Buses are a nightmare for school administrators. They're unsupervised other than the individual driving whose main focus is (or should be...) the road. Drivers have zero training with kids (a fact that usually evidences itself several times throughout the year), and typically their management bag of tricks is filled with one strategy- yelling (note: if you are a teacher and this is your only management strategy, it might be time to think about a new line of work...).
It's not uncommon for my days to open with parent phone calls or visits complaining about what their child reported upon coming home. Most of these issues are easily taken care of with simple student conferences, but occasionally more serious issues present themselves.
Recently I had a mother of one of our students come in shortly after the day had begun. She was very upset indicating her fifth grade son Allen (who was a great kid) had been attacked on the bus by a student 'wearing lots of rings' and that his face was 'all cut up.' Apparently the boy had texted his mom from the bus prompting the visit. Normally I would have been a little suspect, but Allen was such a great kid I figured there was some truth to the matter. I promised mom I would get to the bottom of things and she left.
My mind was soaring all over the place. As I sat waiting for Allen to get to my office to talk I was imagining scenes from The Outsiders or kids carrying brass knuckles and other terrible visions of violence involving rings.
When Allen got to my office he indeed did have a scratch on a portion of his lower cheek. It wasn't anything that needed to be treated and his head certainly had been split open by a fist full of metal the way his mother had led me to possibly believe when she hurled out words like 'assaulted.'
Allen and I talked. He said he'd 'accidentally' elbowed the other boy who in turn hit him and scratched him with his rings. When I asked him who had done this, he said he didn't know the boys name but that he was in third grade and had a Star Wars backpack. A third grader?
It didn't require much investigating to find out the boys name and have him summoned my office to join us. When the kid walked in, the first thing I did was ask him to show me his hands.
Sure enough his right hand had three rings on them. Two were of Spiderman and the third was of Darth Vader All three were made of cheap plastic and had come from the top of birthday cupcakes someone had passed out to the class at some point.
Bloods and Crips this was not.
Friday, September 28, 2012
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Mystery No. 2
There's few things worse about being an administrator then having to ask another person to clean up human shit. I've worked with enough custodians and they can see it in your eyes when you approach to break the news. "It's shit isn't it?"
The bathroom can be a nightmare for schools as it's the only location on campus that generally isn't under direct adult supervision at all times. Cameras can't be used like on a bus. The boys bathroom at an elementary school is often even tougher sledding because of the usual lack of male teachers. Of course, the kids know this. For this reason, the bathrooms make logical points for fighting, dealing drugs, sharing answers, and of course, creating misadventures in with number twos.
A few years back in one of our bathrooms in the primary wing of the elementary school we started finding a healthy size log in the urinal every day. Nothing is worse than when it's smeared and played with (which also usually signals serious psychological issues), but again, I'm not the one cleaning it up. When you start having daily 'hey can you clean up the crap' chats with your day custodian you better keep their service in mind when Christmas comes around.
Day after day, log after log, the ordeal carried on. We watched for it, had full staff meetings about the mad shitter, developed plans to strategically monitor the bathroom, charted times of day we discovered the poos, and reminded students of expected behavior. So much for academic focus.
It had become my habit to walk into the particular bathroom that was getting hit anytime I passed it throughout the day at this point. Finally after nearly two weeks of daily 'surprises', I walked into the bathroom to see one of the cuter kids in the school, a little first grader, propped up on the urinal passing his cafeteria roast beef. "Hi Principal!" he excitedly said as he continued his business. He had no idea he was even doing anything wrong.
Asking your custodian to clean up this kind of mess sucks, but having to call a boy's father and alert him that his six year old son doesn't know how to take a dump in public is no picnic either. The father was a fairly even mixture of embarrassed and pissed. He wanted his son to clean toilets as punishment (no no no...), but also produced a number of laughable excuses like the stalls are too high (the urinals are higher...), too loud when they flush, etc. Truth was, no one had ever explained to this poor kid what the different plumbing options were for. He didn't have a urinal at home so this was novel.
Sadly, after we thought we had this mystery solved, the kid kept doing it for a couple more days (more tough custodial chats, more embarrassing phone calls to Dad...). Eventually we developed a plan where a staff member had to enter the bathroom, watch the kid go into the stall, then exit and stand outside till he was done, and then re-enter the bathroom and check the scene. I'm happy to report though that several years from the event that the student is doing well and using the shitter properly. It's the little victories that sometimes matter the most....
The bathroom can be a nightmare for schools as it's the only location on campus that generally isn't under direct adult supervision at all times. Cameras can't be used like on a bus. The boys bathroom at an elementary school is often even tougher sledding because of the usual lack of male teachers. Of course, the kids know this. For this reason, the bathrooms make logical points for fighting, dealing drugs, sharing answers, and of course, creating misadventures in with number twos.
A few years back in one of our bathrooms in the primary wing of the elementary school we started finding a healthy size log in the urinal every day. Nothing is worse than when it's smeared and played with (which also usually signals serious psychological issues), but again, I'm not the one cleaning it up. When you start having daily 'hey can you clean up the crap' chats with your day custodian you better keep their service in mind when Christmas comes around.
Day after day, log after log, the ordeal carried on. We watched for it, had full staff meetings about the mad shitter, developed plans to strategically monitor the bathroom, charted times of day we discovered the poos, and reminded students of expected behavior. So much for academic focus.
It had become my habit to walk into the particular bathroom that was getting hit anytime I passed it throughout the day at this point. Finally after nearly two weeks of daily 'surprises', I walked into the bathroom to see one of the cuter kids in the school, a little first grader, propped up on the urinal passing his cafeteria roast beef. "Hi Principal!" he excitedly said as he continued his business. He had no idea he was even doing anything wrong.
Asking your custodian to clean up this kind of mess sucks, but having to call a boy's father and alert him that his six year old son doesn't know how to take a dump in public is no picnic either. The father was a fairly even mixture of embarrassed and pissed. He wanted his son to clean toilets as punishment (no no no...), but also produced a number of laughable excuses like the stalls are too high (the urinals are higher...), too loud when they flush, etc. Truth was, no one had ever explained to this poor kid what the different plumbing options were for. He didn't have a urinal at home so this was novel.
Sadly, after we thought we had this mystery solved, the kid kept doing it for a couple more days (more tough custodial chats, more embarrassing phone calls to Dad...). Eventually we developed a plan where a staff member had to enter the bathroom, watch the kid go into the stall, then exit and stand outside till he was done, and then re-enter the bathroom and check the scene. I'm happy to report though that several years from the event that the student is doing well and using the shitter properly. It's the little victories that sometimes matter the most....
Friday, September 7, 2012
Not Everyone Is Meant To Be A Teacher
Teaching jobs are difficult to come by in many parts of the country right now. With the economy a mess, retirements are down, and schools are cutting all over the place thus reducing the number of available jobs further. It's certainly a buyers market for hiring administrators and too many talented young teachers are stuck working as aides or substitutes.
However, the above scenario doesn't apply to all points in time nor all locations. My first teaching position was in a school that was like a revolving door for jobs. They annually had so many to fill that they ended hiring people who I believe may have had some mental defects (not sure what that says about me now that I think of it...). The school just didn't get the cream of the crop in terms of applications- particularly in traditionally harder to fill disciplines like math, special education, or foreign language.
But if we thought off season hirings were difficult to fill with good candidates, mid season additions were even more limited. Thus, our next tale.
Our middle school team had gradually increased in the number of students we had and the administration felt that a part time reading teacher was needed. A few days later, Norm Nichols was ushered into our team meeting and introduced by the principal.
Norm was a short chubby guy in his 50s. He hadn't taught in years and prior to apparently being the only candidate without a serious felony on his record, taught theater in some small town (and apparently couldn't hold that gig down). Norm dressed daily in full three-piece suits last worn fashionably by Elliot Ness, and carried a worn leather briefcase (with what inside I have no idea). To top it off, Norm had a toupee that looked more like a fairway divot than human hair and had an eye that was either fake or dead in some variety. One can obviously see how a principal could meet Norm and come to the conclusion that he'd do a good job teaching 8th graders reading in a large urban school.
You can imagine how this went.
Norm taught while we had our shared planning (his part time status, combined with scheduling issues didn't allow him to join us), and did so in my classroom which was directly next door to the room the team met in. Each day we'd hear inconceivable chaos, things (people?) hitting the walls, and then Norm's eventual manic breakdown... "Shut up!!! SHUT UP!!!! SHUT UPPPP!!!!!
At this point, daily, I would go over to rescue him. He'd be dripping in sweat, out of breath, with his 70's tie loosened, and his hair divot hanging off his head. I'd settle the kids about the time the bell would ring, leaving sweet Normy and I uncomfortably alone to chat a little.
"You okay Norm?"
"Oh yes." he'd say as if he really believed it. "We'll get em' tomorrow!"
"Yeah, okay. But, um, Norm... listen. There were textbooks underneath all of the desks when I left here. I see a lot of them missing. Any idea where I might find them. I kind of need them."
"Hmmm. I'm not really sure." he'd say, still trying to catch his breath.
"Ok, we'll figure it out. Don't worry about it. I think we have some extras. But Norm, it appears the picture of my girlfriend has been launched into the wall and possibly stomped on. Any idea which student did that?"
"Hmmm. I don't think anyone was out of their seats..."
Sure Norm. I just watched the wall become temporarily concave as one student likely tackled another during a guided reading of Waiting For The Rain.
"Ok. Well. Have a good afternoon Norm."
Thankfully, Norm wasn't back the following year. Like many great warriors before him, I'll just assume he disappeared into a sunset of door-to-door sale work where his suits likely opened many reluctant doors for him. Or not.
However, the above scenario doesn't apply to all points in time nor all locations. My first teaching position was in a school that was like a revolving door for jobs. They annually had so many to fill that they ended hiring people who I believe may have had some mental defects (not sure what that says about me now that I think of it...). The school just didn't get the cream of the crop in terms of applications- particularly in traditionally harder to fill disciplines like math, special education, or foreign language.
But if we thought off season hirings were difficult to fill with good candidates, mid season additions were even more limited. Thus, our next tale.
Our middle school team had gradually increased in the number of students we had and the administration felt that a part time reading teacher was needed. A few days later, Norm Nichols was ushered into our team meeting and introduced by the principal.
Norm was a short chubby guy in his 50s. He hadn't taught in years and prior to apparently being the only candidate without a serious felony on his record, taught theater in some small town (and apparently couldn't hold that gig down). Norm dressed daily in full three-piece suits last worn fashionably by Elliot Ness, and carried a worn leather briefcase (with what inside I have no idea). To top it off, Norm had a toupee that looked more like a fairway divot than human hair and had an eye that was either fake or dead in some variety. One can obviously see how a principal could meet Norm and come to the conclusion that he'd do a good job teaching 8th graders reading in a large urban school.
You can imagine how this went.
Norm taught while we had our shared planning (his part time status, combined with scheduling issues didn't allow him to join us), and did so in my classroom which was directly next door to the room the team met in. Each day we'd hear inconceivable chaos, things (people?) hitting the walls, and then Norm's eventual manic breakdown... "Shut up!!! SHUT UP!!!! SHUT UPPPP!!!!!
At this point, daily, I would go over to rescue him. He'd be dripping in sweat, out of breath, with his 70's tie loosened, and his hair divot hanging off his head. I'd settle the kids about the time the bell would ring, leaving sweet Normy and I uncomfortably alone to chat a little.
"You okay Norm?"
"Oh yes." he'd say as if he really believed it. "We'll get em' tomorrow!"
"Yeah, okay. But, um, Norm... listen. There were textbooks underneath all of the desks when I left here. I see a lot of them missing. Any idea where I might find them. I kind of need them."
"Hmmm. I'm not really sure." he'd say, still trying to catch his breath.
"Ok, we'll figure it out. Don't worry about it. I think we have some extras. But Norm, it appears the picture of my girlfriend has been launched into the wall and possibly stomped on. Any idea which student did that?"
"Hmmm. I don't think anyone was out of their seats..."
Sure Norm. I just watched the wall become temporarily concave as one student likely tackled another during a guided reading of Waiting For The Rain.
"Ok. Well. Have a good afternoon Norm."
Thankfully, Norm wasn't back the following year. Like many great warriors before him, I'll just assume he disappeared into a sunset of door-to-door sale work where his suits likely opened many reluctant doors for him. Or not.
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Adventures In Institute Days
Several years back I was part of a district who elected to commit all of their professional development time with staff to diversity training. The district was widely diverse and apparently felt that it's teaching staff could both stand to learn to better teach to such diversity, as well acquire some sensitivity to race issues.
While cultural competency and sensitivity are certainly worth while goals, my experience is usually that the trainings fall short of accomplishing what they set out to. They usually start out with trying to disprove misconceptions about traditional stereotypes of different races and demographic groups. The problem here is that no one will actually confess to not already having these skills- as such a confession would basically paint you as a racist in your professional behavior. White people are particularly uncomfortable in this setting as the bulls eye seems squarely aimed on them. So everyone sits there and fidgets.
Well, almost everyone. Beth was a white lady who had a long history of dating black guys. This made her, at least in her mind, both an expert on the topic and certainly immune to any possible suspicion that she might have subconscious stereotypes which affect her teaching.
After going through a number of the usual institute day activities that involve a lot of Post-It notes, chart paper, and bitching (but little learning...) we were ushered back to our seats for a little sharing out. You know- the time where those two people on the staff that never shut the fuck up get to use the whole group as their personal psychiatry couch (outside training groups love these people and encourage with giant smiles and nods)- that time.
Beth was certainly one these types of people and also lacked any sort of filter. When it got to her groups turn to share, Beth as the obvious spokesperson, elected to class up the training for the roughly 60 participants.
"Well I explained to my group that I'm black by injection!"
Presenters don't role play that response out in their trainings and were frozen stiff while teaching staff muttered things like "Jesus Christ Beth" and buried their eyes in their palms out of awkward embarrassment.
"What?! I dated black man for five years! It's not like we weren't have SEX (with added emphasis on the S word for the groups pleasure).
The presenters offered giant dumb grins and head nods (they DO receive training for this...) before telling the room that at this next activity they wanted to hear from other people in the groups so everyone got a turn to share...
While cultural competency and sensitivity are certainly worth while goals, my experience is usually that the trainings fall short of accomplishing what they set out to. They usually start out with trying to disprove misconceptions about traditional stereotypes of different races and demographic groups. The problem here is that no one will actually confess to not already having these skills- as such a confession would basically paint you as a racist in your professional behavior. White people are particularly uncomfortable in this setting as the bulls eye seems squarely aimed on them. So everyone sits there and fidgets.
Well, almost everyone. Beth was a white lady who had a long history of dating black guys. This made her, at least in her mind, both an expert on the topic and certainly immune to any possible suspicion that she might have subconscious stereotypes which affect her teaching.
After going through a number of the usual institute day activities that involve a lot of Post-It notes, chart paper, and bitching (but little learning...) we were ushered back to our seats for a little sharing out. You know- the time where those two people on the staff that never shut the fuck up get to use the whole group as their personal psychiatry couch (outside training groups love these people and encourage with giant smiles and nods)- that time.
Beth was certainly one these types of people and also lacked any sort of filter. When it got to her groups turn to share, Beth as the obvious spokesperson, elected to class up the training for the roughly 60 participants.
"Well I explained to my group that I'm black by injection!"
Presenters don't role play that response out in their trainings and were frozen stiff while teaching staff muttered things like "Jesus Christ Beth" and buried their eyes in their palms out of awkward embarrassment.
"What?! I dated black man for five years! It's not like we weren't have SEX (with added emphasis on the S word for the groups pleasure).
The presenters offered giant dumb grins and head nods (they DO receive training for this...) before telling the room that at this next activity they wanted to hear from other people in the groups so everyone got a turn to share...
Friday, August 17, 2012
Something Stinks Here... (and it's not the lousy coffee)
The weekend before I was set to begin my new teacher orientation at the middle school I had been hired at, my mother sent me a forward.
I pretty much have a strict 'no forwards' policy with all people I know, but particularly with my mother. Of course the difference is that mom doesn't listen and continues to send along crap about "In God We Trust" being taken off of coins, dumb political half truths, as well as information about community events that are aimed at the elderly and don't serve drinks.
This time however, her forward was about teaching. It was the typical crappy worn story about a teacher who made a difference in the life of a child who no one believed in. Of course the kid became a highly successful member of society and returned to tell the teacher how much she'd meant to him (Cue the tears).
Monday morning I arrived to begin my orientation. The morning was filled with highly uncomfortable "get-to-know-you" games better suited for 5th graders than adults, bad coffee, and power points filled with motivational quotes (a starfish is like a child...). Finally, the morning mercifully ended and we were ushered to the cafeteria for a free lunch.
Then we got a real surprise. The new Superintendent was going to be welcoming us while we ate! Move over Elvis!
The new Superintendent had just arrived from a district about 45 miles away which she'd left in shambles. Her reputation was cloudy at best right out of the gate. She said the standard welcome to the district type stuff ("We're excited you're here!", "This is going to be a great year!", "If there's anything I can ever do to help, don't hesitate!").
"And never underestimate the impact you can have on a child. (Dramatic pause) As I leave and let you get back to your delicious lunch, let me share a story from when I was a teacher. I've written it down."
The Superintendent then produced a folded piece of paper from her purse and proceeded to read the EXACT forward my mother had sent me the night before. When she got to the end she cried as the new teachers ripped up in applause! She plagiarized a fucking forward! I don't even know if that's a crime!
Obviously, my remaining time in the district was spent distrusting her phony smiles and enthusiasm after she attempted to dupe us as part of a first impression.
Oh, and if you don't send this tale to seven friends in the next hour your crush won't ask you out and bad things will happen to you.
I pretty much have a strict 'no forwards' policy with all people I know, but particularly with my mother. Of course the difference is that mom doesn't listen and continues to send along crap about "In God We Trust" being taken off of coins, dumb political half truths, as well as information about community events that are aimed at the elderly and don't serve drinks.
This time however, her forward was about teaching. It was the typical crappy worn story about a teacher who made a difference in the life of a child who no one believed in. Of course the kid became a highly successful member of society and returned to tell the teacher how much she'd meant to him (Cue the tears).
Monday morning I arrived to begin my orientation. The morning was filled with highly uncomfortable "get-to-know-you" games better suited for 5th graders than adults, bad coffee, and power points filled with motivational quotes (a starfish is like a child...). Finally, the morning mercifully ended and we were ushered to the cafeteria for a free lunch.
Then we got a real surprise. The new Superintendent was going to be welcoming us while we ate! Move over Elvis!
The new Superintendent had just arrived from a district about 45 miles away which she'd left in shambles. Her reputation was cloudy at best right out of the gate. She said the standard welcome to the district type stuff ("We're excited you're here!", "This is going to be a great year!", "If there's anything I can ever do to help, don't hesitate!").
"And never underestimate the impact you can have on a child. (Dramatic pause) As I leave and let you get back to your delicious lunch, let me share a story from when I was a teacher. I've written it down."
The Superintendent then produced a folded piece of paper from her purse and proceeded to read the EXACT forward my mother had sent me the night before. When she got to the end she cried as the new teachers ripped up in applause! She plagiarized a fucking forward! I don't even know if that's a crime!
Obviously, my remaining time in the district was spent distrusting her phony smiles and enthusiasm after she attempted to dupe us as part of a first impression.
Oh, and if you don't send this tale to seven friends in the next hour your crush won't ask you out and bad things will happen to you.
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
Being A New Teacher Can Make You Hungry!
I sometimes wonder what principals or other administrators see in an interviews that cause them to think, "This individual seems like they'd do a good job."
I'm guessing anyone who has ever been in a teaching program at a university has had the moment where they look around the room at their classmates and think to themselves, "Holy shit, half of these people, thankfully, have no chance to ever get a teaching job." Sadly though, some of them do somehow finagle jobs (and some of them go on to become administrators!). I know a lot of principals who dislike the hiring process and are either lazy or rushed in the approach.
Still, none of this explains how James DiCarlo ever got a job. James was hired as a 7th grade math teacher, who I would have guessed still used his fingers to count. James wouldn't have got through the door if I was interviewing, because I don't think he would have fit. He was the living definition of 'morbidly obese.'
I'm no Adonis, so I'm certainly not trying to cast stones here, but James size was an issue with his professional appearance. He routinely wore shirts that simply didn't have enough material to them. When he'd raise his arms at all, including to write on the board, the lower portion of his belly fat because exposed to a room of frightened pre-teens.
During new teacher orientation, the district provided a lunch for all the new & returning teachers as a way to begin for everyone to get to know each other. The principal's secretary Mary arranged the meal. There was salad, soda, some mediocre pasta, and those dry crappy cookies for desert. The entree, for which this particular place was known for, were giant meatballs. They looked they had been discarded from a 16 inch softball league. Seriously.
Mary ordered one meatball for each person who confirmed attendance (you didn't need more). As I was making my way down from my classroom to join the lunch, I noticed Mary seething off to the side. We got along well so I went over to inquire what was wrong.
"Fucking DiCarlo took eight meatballs!"
I looked over to see James happily munching away at the two plates in front of him. He had four meatballs on each plate stacked in pyramids (three on the bottom, one on top) with noddles cascading down the sides. It appeared he passed on the salad. Michael Phelps doesn't consume this many calories a day. It was the greatest orgy of ground beef I've ever seen, and I hope I never see it again. It did to my chest what looking at the sun does to your eyes. There may have been an entire cow divided on his plates.
Of course, being a gluttonous shabby dressed oaf doesn't make you a bad teacher, but in James case it did. I would imagine the correlation of someone who can't buy clothes that cover their belly, & lacks total social etiquette and being a weak teacher are pretty strong. The kids ate him alive regularly (luckily not the reverse...), and his lessons were about as creative as his wardrobe. By years end, he was gone.
James was a forgettable teacher, but each year as I prepare for the new teacher luncheon, I pause and remember his twin towers of meatball lust. For all you new teachers starting out, remember, everything in moderation.
I'm guessing anyone who has ever been in a teaching program at a university has had the moment where they look around the room at their classmates and think to themselves, "Holy shit, half of these people, thankfully, have no chance to ever get a teaching job." Sadly though, some of them do somehow finagle jobs (and some of them go on to become administrators!). I know a lot of principals who dislike the hiring process and are either lazy or rushed in the approach.
Still, none of this explains how James DiCarlo ever got a job. James was hired as a 7th grade math teacher, who I would have guessed still used his fingers to count. James wouldn't have got through the door if I was interviewing, because I don't think he would have fit. He was the living definition of 'morbidly obese.'
I'm no Adonis, so I'm certainly not trying to cast stones here, but James size was an issue with his professional appearance. He routinely wore shirts that simply didn't have enough material to them. When he'd raise his arms at all, including to write on the board, the lower portion of his belly fat because exposed to a room of frightened pre-teens.
During new teacher orientation, the district provided a lunch for all the new & returning teachers as a way to begin for everyone to get to know each other. The principal's secretary Mary arranged the meal. There was salad, soda, some mediocre pasta, and those dry crappy cookies for desert. The entree, for which this particular place was known for, were giant meatballs. They looked they had been discarded from a 16 inch softball league. Seriously.
Mary ordered one meatball for each person who confirmed attendance (you didn't need more). As I was making my way down from my classroom to join the lunch, I noticed Mary seething off to the side. We got along well so I went over to inquire what was wrong.
"Fucking DiCarlo took eight meatballs!"
I looked over to see James happily munching away at the two plates in front of him. He had four meatballs on each plate stacked in pyramids (three on the bottom, one on top) with noddles cascading down the sides. It appeared he passed on the salad. Michael Phelps doesn't consume this many calories a day. It was the greatest orgy of ground beef I've ever seen, and I hope I never see it again. It did to my chest what looking at the sun does to your eyes. There may have been an entire cow divided on his plates.
Of course, being a gluttonous shabby dressed oaf doesn't make you a bad teacher, but in James case it did. I would imagine the correlation of someone who can't buy clothes that cover their belly, & lacks total social etiquette and being a weak teacher are pretty strong. The kids ate him alive regularly (luckily not the reverse...), and his lessons were about as creative as his wardrobe. By years end, he was gone.
James was a forgettable teacher, but each year as I prepare for the new teacher luncheon, I pause and remember his twin towers of meatball lust. For all you new teachers starting out, remember, everything in moderation.
Thursday, June 7, 2012
So you want a job eh?
As a 12 month employee, I'm often asked what I do in the summer. One of the most critical tasks I usually need to complete is some hiring. The market is terrible in many places right now for teaching jobs, making the few openings that do occur to be even more competitive.
I interviewed yesterday for roughly seven hours. I didn't find anything. No skin off my nose. There are over 1000 applicants for this position. I can afford to be picky, and I will (a mistake many administrators make- NOT being picky/critical). But the quality of the interviews was almost unsettling to me. These candidates, most of them younger, simply interview terribly. It's an embarrassment. How did it get to this? I have to believe the universities have to take some blame for level of preparation these people have. Regardless, and all kidding aside, please consider these basic points if you are interviewing for a teaching job this summer.
1. Can the stale buzz terms and flowery language.
If hear 'life long learner' more one I might kill myself. What the hell does that even mean? I know I didn't hear it coming out of the mouth of any of the retirees at their goodbye speeches a couple weeks ago. When you sit and talk like you are trying to remember the bullet points of a journal article you read in college (reluctantly), you don't set yourself apart from the other candidates- you blend. That's a bad thing if you want to get hired. Further, I have no idea who I'm talking to thus making hiring you even more of a crap shoot. None of my teachers walk around talking about the 'cognitive domain' while at work. Neither will you, and I know this. So cut the shit. Tell me what you really think. I might like it.
Same goes for your resumes. Objective: To get a job. Not: Objective: To maximize my interpersonal skills in an environment that allows me to blah blah blah.
2. Your portfolio is highly unlikely to help (and may hurt you).
Look, some interviewees ask for these things, I get it. If you have one, bring it along. But you don't have to push the thing like the secret to life is housed inside your plastic binder. Again, these things all look the same. If you think pictures of you during student teaching, copies of lesson plans you did during your clinicals, and notes your cooperating teaching sent home and added your name to are going to get your hired you're nuts. Perhaps universities are telling you these things are real game changers. They're not. Of course, if you hand me something with spelling errors, transcripts with low grades, or other otherwise unimpressive items, it might hurt you. I'd advise keeping that in your bag until it is asked for (the arts would be an exception here).
3. Be honest.
Be honest with your self. Obviously don't tell your interviewer that you speak Spanish when you don't. But also don't tell them you do things or are going to do things you know you're not really going to do.
"When I begin to make lesson plans, I always begin by consulting the state standards."
Really? Well, then you'd be the first teacher ever. What do you really do? Don't tell me that method to motivate students to be enthusiastic yourself. "Then the kids will be enthusiastic too!" Go walk around a school in March before spring break and let me know how enthusiasm is holding up.
So what do I say?
The stale terms, the have truths, the desperate pimping of the portfolios: all these things are a result of not really knowing what to say. Obviously, each administrator is different and may be looking for slightly different things, but I'd like to think most are simply looking for great teachers.
Make sure your answers talk about the students- not yourself. Administrators want to hear that your want to to help kids learn- not YOU'VE always dreamed of bring a teacher and that your mom was a teacher. You want to let it be known that you are interested in finding out what the kids like and adjusting lessons accordingly. Administrators want to hear about the great relationships you want to form with students, staff, and parents (and how you're going to do it). They're interested in your creativity, and humble confidence. Notice, none of these things are specific to experience level.
It's not a fair process. Don't beat yourself or over think things.
Over time, you'll interview for a lot more jobs than you'll actually get. When you get the letter or call letting you know you didn't get the job, that hurts. If you've interviewed at several places and gotten several of these letters you begin to feel like a failure or question yourself. It's always good to be reflective, but it's also important to acknowledge this isn't a fair process. Getting a job is often about who you know. You don't know who you are competing with. Often times districts require that X number of candidates be interviewed, but the principal already has an internal candidate or someone from a former district that's basically already got the job. You could wow their pants off and still be told 'no thank you.' Superintendents, mayors, other administrators, teachers, college professors, and even parents offer names when openings occur which create an playing field which is not level for all. This is at times an unfortunate reality.
Even beyond connections, you don't know who you are competing against. If a National Board Certified teacher relocate or decided to return after a maternity leave, even a great interview is going to have a tough job competing with such credentials.
Be persistent.
Apply everywhere. A common mistake is prospective teachers only apply at schools who's teaching jobs are highly desired. Everyone wants those schools and jobs are nearly impossible to get. Huge districts in tough neighborhoods have high turnover and usually have positions to fill. These school need good teachers too. Don't be afraid of what you read in the paper. Kids are kids. And they're awesome at ALL schools.
Good luck! Oh, and if you do speak Spanish, make sure they know that.... :)
I interviewed yesterday for roughly seven hours. I didn't find anything. No skin off my nose. There are over 1000 applicants for this position. I can afford to be picky, and I will (a mistake many administrators make- NOT being picky/critical). But the quality of the interviews was almost unsettling to me. These candidates, most of them younger, simply interview terribly. It's an embarrassment. How did it get to this? I have to believe the universities have to take some blame for level of preparation these people have. Regardless, and all kidding aside, please consider these basic points if you are interviewing for a teaching job this summer.
1. Can the stale buzz terms and flowery language.
If hear 'life long learner' more one I might kill myself. What the hell does that even mean? I know I didn't hear it coming out of the mouth of any of the retirees at their goodbye speeches a couple weeks ago. When you sit and talk like you are trying to remember the bullet points of a journal article you read in college (reluctantly), you don't set yourself apart from the other candidates- you blend. That's a bad thing if you want to get hired. Further, I have no idea who I'm talking to thus making hiring you even more of a crap shoot. None of my teachers walk around talking about the 'cognitive domain' while at work. Neither will you, and I know this. So cut the shit. Tell me what you really think. I might like it.
Same goes for your resumes. Objective: To get a job. Not: Objective: To maximize my interpersonal skills in an environment that allows me to blah blah blah.
2. Your portfolio is highly unlikely to help (and may hurt you).
Look, some interviewees ask for these things, I get it. If you have one, bring it along. But you don't have to push the thing like the secret to life is housed inside your plastic binder. Again, these things all look the same. If you think pictures of you during student teaching, copies of lesson plans you did during your clinicals, and notes your cooperating teaching sent home and added your name to are going to get your hired you're nuts. Perhaps universities are telling you these things are real game changers. They're not. Of course, if you hand me something with spelling errors, transcripts with low grades, or other otherwise unimpressive items, it might hurt you. I'd advise keeping that in your bag until it is asked for (the arts would be an exception here).
3. Be honest.
Be honest with your self. Obviously don't tell your interviewer that you speak Spanish when you don't. But also don't tell them you do things or are going to do things you know you're not really going to do.
"When I begin to make lesson plans, I always begin by consulting the state standards."
Really? Well, then you'd be the first teacher ever. What do you really do? Don't tell me that method to motivate students to be enthusiastic yourself. "Then the kids will be enthusiastic too!" Go walk around a school in March before spring break and let me know how enthusiasm is holding up.
So what do I say?
The stale terms, the have truths, the desperate pimping of the portfolios: all these things are a result of not really knowing what to say. Obviously, each administrator is different and may be looking for slightly different things, but I'd like to think most are simply looking for great teachers.
Make sure your answers talk about the students- not yourself. Administrators want to hear that your want to to help kids learn- not YOU'VE always dreamed of bring a teacher and that your mom was a teacher. You want to let it be known that you are interested in finding out what the kids like and adjusting lessons accordingly. Administrators want to hear about the great relationships you want to form with students, staff, and parents (and how you're going to do it). They're interested in your creativity, and humble confidence. Notice, none of these things are specific to experience level.
It's not a fair process. Don't beat yourself or over think things.
Over time, you'll interview for a lot more jobs than you'll actually get. When you get the letter or call letting you know you didn't get the job, that hurts. If you've interviewed at several places and gotten several of these letters you begin to feel like a failure or question yourself. It's always good to be reflective, but it's also important to acknowledge this isn't a fair process. Getting a job is often about who you know. You don't know who you are competing with. Often times districts require that X number of candidates be interviewed, but the principal already has an internal candidate or someone from a former district that's basically already got the job. You could wow their pants off and still be told 'no thank you.' Superintendents, mayors, other administrators, teachers, college professors, and even parents offer names when openings occur which create an playing field which is not level for all. This is at times an unfortunate reality.
Even beyond connections, you don't know who you are competing against. If a National Board Certified teacher relocate or decided to return after a maternity leave, even a great interview is going to have a tough job competing with such credentials.
Be persistent.
Apply everywhere. A common mistake is prospective teachers only apply at schools who's teaching jobs are highly desired. Everyone wants those schools and jobs are nearly impossible to get. Huge districts in tough neighborhoods have high turnover and usually have positions to fill. These school need good teachers too. Don't be afraid of what you read in the paper. Kids are kids. And they're awesome at ALL schools.
Good luck! Oh, and if you do speak Spanish, make sure they know that.... :)
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