Friday, May 25, 2007

"I’d rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance."
e.. e. cummings


This morning I opened my eyes at 4:00 a.m. and realized with deep despair that I am no longer a teacher of young children. Last week, after twenty years of introducing first graders to the power of words, I wrote words I never thought I’d write: Please accept this letter as formal notification that I am leaving my position. . . .I had put off writing the words simply because I couldn’t think of what to write. Suggestions from friends included such eloquent missives as "I quit" and "Take this job and shove it". But did I quit the system, or did the system quit me? And no, I do not want them to take the job and shove it. I want them to take the job and restore some dignity to it. Better yet, I want them not to take the job at all but to get their hands off it and let someone do it well and with passion.

While my co-workers spent the past four days attending meetings about next year, I worked in my classroom, packing away materials I hope to use again some day. While they looked over the schedule for testing every child in early August in order to get baseline data outlining the "basic skills" the children cannot perform, I packed away juggling scarves and pondered: What is basic? It seems to me that the term "basic" encompasses all those things human beings would do if there were no outside interference. "Basic" is organic. I imagine a conversation between Abraham and Sarah sitting under the stars in Mesopotamia. Isaac is sleeping in the tent behind them. Sarah says, "Is there anything you’d like to do before I douse the cookfire?" Abraham scratches his beard, thinks a moment, says "I know! Let’s segment some phonemes!" Sarah says, "Nah. We did that last night. Why don’t we do phoneme deletion tonight?" Basic. If left completely alone, people would work to find effective ways to communicate, discover artistic ways to explore beauty and truth, invent tools and machines to make their work easier. Basic. And, yes, woven into and throughout the basic there would be wordplay: bibbity bobbity boo, john jacob jingleheimer schmidt, flip flap flee I’ll meet you at the top of the coconut tree. I can’t imagine that there would be such inorganic permutations of letters as voj or fek.

I pack away the multi-cultural paint and remember the day we made an amazing discovery: Ain’t none of us black and ain’t none of us white. I think back to the day last November when the world began to crumble under my feet, the day I sat in a meeting and was told we would be administering DIBELS next year. "DIBELS?", I asked in disbelief. "Wait a minute. Back up, please. This district has purchased DIBELS? Without asking the teachers?" Oh, yes, I was told. The state is really cracking down on progress monitoring. We must have something in place to test the children three times a year for comparative data, and every two weeks for those who do not measure up. DIBELS is quick and easy. "But it only gives information that is not useful ," I said, still struggling to make sense of the news. "The tasks it tests are not things I want my children to be able to do anyway." We have to have something. It’s quick and easy. Quick and easy. Quick and easy. Quick and easy.

Becoming literate is not quick and easy, I’ll have them know. It happens over a lifetime. It’s not something you do; it’s something you are. It’s the velveteen rabbit you love the fur off of until it becomes real. I cannot spend the first week of August asking children "What do you get if you take the /ch/ off chair?" Nothing you can sit on, that’s for sure. NCLB is taking more than the /ch/. They’re taking the rest of it, too. The very air is being sucked right out of our classrooms. If I don’t spend the first week of August, all of August, all of the entire year, asking "What do you love? What are you afraid of? What do you think? What do you feel? What do you dream?", then I can’t teach the children. If I don’t observe them while they’re building their Play-doh sculptures, performing their puppet plays, playing with the parachute in the yard, then I can’t know as much as I need to know about their oral language patterns, their work habits, their thought processes. I don’t want to give them busywork to do while I test children individually. I want to sit on the rug with them and read aloud Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle and laugh and giggle at her reverse psychology methods. I can’t teach them if I don’t do these things and they can’t learn from me if I don’t tell them all about my fear of dogs when I was in first grade, the morning I went to get in the car for Daddy to take us to school and saw the neighbor’s house was on fire, the time I spent with my aunt while Mama and Daddy were on a business trip and the only thing I would eat was grits three times a day, and that I cried every single day of first grade–every single day–because I wanted to stay home and play on my swing set and read Nancy Drew instead of Dick and Jane. The reason I became a first grade teacher is that I hated first grade so very much because the teacher put us all through the same program of "basic skills" even though some of the children didn’t know the alphabet and I could already read the newspaper. I was determined never to do that to children. Never to standardize; always to individualize. That was 36 years ago, and we know too much to do that to children now, don’t we? Apparently not.

I roll up the rug, and I am overcome with remembering all the time I spent on rugs with children over the last 20 years. I remember the day we were sharing our fears and Maddie spoke very slowly, cautiously choosing the words through which she would bare her soul: "I still watch Barney. I’ve been scared to tell anybody that. That’s what I’ve been scared of. That somebody would find out." A tense moment followed the cathartic confession she’d made on the safe territory of the rug. Then, gradually, one by one, others began confessing that they, too, watched Barney or Teletubbies. Connections were made, bonds were forged, sighs of release and relief issued forth. After that, when we used Maddie’s "Barney" word card for word sorts, it was so much more than an r-controlled vowel and a proper noun and a capitalization rule, though it was all of that. It had feelings and emotions and new concepts attached to it.
I have wondered often since November if I am doing the right thing by leaving. Shouldn’t I stand in the gap? Shouldn’t I try to be an Esther in the palace saving her people? I don’t truly know. I think maybe the only life I can save is my own. As I packed the jump ropes and the handbells and Mac Davis’s "I Believe in Music" CD, I wondered if they’d ever be used again. At least I could’ve tried to work in some good things around all the testing, right? I really don’t think so. The struggle of going to work every day and having to choose between being a good employee or a good teacher, a choice none of us should have to make, became too much for me. The changing of definitions became too much. A good assessment is quick and easy? Being "professional" is implementing the plan handed down without asking any questions? I had reached the point where I could hardly look the children in the eye; I knew I’d let them down, but I didn’t know how to get around all the paperwork and testing. How could I teach them when I was so busy doing paperwork and testing them so I could prove I’d taught them?

People need to realize this is far more than that swinging pendulum you hear so much about in education. Good teachers never swung with that thing anyway. Good teachers don’t go back and forth, only forward. When good teachers can’t go forward because someone has thrown such a heavy weight on them that they can’t even pick up their feet, where can they go but home, I ask you? I ask you, because I truly do not know. . I cannot stand in the gap anymore. I tried to, and they knocked me down and walked right over me. I think of Mac Davis’s song, and I want to be "young and rich and free". I think of my favorite line in Charlotte’s Web: An hour of freedom is worth more than a barrel of slops. So I run free.

"Nor all your tears wash out a word of it. . ."

13 comments:

Anonymous said...

You are so much more eloquent than I when it comes to expressing the struggle to leave or go and all that this march towards achievement is really doing to our children. When I left three years ago, I said that I couldn't work in a system that wouldn't do what's right for kids...I couldn't do what I knew was wrong. I tried it again this fall and realized again...I can't be part of a system that is not invested in doing what's right for kids.

Anonymous said...

Your words moved me to tears. I teach at the high school level but I still see the effects of standardized curricula - the loss of intellectual curiosity. This week at my school in Virginia, we've been administering the SOL's and the entire week of instruction has been lost. Some of the most important teachable moments happen in the last couple of weeks of the semester as loose ends are connected, and themes between different pieces of literature are recognized.
I haven't even seen all of my classes this week. And next week we are required to review for the semester final exams.
So much for those teachable moments.
I, too, am leaving the classroom. Sadly, I don't think the administration realizes how many good teachers are walking away because they are more concerned with hiring good employees.

Anonymous said...

A year and a half ago a colleague and I were removed from our classrooms mid-year for our opposition to scripted reading instruction. I went on to another school, thinking I had found a better place to work. But when the school hit Year 3 Program Improvement, testing mania overshadowed everything else. After over 25 years I, too, am leaving teaching this spring. I, too, look forward to a time when I might be able to return. But I can no longer participate in the madness that is urban public education. Best wishes, Robin, in whatever you choose to do.

Educare: To LEAD Forth! said...

Dear Robin,

Your piece touched me deeply. It is a sad day when remarkable teachers like you find it necessary to leave the honorable profession of teaching and helping our young people become all that they can be. It is also unfortunate when the industrial (factory) model is used to manage our schools, considering that schools are not and can never be like factories. I love your ending; it touched me deeply. I am sharing your story with others.

With respect and wishing you the best,
Yvonne Siu-Runyan, Professor Emeritus
The University of Northern Colorado

Anonymous said...

Your words actually give me hope that somehow this message of teachers needing to be able to teach will eventually be heard. I too have been fighting DIBELS and now similar quick and dirty assessments and "interventions" as my district is moving toward Response To Intervention as a way to prevent overidentification of Special Ed. kids, which of course is a noble idea but is one that is saturated with DIBELS-like low-level thinking and working. Most of the accepted "research-based" programs are a revolting return to drill and kill that we thought we got past 25 years ago. A couple of graduate student pals joined me a year or so ago to prove our long-held notion that lots of slow readers are still good readers/comprehenders in a project at Universtity of Northern Colorado. We did it and a prof. there, Dr .Michael Opitz, is coming out with a book very soon that will lend even more credence to our cause. I am going to use your piece(if it is ok) to push the cause with local papers and administrators. We need somehow to get the principals and superintendents of our schools to do what is right and not be a continual party to this travesty just to keep their jobs. Your point of good employees rather than good educators is even more obvious with administrators---YUK
There are WAY TOO MANY OF US TO IGNORE---- WE NEED A REAL LIVE MOVEMENT

Anonymous said...

This may be the blog heard 'round the world - or at least the teacher world (it just showed up on another listserv I'm on). I, too, love your eloquence and am moved (as always) by your description of a career so filled with intelligence and professionalism, but also just as full of fun and wonder. I'd be sadder by your leaving the classroom if I wasn't sure you will continue to have a strong voice and influence. I am looking forward to working with you to share that voice with many of the teachers and administrators right here in our midst who want to find a way out of this NCLB nightmare. Somehow those good folks – and I still want to believe they are the majority – can be affirmed by your voice and find the courage to speak up and demand a stop to the mistreatment of children by those who either don’t understand how children really learn or (shudder) are only seeking to profit. Let the movement begin!

Renee Nefe said...

It's a shame that your awesome talent is being squashed by the thumb of the system.

I pray that you find a way to continue teaching...perhaps there's a private or charter school that doesn't have these regulations.

I found your words on a homeschooling support board. Your frustration with the system is one of the reasons I homeschool. As parents we share in your frustration. We want what is best for our kids...not what is best for the school system.

Anonymous said...

Your words brought tears to my eyes. It scares me what is happening to our schools and our children, not to mention all the truly dedicated educators like you.

Like Renee, I too found your words on a homeschooling support board and her reason is also one of my for homeschooling.

Have you wonderful teachers considered perhaps offering individual classes to your community - for example, maybe as part of a homeschooling group's co-op program? I know that it doesn't solve the problem, but it could allow you to enjoy teaching again while we all work to get this horrible business fixed.

Anonymous said...

Robin, I am a National Board Certified 1st grade teacher in a Title I school in Florida. I love teaching and I can't imagine doing anything else; I became a teacher to make a difference in the lives of poor children.

But now I just don't know if I can continue much longer. Like you, I can't choose to be a "good" drone over being a great teacher. My district is actually going to use last year's DIBELS scores compared to this year's SAT 10 reading scores to determine if I will be eligible for "merit" pay. They will publish the results of their complicated bonus formula in the local paper and teachers will war with other, parents will question our fitness to teach, and children will lose opportunities to grow and dream and hope.

The bonus formula, the progres monitoring plans, the Reading First checklists, the AYP formula don't measure the importance and essence of the little boy who went from kicking other children several times a day to saying "I'm angry at you. I should've said so instead of using my feet to hurt you" or the little girl who taught her Spanish-speaking mother how to read so she could read the stories we read and grew to love in class.

When will we teachers stand up and scream "Enough!"? How much worse can we let it get before we revolt and protect the precious children in our care from all of the heinous requirements of NCLB?

I weep for you, for myself, and for the children. But I also maintain hope. Teachers and parents together are a powerful force and we must work tirelessly to tell our stories and change the wrong direction our country has chosen in regard to education. Namaste.

Robin Atwood's weblog said...

Thank you all for your responses, and thanks as well to Kim and Jen for being supportive as I went through all of this, and to Elizabeth, who was not even aware that she was supportive from afar.

To the homeschool moms: Can you give me the link to the homeschool board where you found this? I did a search, but nothing came up. I am going to get in touch with our local homeschool association and offer my services.

Lynne, I like your style. I am very interested in the book.

Heather, I am sorry that you are leaving the classroom. What will you do?

Yvonne, please feel free to share this with as many people as you'd like.

To the anonymous NBCT: I'm an NBCT also. I've worked with National Board candidates for ten years now, and I find that more and more the things they are being required to do in classrooms are incompatible with the National Board standards. I began to see the effects of it about three years ago. Namaste to you as well, and since you're a first grade teacher, I'd like to share "photos of my children": www.mrsatwood.com .

Robin

Anonymous said...

I found your story on Susan O'Hanian's website. There is also an anti-dibels clearinghouse at www.vsse.org I am another parent who is homeschooling due to dibels, NCLB, and a school buying into the testing mania. Last year vsse (Vermont Society for the study of Education)published "Examining DIBELS," which was later published by Heinemann under the title, "The Truth about DIBELS: What it is, What it Does." My family's story is the prologue.
I am so sad to hear of anyone forced to make the choice you have made. But not surprised. And I can certainly understand and support it. Our need to remove our son from school was painful and maddening but the only option we had in order to keep him the sweet, thoughtful, kind boy that he is. There was no room for creativity, exploration, and story telling. Now we have the time to do all those things but I see NCLB and DIBELS continuing to harm teachers and children and parents. I see our politicians trying to justify continuing on the road we are on even though the signs all say "Thelma and Louise jumped here." Thank you for sharing your story.
Lisa

Anonymous said...

Robin, I hope you see this response so long after the original posts. The homeschool board where I saw your story is the forum for the Colorado Community for Homeschool Family Support group. The main website is www.cchfs.com.

I'm glad to hear that you are contacting your local homeschool association. I hope they appreciate what a dedicated educator you are! Good luck and take care!

Anonymous said...

Dear Robin, I was so relieved to come across your post regarding dibels. I was trying to search the web and research what is nonsense words when I happened to see your touching story.
I am very frustrated with my children’s teachers/principals and their use of DIBELS; especially to say that my children need to be retained because they tested "at risk"!
Please know that you have made me feel that I am not alone on these issues.
Blessings,
Dianna