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...