Friday, April 7, 1995
It is now eight-thirty-nine, I still have the English 4/4Honors book report essays to grade before I'm finished with third term, but I'm at the keyboard to enter the last journal entry for the term. It could be a long one.
Or it could be short. Would it matter?
This morning I arrive at the teachers' lounge to find some of my colleagues still/already bemoaning the events of yesterday. A disgruntled teacher has already scrawled across the posted class size information for next term, "NEVER MIND..." thus summing up the opinion of at least half the staff. Gallows humor prevails with one teacher asking how we'll adapt to a six-period day...the response is that we'll just cut our worksheets in half. We'll have to renumber the second half, but that's okay. What wags.
On my way out, I run into Aimee coming in. She apologizes for not calling me last night; she had been deluged by phone calls. I ask her how she feels. She says that last night was like a rollercoaster, one minute it was fight, the next it was flight. She had wanted to tell Bruce to take her off the voluntary CoreLit readers list for the summer (if the district wasn't going to support us, then she wasn't going to support the district). She says she wants to fight the district, but she doesn't want to do it unless the staff is one-hundred-percent behind a fight.
She looks around the room and leans close. She wants to talk to me, though. She pulls me aside to tell me that there is a contingency of faculty that wants to fight the sup's proclamation. This sounds good. But how? Some of the ESL teachers are saying that a lawsuit could be filed claiming discrimination against our predominate demographic. I shake my head on this one.
No way. I don't believe in discrimination suits in the first place, and I certainly don't see the district's action as discriminatory. Maybe against our campus. Maybe. But not against Latino students. If the only way we can fight the decree is through a bogus lawsuit, then fuck it, I want no part of it. The ends do not justify the means. At least not in this case. I tell her this. I'm not sure how she is taking this. Have I betrayed her trust? Have I concurred with her secret feelings? I'm not sure, and I don't have time to ask since one of the ESL teachers comes up and tells Aimee that she can rally the Hispanic community in support of our old schedule, and they can "raise some hell" since this is a clear-cut case of discrimination. Aimee shoots me a glance and I keep my mouth shut. In fact, it's so shut, it's out the door.
As I leave, I glance at the daily student bulletin. In the faculty section is a notice reminding some of us about the possibility of a videotape of Kurtzmann's message. Kurtzmann would rather personally meet with us as a group if we feel the need to talk about the situation with him. Yeah, riqht.
(Wait a minute. The bulletin goes to press at noon the day before its release. This means Grey and the office staff knew what was going down hours before the meeting, at least. Suddenly, I'm feeling like Johnston the conspiratologist, seeing a massive orchestration on all of this. I look up. Grey is standing in the hallway. I go over, hold up a hand like a cop stopping traffic, and smilingly tell her that I'll pass on the private audience... I have a pretty good picture of what went down yesterday and I don't need it in super-slo-mo instant replay.)
The warning bell rings and I'm off to first period.
During second period, we receive in our classes a special take-home bulletin for the students from Grey, outlining the shift from a four-period day to a six-period day, effective in the fall. It calls the change "a decision... reached for Chumash" because of the need for "increased instructional time for all students, a continuity of academic classes across the school year by semester instead of quarter and a better sequencing of courses." The kids are bummed.
Of course, my seniors third period are breathing sighs of relief. They're outtahere in June. We spend the shortened period talking about all of this. They question why the shift is made. I tell them of the district's discomfort at having some students leave campus at twelve-thirty. They rebut with the fact that most of those students are either working or attending classes at the local junior college (though this is not necessarily true for the freshmen). I repeat the lack of real positive change in test scores. They ask if the scores have gone down. No. Are less kids graduating? No. Are more kids dropping out? No. Are grades down? No. And so why are we changing back? The kids say that unless the new system is having bad effects, it should stay. Now, this sounds logical, but I tell them about leaving campus early. Of academic continuity. I tell them that for an Honors class, it would be more beneficial to have a year-long course since I would be able to assign readings from September to June. This they see, and some agree...for this, their own class. But for the school at large, they're not buying it. They've been in literature-based English classes their entire high school careers, and so they say having a break between lit courses is not damaging. I don't know what to tell them. Other than they're right.
They ask how long a class period will be next year. I tell them if we go six periods a day, then most likely classes will be around fifty-four minutes long. One student laughs out loud. "You're kidding, right? By the time roll is taken, papers handed back, homework gone over, you'll get to ask one student one question and the period will be over and we'll be doing the Chumash Shuffle out there again..." and she thumbs outside.
The Chumash Shuffle. That was good. The slow crawl from class to class. I'm moving but I'm going nowhere. Slowly.
They ask what they can do. Student action? Walkouts? No way, I say. I tell them that I think that if they try anything like that, the district will be even more hard-line about all this and will come down on this campus like an iron boot. No student action. Parent action, I say, is another matter. The Grey flyer mentioned a parent meeting the Wednesday we come back from break. This could be used as a show of force. But as I tell them, volume will not be important, numbers will. If five vocal parents show up, it will mean nothing. If five hundred unified parents show, then the board will run scared. Votes and voters matter to elected officials, and they can overthrow the superintendent. But all of this seems doubtful since the parent meeting is nearly two weeks away. There is more than enough time to cool and forget.
And Kurtzmann's timing is now seeming impeccable. Not only does he wait for the WASC visitation to be over, for both a way to avoid providing true evidence of district non-support and a reason to pull the plug, and not only does he wait for the end-of-March deadline for voluntary staff transfers to pass, but he also springs this one day before spring break, allowing no chance for pre-break parental uprising and creating an instant two-week cooling period to forstall any later parental outcry. Maybe there is a brain alive at the d.o.. Too bad it's Hitler's.
After fourth period (during which I cover for Cookie, taking over her Creative Writing class, and discussing the schedule change again), I head over to Aimee's room to check on her. She looks okay, tells me that she's heading over for an emergency Leadership Team meeting--convened by Jack Knight (who, according to some, has now found a way to be principal in action if not in title)--and asks if I want to tag along (since the Team has on open-door, open-ear policy). What the hell.
When we arrive late, Grey is already speaking to the Team. She's not on the Team, having not been elected by the staff, but she's there (I guess) to give the district line (fitting, since it's becoming increasingly obvious that she knew beforehand that this was coming). She says that the public line from the school will be that we are moving into what "we" are calling "Plan Three." Plan One was the traditional six-period day that we used for decades. Plan Two had been our experimentation with the four-period block schedule. Plan Three is now a return to six periods, using the lessons we've learned during our experiment to create the "best of both worlds."
It is pure horseshit. It's Plan Three from Outer Space. Ed Wood should be directing this, but we have Grey, instead. And either she has so convinced herself that this is the right story to tell parents and the press, or she's in pure capitulation to the district, that this is the new party line. Know it, love it, live it. And she states that this is the way it is going to be, and that we'll just have to deal with it. If we feel that "gee we didn't get our way, so fuck it (my words, not hers) I'm not going to work on this anymore" then we give up all say in what our school will be. It's almost a reprimand.
By this point, some other non-Team members are trickling in to listen, and I'm taking notes. My first note is to myself; it reads, "boy am i glad i'm not on the LT". The meeting goes around the table...random thoughts.
Johnston: He feels that Kurtzmann has invalidated the Action Plan, since it had been predicated on a block schedule (for its flexibility). Knight disagrees, saying that the Action Plan can go forward, that nothing outside of this campus can stop it. (yeah, right)
Lori Teller: She feels we are underestimating the power of our community and parents. She foresees a great outcry from the community and a possible (if not overturning of Kurtzmann's decree, then at least a) softening of position and the buying of possible time.
Knight: He is concerned by a lack of time flexibility in a six-period day. So his suggestion is a program that is different. Kurtzmann pulled the plug on our block schedule, but he didn't necessarily mandate a six-period day. (This is a new interpretation that I had not heard. I like it.) Knight claims that Kurtzmann waffled, that he never laid down concrete parameters. Thus, we have different interpretations from people who all listened to the same speech. This, he sees, is the loophole.
Grey: She lays down the time-frame. If we are going to submit a new plan, rather than a traditional six-period day, it will have to happen fast. She tells the group that counselors will be finishing up four-period registration the week we return. Then they're going to have a computer run of flimsies (tentative schedules) and begin to use those for regrouping and doing six-period registration. Thus, "you" have a week to create a new plan. The Leadership Team is taken aback. Okay, you have until the 27th, which is the school board's next meeting. So that's the time-frame. And Grey leaves.
Hamm: She wants to know if anyone thinks that the parents can make a difference. No one knows for sure. And Lorraine Washington--the former teacher/present counselor newly elected to the Team--speaks out on teachers being too extreme in telling students to get their parents involved. This ruffles feathers on the Team, who see this as the only response that can get anywhere with the district (since the d.o. won't listen to teachers or students...only voters).
Washington: She claims that it's obvious that the d.o. wants a six-period day. She then says we have two options: complain and be forced into a six-period day, or go to a six-period day on our own but make it our own. Johnston flashes Aimee then me a look. He's been dissatisfied with Washington’s performance on the Team from the second meeting, in which he (and other members, including Hamm) perceived her as being less than enthusiastic for implementing the Action Plan as written, and dragging her feet.
(I had tried to come to her defense, using the classic "nature versus nurture" argument. She used to be a teacher--one of us--but now she was a counselor--one of them. She is bound to have a new perspective on things. Plus, being elected by teachers, she must be feeling heat now from her colleagues in the counseling office, pushing her to take their side not ours.)
Of course, Bob has been reading The Hot Zone, and he's sure that there's an airborne virus in the front office that reduces the victims' IQs by five points a year. He is incredibly dissatisfied.
Baird: He disagrees with Washington, bringing the discussion back on course, saying that different configurations could work. He raises two alternatives, both based on the concept of combining both terms at the same time. One alternative has us continuing our four-period a day block schedule, only now alternating days; Monday would be the equivalent of terms one and two, Tuesday terms three and four, alternating back and forth, so that a "week's worth of material would be cycled through every two weeks and the classes would meet from September to June (thus meeting the district's demand for semester continuity). The second alternative is a variation on the first, with one day a week being an eight-period day, with all classes meeting for forty-five minutes, and the remaining four days alternating back and forth between four-period blocks as in the first alternative. The Team begins to lean toward this first alternative, despite Johnston's declaration that this schedule is the one "dumped" by Oceanview High (in the Ventura district) seven years ago as being ineffective. For them, Baird counters, but maybe not for our clientele. The Team, still wanting some form of block schedule, begins to clutch on to this alternative.
Some members toss in devil's advocate arguments, however. Number of teacher preparations. Class sizes. Number of "daily" contacts. All of these issues are raised. None are clarified, but neither are they meant to be at this time; it's just brainstorming. Some members are getting hopeful again, but only cautiously so. They outline the proposal, agree to try to sell Kurtzmann on the idea. If he buys in and is willing to compromise, the Leadership Team can work on the faculty. Planning continues to take place.
By the end of the meeting, things are looking up. For a minute. But then Washington reiterates her problem with teachers encouraging parental complaints. Knight says that we've got the message already, that she's running the idea into the ground. Cedric, a campus supervisor and a listener-in, comes to Washington’s defense, and Knight and he go at it. My last note is "gonna get ugly".
I look at Aimee. The meeting is breaking up. And we leave--quickly--together. She questions me as we walk across campus on my take on the Washington situation. I still think she's feeling heat. She's one of us, but she can't be anymore. And that level of frustration is building within her, we see she's not what she was, and we're taking it out on her. But I see it all as part of the larger Kurtzmann-Solution. Divide and conquer. Get the staff bickering amongst itself, and the individual members won't be able to fight any outside force.
Jesus, I sound like Johnston. Like Kurtzmann could control Washington or instigate her to irritate Team members. I laugh it off to Aimee. We need some rest. Thank god break is here. We all need it now. And we're probably gonna need it for the term to come.
No comments:
Post a Comment