s, leaving the 1980s, which was here I was still fresh from high school, and political correctness was on the upswing. To a gal like me, none of this stuff they were pushing made sense to me, but I tried to work within the system. For what I did for each day, I don't think I even rated the $25, but they had to legally pay me something. Most all of the kids did NOT want to be there, could not care less, and yet ... there was always that glimmer of hope or possible connection if you looked for it. I like to think I was a fairly popular teacher since I talked to the students, treated them like adults, and only asked for them to respect each other and me "if they felt I was worthy of such respect." Most had no problem with that. But, some of the teachers did and it got me into trouble. Mostly with a principal coming in and asking me to step outside, usually during a "planning period", which was where a teacher takes a class allowed time slot or period as I knew them as to decompress. That was usually where the principal would inform me of a complaint. I always just accepted it as how things worked, but I often just dismissed it as sour grapes from teachers who had been there too long. A good many of them were ones I remember as a former student and they were pretty good with me. It was the ones who didn't know me who had the biggest problem with me. Oh well.
My main problem with education at this point was that the kids were not being taught how to think and problem solve, but what to think and feel. I often was concerned about how religion or at least a good moral compass was established and hopefully strengthened seemed to be fading away, but that was what I hoped the parents were doing. Well, after attending a few PTA meetings on my own, I saw that this was not the case. Parents and teachers were represented, but the kids? Nope. I always thought this to be fascinating and had said so as a student back in the day and then now as a teacher I mentioned it at a meeting. I might as well walked into my church Mom loved so much and did a Madonna video.
If you need me to explain this, well ... google it, honey!
It went over as you would expect: a fart in a diving helmet or a turd in a punch bowl. After about a minute's worth of sour expressions and wonderment from the assembled people, no one even entertained the idea, so I hung around for about an hour or so and then the meeting ended, thank goodness. No one wished to chat with me, though later I was told some of the parents and teachers thought I had raised a point that none of them had the guts to mention. The fact they were saying this after the meeting and away from the rest of their peers gave me the only validation.
There were a few other incidents that made me turned off by education as a whole. Not the idea of teaching, but that one was a theme: the lack of concern. Granted, most of the time, you would be bored and that was when I often got creative, but ... I was told by a teacher that I was "wasting my time!" That was also before stomping off. But, it was often more routine and nothing happened. From time to time, however, there would be "incidents" like "The Superman Indicent!" which was a giant of a kid who wore a Superman t-shirt busted a spring because he got teased about wearing the shirt and he decided that he had enough and about injured a gal and a couple of teachers. There was also the one with a kid snapping in class and jamming a pencil in a teacher's eye that got a lot of chatter for a long time, but after the smoke cleared, the teacher was allowed to come back with an apology and nothing more than a reinstatement and continuation of his tenure, plus backpay for the year or so he was not a teacher.
It would be Special Education that would be the endearing charm that I learned about doing and then one that would break my heart and cause me to finally leave education. Most of y'all know about the kid who passed while I was supposed to be watching him. He just went limp, he never did much but smile from his wheelchair and flap his hands. I turned away for a bit and ... he was gone. That's the one that pushed me out, but this one which I'm about to tell you made me cringe. It was classified as a Special Education class, but it was more of a place to put problem kids to keep them from dropping out altogether and still keep them somewhat active at school. It was a place out by of all places the cemetery and water treatment plant, which was surprisingly lovely land, but kind of sadly ironic as one teacher pointed out. These kids were the ones who had "behavioral problems", a history of causing problems out having issues that didn't quite quantify, but were concerns. I kid you not! This was how it was explained to me by the supervising teacher who was one of the coaches I respected back when I was a student. Anyways, this kid was having a rough day and after taking attendance which was a joke ... "Just highlight their names on the sheet and turn it in." That's what I was told. Each day was a new list too, most of the kids were usually gone from this class within a couple of weeks, but would more than likely return. This kid was obviously depressed as most of them were, so I was asked to take them outside and allow them to do whatever. "Just keep an eye on them." So, there we sat in the sunshine. This kid made a joke about this being a waste of time and we started talking. I suggested to him that to think about the problems he was having and try to come up with a simple solution or even a couple of thoughts on how to fix things and go from there. "If they are still sound when you get home, try doing them." And none of these were harmful to him or anyone else. These were just thoughts on how he thought he could improve things for himself. I nodded and he was satisfied.
Later I was told by another teacher that "Helping him solve his problems was not the thing to do! You are just supposed to sit there and be there for the kids." I was aghast! Now, keep in mind, this was before the political correctness was entrenched like it is today and things are so radically different than what I remember. I tried working with what I had and I was told that I was not the solution or even a possible understanding of the situation, but a problem.
I believe within a few months or so, I had made up my mind to get out. And that's where I am today. At a better job with professional and caring people who respect each other and treat one another as part of a team and not as enemies, problems, or defunct parts. What started this was me chatting with one of the ladies who's friend was told that "Once you have kids, you will change the way you look at them as a teacher." I would imagine so, though I only have an inkling since I helped raise my Big Sister's kids, being one of their constant and accepting adults in their lives. My Big Sister and my folks did their best, but as the kids told me later, "You treated us as adults and shot straight with us."
Mm ... perhaps that's my problem is that I cared too much. Nevertheless, what I'm asking help for is for y'all, if you wish, to let me know the good, the bad, and the in-between with Education where you are. While I'm here in the United States, I'm curious to learn and expand my understanding. All I ask is be respectful to each other and to me, please.
BE Happy!
Love and Kisses,
Loonia
Help Me Out Here, Y'All!
**Giggles!**
Most of y'all, the loyal fans and friends, who read my journals know how I do things when it comes to picking a topic to chat about. There's not a whole lot that I will not entertain, though politics is one I often shy away from, especially these days with me being so turned off by both sides of the aisle. This one is not going to touch on politics, but education. So, pick up your favorite beverage and follow along, please ...
Ages ago, about thirty years ago, I had thought I wanted to be a teacher, possibly a biology or chemistry teacher, but I wanted to teach. So, I got into college at Cumberland College in Williamsburg, Kentucky and went from there. It took me about five years to graduate, something that my Pop had a hard time understanding and actually got angry enough to travel up to Kentucky to "discuss" this with the head of the department. At this time, I had moved through the physical sciences towards English and History, but I also had a minor in Theater and Drama, so acting was a strong possibility. Pop was not happy with me and even after he left, he always felt like the college had "wasted the family's money." My Big Sister often teased me about saying, "College is supposed to teach you how to think and problem-solve, not basket-weaving classes, honey!" I often shushed her, telling her that a gal like her who didn't have her high school diploma shouldn't be speaking. Honestly, neither should I, but I was young, arrogant, and full of myself. I actually heard Pop one evening tell Mom that he thought I was "A bag of hot air!" but almost immediately, he took the comment back. I'm not sure that he saw me, but I suspect that might have been the case. I love my father and wisely decided to let it go and not say anything. I was told by my Big Sister that he was upset, even to the last few weeks of his life about this ... this is one of the things I wish I could have fixed between us. Still, I know where he was coming from and I have faith that he understands now.
But, once I graduated, the education really began. I discovered quickly how little I knew and how unforgiving life could be. I worked for two to three years as a barely paid substitute teacher, making less than $25 a day. To get more, you had to first work for two weeks for the same teacher before you got that. I was the one they always called to come in and "Play warden!" as my Pop said jokingly, but it was essentially what I was. This was right there at the slow upswing of the 1990s, leaving the 1980s, which was here I was still fresh from high school, and political correctness was on the upswing. To a gal like me, none of this stuff they were pushing made sense to me, but I tried to work within the system. For what I did for each day, I don't think I even rated the $25, but they had to legally pay me something. Most all of the kids did NOT want to be there, could not care less, and yet ... there was always that glimmer of hope or possible connection if you looked for it. I like to think I was a fairly popular teacher since I talked to the students, treated them like adults, and only asked for them to respect each other and me "if they felt I was worthy of such respect." Most had no problem with that. But, some of the teachers did and it got me into trouble. Mostly with a principal coming in and asking me to step outside, usually during a "planning period", which was where a teacher takes a class allowed time slot or period as I knew them as to decompress. That was usually where the principal would inform me of a complaint. I always just accepted it as how things worked, but I often just dismissed it as sour grapes from teachers who had been there too long. A good many of them were ones I remember as a former student and they were pretty good with me. It was the ones who didn't know me who had the biggest problem with me. Oh well.
My main problem with education at this point was that the kids were not being taught how to think and problem solve, but what to think and feel. I often was concerned about how religion or at least a good moral compass was established and hopefully strengthened seemed to be fading away, but that was what I hoped the parents were doing. Well, after attending a few PTA meetings on my own, I saw that this was not the case. Parents and teachers were represented, but the kids? Nope. I always thought this to be fascinating and had said so as a student back in the day and then now as a teacher I mentioned it at a meeting. I might as well walked into my church Mom loved so much and did a Madonna video.
If you need me to explain this, well ... google it, honey!
It went over as you would expect: a fart in a diving helmet or a turd in a punch bowl. After about a minute's worth of sour expressions and wonderment from the assembled people, no one even entertained the idea, so I hung around for about an hour or so and then the meeting ended, thank goodness. No one wished to chat with me, though later I was told some of the parents and teachers thought I had raised a point that none of them had the guts to mention. The fact they were saying this after the meeting and away from the rest of their peers gave me the only validation.
There were a few other incidents that made me turned off by education as a whole. Not the idea of teaching, but that one was a theme: the lack of concern. Granted, most of the time, you would be bored and that was when I often got creative, but ... I was told by a teacher that I was "wasting my time!" That was also before stomping off. But, it was often more routine and nothing happened. From time to time, however, there would be "incidents" like "The Superman Indicent!" which was a giant of a kid who wore a Superman t-shirt busted a spring because he got teased about wearing the shirt and he decided that he had enough and about injured a gal and a couple of teachers. There was also the one with a kid snapping in class and jamming a pencil in a teacher's eye that got a lot of chatter for a long time, but after the smoke cleared, the teacher was allowed to come back with an apology and nothing more than a reinstatement and continuation of his tenure, plus backpay for the year or so he was not a teacher.
It would be Special Education that would be the endearing charm that I learned about doing and then one that would break my heart and cause me to finally leave education. Most of y'all know about the kid who passed while I was supposed to be watching him. He just went limp, he never did much but smile from his wheelchair and flap his hands. I turned away for a bit and ... he was gone. That's the one that pushed me out, but this one which I'm about to tell you made me cringe. It was classified as a Special Education class, but it was more of a place to put problem kids to keep them from dropping out altogether and still keep them somewhat active at school. It was a place out by of all places the cemetery and water treatment plant, which was surprisingly lovely land, but kind of sadly ironic as one teacher pointed out. These kids were the ones who had "behavioral problems", a history of causing problems out having issues that didn't quite quantify, but were concerns. I kid you not! This was how it was explained to me by the supervising teacher who was one of the coaches I respected back when I was a student. Anyways, this kid was having a rough day and after taking attendance which was a joke ... "Just highlight their names on the sheet and turn it in." That's what I was told. Each day was a new list too, most of the kids were usually gone from this class within a couple of weeks, but would more than likely return. This kid was obviously depressed as most of them were, so I was asked to take them outside and allow them to do whatever. "Just keep an eye on them." So, there we sat in the sunshine. This kid made a joke about this being a waste of time and we started talking. I suggested to him that to think about the problems he was having and try to come up with a simple solution or even a couple of thoughts on how to fix things and go from there. "If they are still sound when you get home, try doing them." And none of these were harmful to him or anyone else. These were just thoughts on how he thought he could improve things for himself. I nodded and he was satisfied.
Later I was told by another teacher that "Helping him solve his problems was not the thing to do! You are just supposed to sit there and be there for the kids." I was aghast! Now, keep in mind, this was before the political correctness was entrenched like it is today and things are so radically different than what I remember. I tried working with what I had and I was told that I was not the solution or even a possible understanding of the situation, but a problem.
I believe within a few months or so, I had made up my mind to get out. And that's where I am today. At a better job with professional and caring people who respect each other and treat one another as part of a team and not as enemies, problems, or defunct parts. What started this was me chatting with one of the ladies who's friend was told that "Once you have kids, you will change the way you look at them as a teacher." I would imagine so, though I only have an inkling since I helped raise my Big Sister's kids, being one of their constant and accepting adults in their lives. My Big Sister and my folks did their best, but as the kids told me later, "You treated us as adults and shot straight with us."
Mm ... perhaps that's my problem is that I cared too much. Nevertheless, what I'm asking help for is for y'all, if you wish, to let me know the good, the bad, and the in-between with Education where you are. While I'm here in the United States, I'm curious to learn and expand my understanding. All I ask is be respectful to each other and to me, please.
BE Happy!
Love and Kisses,
Loonia
Mm ... I cannot imagine having kids in an environment that is going the way it is now. But, I have to agree with your assessment. I remember being very bright and basically encouraged by teachers to study on my own and work hard. Pop, who was NEVER afraid to work hard, always encouraged that and Mom showed me what it takes to be successful to which I take to heart these days. But things have become so much more galvanized and politically charged unfortunately.
It's easier if you're in the system yourself and so know how to navigate it and know what support is available, and my kids are great anyway, but I know people whose kids are struggling and it's not their fault. Kids like your Big Sister you mention above - we now know about these issues and can diagnose and measure them, but we still don't seem to be able to support them any better than back in the 80s!