Life or Death

I remember working at a college in the Midwest, and my supervisor and I were having an argument on decision making. Most importantly, we were really going at it about whether our decisions have lasting impacts on students. He uttered these words that still piss me off today:

In the course of our work, we rarely make life or death decisions for our students. 


I disagreed (and told him in such an unprofessional way), and said that for many of our students, the decision we make might be the one to help them see themselves in a positive light or put a bottle of pills and a 12 pack of beer in their hands and decide to end it all. We must never underestimate the impact our decisions and our work have on students.


I am often reminded of this every day working in East Oakland. For you see, my school is in what some people would call a "dangerous neighborhood". Just last week, there was a running gun battle right outside our school. We had a street brawl two weeks ago between family members that grew into a 30 person battle royale, and earlier that week someone got shot down the street from the school. Funny thing is, I found out about the shooting from a kid who stands on the corner. I thought he was lying, until the cops show up looking for shell casings and witnesses (of course, they found neither). The cops didn't even bother to tell us someone got shot.

Our school can't afford a security officer, the security cameras are inoperative, our gates are left unlocked, and the street is full of folks that have nothing better to do. If someone is getting shot at, our front door is wide open for them to come in and find sanctuary. Never mind that there are 160 kids in the school, all in grave danger if the assailant decides to stroll in or the dude getting shot at tries to hide in a classroom. All are viable situations the principal and I have gone through, and it scares the shit out of us.

So, we have a meeting with a City Council member next week to beg for money to improve security. It's an incredibly stupid situation: we have viable security needs that need to be met to ensure student safety, and we have to schedule a meeting with a Council member to sell her to give us money. We have to give a presentation  on our security issues and why we need money for security upgrades. I'll be there asking for a competent security officer and if we could get a beat cop to sit outside the school during dismissal. I don't think I'm asking for much; I just want my kids to be safe while they're learning.

If this Council member decides to sit on her hands and not provide these vital resources, or "wait and study the issue", then she'll have to live the impacts it will have on our students. All I know is this...I don't have a badge, gun, or Kevlar. Until I get those, I can only do so much to keep these kids safe.

Priorities

Here is an actual conversation I had with my principal:

Me: Hey...did anybody from the police call you about a shooting?
Principal: No, why? There was one?
Me: Yep...down the street. Plenty of OHA cops across the street.
Principal: Nope, didn't hear anything.
Me: Meh...(checks Blackberry)...did you hear Steve Jobs died?
Principal: NO! Lemme check my iPhone.

There are several things wrong with this conversation that took place today.

First, if there is a shooting nearby a school, common logic would tell you to NOTIFY THE FUCKING SCHOOL! Heaven help us all if a kid gets hit by a random stray bullet. (By the way...it took the police about an hour and a half to respond to the shooting.)

Second, we were pretty casual about the situation. If this were the suburbs, we would have locked down the campus, notified parents via text, e-mail, phone blast, and calls to the local news stations. This being Oakland, we found out about the shooting from the corner boy who is cool with a parent of a 1st grader.

Finally, we were more consumed with the passing of Steve Jobs than the shootout across the street. I guess it's indicative of where we work and what we have to put up with. It's truly sad that the actual death of one guy (I'm sorry, a "visionary") many miles away can triumph over the potential deaths of many stones throw away from where we are standing.

Today's situation put things in perspective. As much as I enjoy the things that Steve and his crew at Apple created, none of that truly mattered to me. In fact, I'm already tired of the tributes and flowers left at stores and the inevitable comparisons to MLK or Mother Teresa. A couple of dudes across the street probably got arguing, one pulled a gun, fired off a few rounds near a school, and probably ran away like a punk. There might be a retaliatory shooting tomorrow, so I'll be concerned about that.

While the rest of the world sheds tears for Steve Jobs, I'll be hoping and praying that a stray bullet doesn't find its way towards my school and my students.

What A Waste

I spend a lot of my day in meetings with people who talk a lot on "planning" and "collaboration" and "fostering relationships". Honestly, a 3 hour meeting could shrink to 15 minutes if people cut to the chase. It's an incredible waste of time and energy.

A week ago, I was called into a "mandatory emergency" meeting. These are the ones that waste the most time, and are the most unnecessary. How does one create a "mandatory emergency" meeting? Well, someone from above (Board of  Ed., Superintendent's Office, State Dept. of Ed., etc.) makes a decision, usually misinformed and lacking in judgment and foresight. Someone below them feels the need to tell us, so the decide to give us the information in the most inconvenient and inefficient way possible.

This latest "crisis" was over the proposed school closure list. For context, Oakland has 101 schools for around 38000 students. Other comparable districts have 60-70 schools for the same amount of students. I figure the superintendent got a budget spreadsheet, said "HOLY FUCKING SHIT!" at the impending deficit, and decided to shut some schools down to save a few dollars. Makes sense.

However, the way the district is going about this is, like I said above, misinformed and lacking in judgment and foresight. This was evident in this "mandatory emergency" meeting. The process to shut down schools (or "retire" them, as is the new language) is based on a formula that even NASA engineers would have trouble deciphering. It factors in projected enrollment, number of students living in the school's surrounding neighborhood, and the overall cost to operate the school. Sounds logical, but leave it up to the district to find a way to fuck up a logical process. Here are some things that came up in the meeting that have led me to this conclusion:

1. Trying to follow the decision process on paper couldn't be any more difficult. Reading instructions to build a kit airplane is simple compared to this. I got a 30 page document filled with arrows, colored boxes, and symbols (*, ^, #) denoting exceptions to the already complex process.
2. None of the schools that are on the closure list are in West Oakland. Why? We're going to spend money on a special STEM (science, tech, engineering, math) area, so they're exempt from this process. I've been to many of these schools, and they are vastly under performing, and probably deserve to be closed anyways. We've already tried the "it's not working, let's change the name and focus of the school and hope something happens" route. 
3. Most of the schools on the list are in impoverished areas in North and East Oakland. The only school that is on the list that doesn't fit this description is in a nice area of North Oakland, with plenty of involved parents (and most importantly, money). If I could, I'd run to a betting book in Vegas and put my salary on that school staying open strictly on the political pressure those parents will put on the policy makers. Note: that school won't be closing. Shoulda went to Vegas. 
4. Overall school test scores were not a determining factor. Most of the schools on the bottom of the list are "neighborhood" schools, but their test scores are atrocious. Some of the schools on the list? Excellent scores. 
5. Some of the schools on the closure list just went major renovations. One school just had a $750,000 overhaul of their playground areas, and now it's closing.

During this meeting, I had to laugh to keep from crying. Just earlier in the year, we were talking about making the schools a hub for the community, with health centers, parenting classes, mental health counseling, and gardens for healthy eating. Now, we're talking about closing the very places that families look to for support. In all this, the district is trying to take emotion out of the decision making process. If you look at the budget figures, you'll see that we need to close this school, point blank. Families don't hear that...they hear that their child is going to a new school across town in a neighborhood they might not feel comfortable. Tell that to the well to do parents in the Oakland Hills. My child is going to a school with black and brown kids? I'm going to call my council member and let them know how I feel about this! 

What sucks about this? We've spent too much time, energy, and money on this process, and nobody I've talked to trust this process. People will complain, go to meetings, write their board members, and the pressure will make people cave. We might close a school, maybe two, but the problem will remain. And we will have wasted our time. 

I'm so tired of this place wasting my time. You could have just sent me a fucking e-mail with this mess. 

Reality

You're 6 years old and in the 1st grade. You go to school every day and are expected to learn. You go to school to learn how to make friends and develop skills.

There's a problem though. You can't read very well. You don't know your numbers. You can barely write your name, let alone hold a pencil correctly. Reading is impossible; if you don't know your letters, how are you expected to put them together to form words? You don't get breakfast in the morning, because your mother doesn't have the time or energy to cook for you. Your only meal of the day is the free lunch you get, and that barely gets you through the day. She's consumed in her own mess: she is raising 3 kids by herself, and dad just got arrested on a felony charge, so he won't be around for a LONG time. She also has her own issues; depressed, using alcohol and partying at night to suppress her own pain.

She didn't even care to send you to kindergarten or even a free Head Start pre-school. You're 6, and already so far behind.

You get to school late every day. The teacher is already at her wits end; "You're supposed to be here on time young man!" You nod your head, not even understanding what that means. I'm here, aren't I? Mom said you need to teach me, so what does it matter if I'm late?

Every task is a challenge. Paying attention in class is impossible; this is your first experience in school, and everyone else can write their name and knows their ABC's and 123's. You haven't learned the simple skill of sitting still or standing in a line. The smallest stimuli, the quietest whisper from someone has you turned around looking for what happened. When you do that, every adult is on your case. YOUNG MAN! TURN AROUND, ARMS FOLDED! WALK IN A STRAIGHT LINE!


Given all these, you're going to act out in class. You are going to get frustrated, so when someone says something you don't like, you will swing and kick. You will flip over a desk and scream. You will tell a teacher to "shut up" and that you "don't like her old ass". When Mom get's called, you know her routine: she'll wag her finger, tell you to "act better", not show you what that means, then go right back to the bottle. When the teachers have no idea how to help, the young man gets sent to...me.

I might be the boy's last hope for success, to learn, grow, and eventually move away from his dysfunctional life and live that American Dream we all seek. And he's only 6.

Set the Standard

I need another one of him.

I've been playing those words in my mind for a while.

I need another one of him.

Did those words actually travel out of her mouth?

I need another one of him.

Some reference on this: my old principal is interviewing people for my position. She's interviewed several people, none to her liking. I won't go into details, but she's looking for someone particular. Someone who knows their stuff. Someone who isn't afraid to take charge and make ground level decisions on the fly. So, she utters these words:

I need another one of him.

It's an awkward feeling, knowing that your principal wants you without truly wanting YOU. She wants your qualities, skills, abilities, knowledge, leadership, and dedication without the actual physical presence, feelings, emotion, and logic. Kind of like buying a new car without the engine...looks good but can't get your ass anywhere.

Two main things come to my mind whenever I play those words in my mind:

1. She already had me and now I'm gone, moved on to another opportunity, never to return. Sucks for her.
2. Her standards for the next person are going to be incredibly high and probably unrealistic.

As for the person she will hire, I hope they exceed her expectations and succeed. When I first got the job, I told her "I want to eventually leave with the situation much better than I got it". So, when the next person entered into the situation, they would not have to stress as much to get things working. I want them to exceed and excel, and to build upon the work that I put in. Also, I wanted my work to be so solid, that the next person would either have to be negligent or incredibly incompetent to foul it up. Programs and systems are supposed to support the kids, and the one I set up directly helped the children. So, in theory, the next person can come in, read over the finely detailed manual I set up, and hit the ground running. In theory.

However, it's a uncomfortable feeling that your previous leader liked your work, but didn't like you as a person. It led me to two thoughts: our personalities never meshed, or she never valued me as an individual. In earlier posts, I detailed her leadership qualities, or lack thereof. So, it would stand to reason that she wouldn't value me or anyone else that had a strong personality. Quality leadership values the quality work everyone does, not just the ones you like or work well with. At times, I was an insufferable asshole; I chewed out 8th graders who refused to listen to their teachers, stood my ground in staff meetings, and said "no" a lot to demands from teachers and parents who wanted their way, but their wishes would harm my program or my student's learning opportunities. I was all the bad names they muttered under their breath: asshole, dickhead, ignorant jerk, stubborn ass. But, many of the teachers (and a smaller number of parents) valued my work because I did it so well. Hell, there were some incredibly aggravating teachers at the school I worked at, but I valued their work and their efforts because they did it so damn well. We all had strong personalities, but we knew to appreciate and cherish everyone's work, because it is so difficult and tiring. Game respects game.

I need another one of him.

I hope she keeps looking, finds someone that will keep setting the standard of excellence, and she values them better than she did me.

Mistakes

In life, you will inevitably make mistakes. Some will be small (forgetting to pick up milk on the way home), and some will be large (neglecting to pay your taxes...for 15 years). More often than not, people will see past your mistakes and see that you are human. Sad thing is, there will be situations where the good you do will be overshadowed by a mistake.

I kinda sorta knew the school district's police chief. He worked in Oakland in some of the roughest neighborhoods. He worked in a drug interdiction task force for the state. He tried to revamp the school security officer hiring, training, and supervision protocols. He worked with communities to help kids get to school safely every day. He raised funds to run summer programs...with cops as youth leaders. Cops can have fun with neighborhood kids? All in all, he was working in good faith to help kids. He wanted kids to be safe in school, to learn, and to be successful in their lives. He also wanted us staff to know that our efforts were appreciated and he cared about OUR safety. Nobody had a bad word to say about him, and the people I knew had a lot of respect for his work. That was, until he made a mistake...

Let's say, you get the chance to play some golf on the job. Yeah, it's with your boss, but it's still golf when you should be in the office (or patrolling a beat, but that's neither here nor there). It's for a fundraiser, so it's even better. By the 12th hole, you and he have enjoyed a couple of Miller Lite's, and you're having fun. However, on the 13th hole, you realized your boss has had a little too much of the devil water, and he starts popping off at the mouth. He's just competitive when he's had a few. No big deal. So, on the 14th tee, he really get's going with the f-bombs and borderline racist comments. Why is he getting drunk at the golf course? It's Tuesday, and we're still on duty. Around the 17th hole, he's pissed at...something. It might be at you, or the fact that you're a Black sergeant on the force. Doesn't matter, but imbibing spirits is not a good thing for him. An in a few minutes, you're gonna realize it's not good for you either.

You do the responsible thing...call a friend for a ride. Wouldn't look good if the drunk police chief got into a car wreck...on duty...on a Tuesday. As you're riding home, dude starts really letting you have it. He starts using the phrase "you people". He starts popping off about whether you should live in your neighborhood. Dude, that OT you gave me bought me that house in the nice neighborhood. It's really your fault I'm living like a boss. Throw in a couple of N-words he's shelling out , and you are wondering if this guy is really drunk or this is what he thinks off the clock (oh shit, we're still on the clock!). Your designated driver stops somewhere, probably at his house to let his family know what's going on...drunk chief gets out, throws some N-bombs towards the designated driver's children, then proceeds to have another driver take him home. This new driver is Asian...his ride is just as bad, if not worse.

This is a pretty big mistake. This is one that will overshadow all the hard work and efforts he put in. It's a small mistake if you get drunk and send a stupid text to an ex-girlfriend. It's a huge mistake if you get drunk and try to prove that America isn't "post-racial".

Sidenote: stop using the phrase post-racial. Racism is still alive in America...admit it. If you don't believe me, then look at our district's dropout rates. Almost 50% of our black and brown students don't make it out of high school. And, we as a nation don't see that as a problem, even though we need these students to go to college, get great high-paying jobs and stimulate the economy. Instead of feeling good about voting for a brown president, let's work to make sure these kids have a fighting chance to be successful. Also, let's not celebrate "heritage months". Let's incorporate people's history in every subject, every day. Ida B. Wells, Fred Korematsu and Cesar Chavez didn't do their work on specific months, and we shouldn't celebrate them on just a specific month.

Sad thing is, this dude was a good guy. I just hope that we, as a community and as working members of the district, have an understanding that this was a mistake. Was it indicative of the kind of person he is? I don't know, but I hope he gains his sobriety, makes amends to his family, and truly takes to heart the pain and hurt his words caused. I hope he can look into the mirror, truly find out about who he really is, and forgive himself so he can live the rest of his life without shame, but with understanding of who he is and about the past he has experienced.

If he doesn't do that, then it will be the biggest mistake of all.

Meet to Meet

Goofing off on Youtube, I ran across an old ESPN Monday Night Football commercial that had a guy sitting in a conference room, boredom splashed across his face. The announcer said "you're about to sit in a meeting to go over past meetings and discuss what to discuss in future meetings." Art imitates life, especially now that I am in the midst of summer training and "collaborative planning meetings".

District "training" is the unofficial end of the summer. This means it's back to the grind of last minute paperwork, shrinking budgets, increased expectations, and the other drama that goes with working in public education. As I strolled into an elementary school in West Oakland with other administrators, a familiar grumble echoed throughout the gathering masses. We gotta sit through this shit again? We did this last year! I got better shit to do. I tried to stay positive as I walked in the door, but after coming to realization that I will be undergoing the SAME "training" for about the 3rd time, I started grumbling too. And I hadn't sat in my chair yet.

Our "training" started with a welcome address from a higher up from the district. Let's just say the speech was less than inspiring. I'm sorry, but Rex Ryan shouting let's eat a Goddamn snack wouldn't have moved this crowd. Then we were shown a glossy film on what the district is doing to become a "full community service school district". I turned to a colleague at a elementary school in North Oakland, and we both laughed at each "point of achievement". Most improved district in the state? When you start at the bottom, nowhere to go but up. We send over 100 high school graduates to UC Berkeley? How many were Black children from West and East Oakland? 50% of our Black males drop out. We had 3 schools become National Blue Ribbon Schools? Man, 2 were charter schools that everyone hates because they actually educate kids. The district doesn't really recognize them, and the teachers union hates them 'cause they aren't union. So, as you can tell, the movie was inspiring.

This occurred within the first hour, of the first day of a 3-day "training". The tone for the rest of the duration was set.

Sitting through sessions and "round-robin" discussions, I came to several conclusions that warrant mentioning:

• If you are a new administrator, this is incredibly informative and necessary. You learn the policies, network with other administrators, and take home a nice binder with all the things you talked about. If you've been through the training just once, then the information is pretty repetitive, and you would rather spend your time actually working. You could send the policy changes in an e-mail...I would actually read it. And the binder is only useful when you take the stuff out of it, place the stuff in the recycle bin, and use said binder for other practical purposes.
• The beginning of each session and discussion involves a "icebreaker" or "energizer". I am not an "icebreaker" person. However, I am given dirty looks (and actually got called out by a district manager) when I don't participate. I don't care...if the district cared about differentiated learning, then they would modify the session so that analytic learners have other opportunities to interact with their peers (damn, I'm good at this academic language game!) My logic is this: having fun the first 5 minutes of the session doesn't make the other 55 minutes any better. Give me the information, and let's get out of this session 5 minutes early. That will energize me better than a game. Plus, I know everyone here, and I already don't like half of these fools in here.
• You learn that district policies are a combination of arcane rules that are devoid of any logic or sense. This is true especially with nutrition guidelines. The nutrition policies of the school district serve two main purposes: to follow state rules, and to make the district money. To feed kids healthy, nutritious food that they won't get at home? Please. For example, children can only get one snack per day, and any extras are thrown away. I have an idea...if we have extra snack, could we give them to kids who are very hungry and haven't eaten all day? Nope, not within the snack guidelines. Okay...so what happens if I order snack and I don't get it? Call our supervisor. And, while I wait for the supervisor to show up, could I run to Safeway and buy the kids some granola bars or something? Nope, the caloric and sugar content in the granola might exceed the daily allowed level. Plus, we bought the snack, and we have to serve it.

I have come to the realization that "training" serves the purpose to simply sit down and meet. No rhyme or reason is needed; someone high up decided these administrators, in the middle of a busy before-school season, must sit down for 3 days in a stuffy gymnasium and talk about...nothing. If you watch the video and study that guy's face, you'll see the same one on my mug.

Summer of Miscontent

Summers mean one thing...uncertainty. For most instructors, the last day of the work contract means cleaning up, packing your classroom, and making final vacation plans. For me, it meant uncertainty whether I would have a job in the fall or not. You see, my position isn't protected by a union contract. In other words, I "serve at the pleasure of the principal". Sounds like I work in the West Wing or something. Shit, at least if I did, my paycheck would be much bigger.

Let me break it down for you...the principal is the ultimate decider on whether you stay or go. Teachers and support personnel really don't have this situation (there is a grievance process if a principal wants to remove a teacher or classified staff). However, I am the lucky (or unlucky?) one. I can (and definitely have) do a kick ass job, meet attendance goals, come in under budget, and create a positive learning environment. However, if you forget to say "good morning" to the principal, and they have the slightest problem with that, then you're gone. Small slights become huge issues, depending on the day. If the principal is having a good day, then everything's gravy, and I could do no wrong. However, if the principal is in a bad spell (or just spent all day in weekly principal meetings), your slight of not saying "hello" is presented as "has bad attitude towards school leadership" on your annual evaluation. It takes "at will employment" to a new level.

In my experience, if you want to keep your job, do a good job AND be a good kiss-ass. If you and your principal have a good working relationship and run a solid program, then you are covered. If you've been friends with your principal for years, then they've got your back, even if you fudge your attendance numbers and make questionable procurement decisions (cough...XBOX 360...cough...iPods...cough). Think of The Office, where Michael actually depends on Dwight, but Dwight has been taking petty cash and headin' to the strip joint when he should be on a sales call. But, since Dwight and Michael are good buddies, Michael will oversee the accounting discrepancies and actually make Dwight the Assistant Regional Manager. Screw Jim and his sales records.

My principal and I had different leadership styles. I learned my style from the military: lead from the front, put your people first, mission before self, excellence is an act. My principal had other thoughts: you do as I say, and we'll be cool, just as long as I stay in my office and bark orders. I led from the front; you'll see me in the hallways trying to stop fights, get stragglers to class, and help teachers out whenever need be. The principal stayed away, announcing her commands via the PA system as if she were the omnipotent leader she imagined herself to be. Listening to your people and taking advice eliminates problems and wards off dysfunction. My principal didn't have time for your advice, for she was the one in charge. Imagine your surprise when dysfunction showed up.

In any dysfunctional situation, the good leader looks for strengths in everyone and plays to those strengths. You lean on the people who work hard, work on the people who don't put in honest efforts, and take the best advice that helps everyone do their jobs better. Bad leaders choose sides, play favorites, and eliminate those who are perceived as threats.

So, I spent my summer break interviewing and wondering where my next paycheck was coming from. My summer vacation was full of uncertainty.

Joe Clark You Ain't

A staff member lamented to me about the way kids acted in the hallways today. Rainy weather plus 10 teachers out of the classroom equaled absolute craziness. He told me you know, someone should go Eastside High on this place. I sighed and shook my head...this wasn't the first time I heard this.

Eastside High? Lean on Me? Morgan Freeman as Crazy Joe Clark? If you haven't seen it, you're not alone...most of the administrators in my district haven't either. The ones who have idolize the film and Joe Clark. In the movie, he's the old school principal who waved his bat and cleaned up his school in a convenient 2 hour time frame. It is the poster movie for how to turn around a school. So, when you Eastside a school, you just kick out the 25% of kids who do nothing, slap some paint on the walls, and chain all the doors to keep kids in and dope boys out. The state education boys will go to hell once your kids pass the basic skills test.

Administrators and staff members idolize Joe Clark as if his story were completely true. If the world were packaged like Lean on Me, every problem would be solved through swift ass kicking via a bullhorn and angry stares. Problem is, the world is not a Warner Bros. production. Issues need to be addressed with style, grace, and the occasional kick in the ass. When my principal first uttered the line They used to call me Crazy Joe, now they call me Batman!, I cringed. That just meant she wanted to run her school like Joe Clark, and not in the way she was trained and had the intellect for. A destructive leadership style just leads to destruction, pure and simple.

As an administrator, leadership cannot be a scorched earth policy. Just be up front and clear in what you want. It takes conversations where you say I want this environment to be supportive and where everyone can grow. I will do my damn nest to provide you with what you need. However, as the leader, here are my expectations, and they are damn high. I'm absolutely confident we will succeed and meet these expectations, because you are here and you have the skills to do great things. You talk to your people as if they have a clue on how to do their job. You trust their judgment and work hard to help them grow personally and professionally. You can't come in and proclaim yourself as the HNIC, and expect people to follow because you are the boss. Oh, and if you say that to a union rep, then you might not be the HNIC for long.

Now, if your school or program is in mass chaos (similar to Eastside), you pull everyone together and tell them directly if ya'll want to exist in chaos, that's on you. We can work together to change the situation, or let the situation change us. Leave the personal bullshit at the door and come real. Take 5 and make a decision, but we stand together or fall together. And, we got rent to pay, so it's probably in our best interest to stand together. I've done this several times, and when you're direct and prove that you can stay above the bullshit, people band together or decide the situation isn't for them.

When I talk to new teachers and administrators, I give two pieces of advice. First, you're not the savior, and you won't be able to save every student. Get over that really fast. Second, just be yourself. If you try to be someone you're not, then nobody will respect you. Most people don't believe me, and think this business is like it is in the movies. This job is more like Prezbo in Season 4 of The Wire. You think you're a savior, and you get kicked in the mouth really fast. You find out that you actually kinda suck at this teaching thing, and the job is not like in Dangerous Minds or Freedom Writers. You can quit and run away, or you plug at it and find out that you're pretty good when you focus on providing the best for your students. You learn how the school "jukes the stats", how to stay away from the school drama, and what the kids go through. Most importantly, you learn how to help kids navigate the treacherous situations in their lives.

I just wish more people idolized Prezbo the teacher...

The Damn Admin Radio...

When you step into any school, you have no idea what to expect. I always said expect chaos when you come to a middle school, and most days it is like that. Preteen children are, in a nice term, absolutely crazy. Most times, it's not their fault; any psychology textbook will tell you that the connections between the limbic system (regulating emotion) and the prefrontal cortex (regulating logic and decision making) are nowhere near strong in a young adolescent. So, if a 6th grader acts crazy or starts dancing on a table in the middle of lunch, most likely it's brain psychology working. However, if that same 6th grader lives in a war zone like the Lower Bottoms, or was exposed to drugs and alcohol in the womb, and is already 2-3 grade levels behind in reading or mathematics, that brain connection is even weaker due to stress. Throw in some PTSD or learning disability, and there may be no connection at all. This 6th grader is acting out and can't tell you why. A counselor told me once that the brain chemistry of a "functioning" 12 year old is similar to a 45 year old with schizophrenia. So, coming to work every day is like walking into a psychiatric ward, except the padded walls are replaced with metal lockers.

However, I never imagined the chaos to extend to the adults running this asylum of learning. The dysfunction amongst adults working at the school can be as bad as the dysfunction amongst the students. It's not overt; you can't walk into the front office and point out the madness most days. But, there is one tool to help understand what the environment is like...the administrative radio.

The day I got the admin radio, I felt like a king. I was finally in the big kids club; I had arrived on scene. Really? I can listen into the adult conversations? I can call the principal or anybody else with this thing? I get to look official in front of the kids? It's like a status symbol, akin to driving a BMW or owning a home in the Oakland hillside. Look at me, I'm a boss. I got this, and you don't. But, once you turn it on, you desperately want to give it back. Communication on this thing feels like we're walking a beat in the Poe Homes, just got jumped by some dope boys and we need backup...IMMEDIATELY. Honestly, 99% of the communication is not that serious, and doesn't demand the faux intensity. If you need paperwork or need a student out of PE to take their medication, don't calmly talk in the radio and ask; you scream as if your body is on fire. Any form of help requested on the radio sounded like a disaster was happening...except if you needed toilet paper in the bathroom (you never freaked out towards custodial...NEVER).

ASSISTANCE NEEDED IN ROOM 15 IMMEDIATELY!!! TEACHER NEEDS SECURITY NOW! First time I heard that, I did a Usain Bolt towards the class, thinking it was a weapon or a dangerous situation. Nope...kid didn't want to take her seat and start the Do Now. After a while, unless a "999" or "943" code was given, I usually didn't pay too much attention to what was said. Between the hours of 2pm and 3pm, that radio was turned off. Silence is golden, especially at a middle school.

The worst part is the attitude that is transmitted with the message. If you don't like somebody, your voice inflection will display it. Office drama doesn't need to exist in the office; it exists on the radio, directly in earshot of students and parents. If the principal is having a bad day, Heaven help you if she gives a direct order over the radio...you'll find out whether you're still in her good graces. If the attendance clerk needs a student in the office, she'll give a 5 minute explanation WHY she needs the student. If you're sending a student to in-school suspension, and you know the kid is an absolute pain the ass, the reply of "copy" will detail the feeling of Oh my God...not this little fool again...just send his sorry self home for today. The radio is not a tool of effective communication; it's a medium to express your frustration in working in chaos.

If that dancing 6th grader got their hands on an admin radio, they would probably think we're the crazy ones.

Day Off

Days off are a Godsend in any field, but in education they are dearly cherished. Never mind that we get summer, Spring Break, Thanksgiving Break, Winter Break, professional development days, and the random illness or organized union activity that precludes us from entering the building. Daddy always said to cherish your days off.

For most people, days off are a time to rest and relax. Fire up the grill, burn some meat, crack open a few PBRs, and let's have a good time! For me, it's about reflection. I can go shopping at some random store for a ridiculous sale any damn time I want, but I really need the time to reflect about the choices I made that day, that week, that entire year.

Most of my reflection is spent wondering Am I doing the right thing? Is anything I do right? It's a bit harsh on myself, but my reflection is similar to Tom Brady breaking down game tape. Should I have told that 8th grader I hopes he gets his ass kicked in high school? Was breaking up that fight the best call for me? Damn, I should have told the principal what I really thought about that budget proposal.

More and more, I realize that I'm not like everyone else, and I can't just shut my mind off when I'm on vacation. This is my time to look at the damn game film and evaluate just what the hell I am doing. I'm not looking like Tom Brady, with the Bieber-esque hair, perfect pocket poise, and gobs of money falling out of my pockets. Rather, I'm looking like a purple-drank induced JaMarcus Russell, stumbling out of the pocket and delivering the ball to the defense. If I could shut my mind off like JaMarcus did during his film session...

Late Night Inspiration

It's a late night at some family member's house. Everyone is either watching the village idiot on Youtube and the TV y Novelas awards show on Univision. My mind is contemplating a lot of things: go for the promotion? join the military? run away into the Sierras and live a half-assed nomadic life? Nah, just start a blog and hope it doesn't get me into trouble. This moment has been 3 years in the making, and the catalyst was the fact that I couldn't understand what the actors from Triunfo del Amor were saying.

Crashing Down? Sounds crazy, sounds suicidal, sounds like some emo kid writing about middle-class teenage angst. Nope...but history helps here. It's the hook in the song "Sooner or Later" by N.E.R.D. I had to listen to this song on repeat to get me pumped to go to work. No, I'm not a soldier about to hump the Korengal Valley, nor am I working the late shift on a oil rig, nor am I an overpaid athlete about to sit on a bench and earn a ridiculous amount of money. I just work in public education in the fine city of Oakland. You have to get pumped to work in that environment. The drama, the politics, the shit life throws at you dictates that you find some sort of psychological source to prepare in dealing with it all. N.E.R.D. got the adrenaline pumping; this will get rid of the excess.

When I got the job to be an administrator at a middle school, I thought it was a plum gig. Summers off? Paid holidays? Decent neighborhood? $20 co-pays at the doctor? Where...do...I...sign! Over two years into it, I'm ready to fill the Internet with the stories, drama, and musings of an extremely overworked, grossly underpaid, and entirely under-appreciated working man. Here we go...