Fallout Begins

Thursday, March 23, 1995

Last night’s entry is abortive, thank god.

I had tried to input some thoughts in the Library onto Mary’s Mac. But other staff came in to talk and so I abandoned the attempt. Plus, I’m not sure I would have been lucid enough to set down what happened yesterday properly.

Not too sure about tonight, either. But here goes...

Yesterday was red and white day. So when we meet at ten-fifty (yes, I was not in 4/4H, leaving them to work on Book Report Essays) to hear the draft of the Committee’s report, it looks like Homecoming. Almost everyone is upbeat, smiling; I’m not sure if it is false hope, optimism after yesterday’s dialogue, or just stupidity.

They walk in at eleven. Stone-faced as usual. We sit down, I next to Aimee... if this is going to get ugly, I want to be near her to give her support. They again thank us for our hospitality and honesty. I’m really beginning to hate hearing about our honesty... there’s something more than double-edged to that compliment. Taratino then apologizes that there are not full copies of the report for us to peruse as they read it to us. It seems our copying machines had gone down, so that a front-office secretary is at this moment frantically page-by-paging it. We will have to share copies which include only the first half of the report. And Taratino sets up the procedure for the meeting. Each member of the Committee will read a section, and then there will be a time for questions and concerns at the end. And so we begin.

Taratino glosses over the opening section, the "general description," basically a restatement of our school and community profile. She then skips over the "progress report," a report on the progress made on the last WASC’s major recommendations, a response to our discussion of those recs. She moves on to section three: "Self-Study," a discussion of our report. It discusses our Action Plan and its three goals (to understand our clientele better, to empower the staff, and to initiate changes in curriculum and methods of delivery). Then there are their responses to our "‘Focus on Learning’ process" and here is where it all starts going downhill. Response two states that even though evidence was collected, "the impact of the program on student learning was very hard to determine." Number five goes on to state that "the Visiting Committee (was) unable to validate whether student learning was taking place." Ouch. Number six discussed the Action Plan "which is almost entirely process oriented...(and) does not tie specific improvements to specific student needs." It goes on to say how the Committee "dialogued extensively" with the leadership team regarding "concerns in this area." Number seven is like another nail in the coffintop: "The process nature of the schoolwide action plan creates a gap between plan and direct student impact...With the generality of the plan, it is hard to predict the direction that the school will take."

I can feel Aimee tense as she is scrambling to write notes in hopes of a rebuttal. What kind of evidence is needed to show learning? What the hell are they talking about? Number six shows how completely out of line all this is... we were charged with creating a process, a plan for the future. And then we are criticized for creating a plan that is "entirely process oriented." Isn’t that what they wanted? Process nature. Generality. We dialogued extensively over these issues. But what was the conclusion of the dialogue? That we were up Shit Creek without a paddle?

Then comes the next section, a discussion of the school program in regard to the "Vision, Leadership, and Culture" focus group. Earlier, in the WASC process, the focus groups had discussed the school program in terms of WASC-provided questions. Before the visitation, when Aimee asked Taratino about how to create our focus group narratives and whether we should structure the narrative around the questions, Taratino said that the questions where just that, questions that could act as a springboard for discussion. The questions were not a framework or a structure. Well, as one of the male members of the Committee settles in to read the discussion of "Vision, Leadership, and Culture" on our campus, we realize we have been had: their response is structured around the questions. But at least this section of the report is not too damaging... it basically outlines that we have vision, little leadership (big surprise there), and only some level of safety on campus.

The next focus group area to be reported is "Curricular Paths." Here we take more hits. While the bilingual department wins kudos, "other departments and paths are problematic." The only problem is that their report doesn’t state that we’ve already listed these areas as ones needing improvement; the tone is harsh. But no more harsh than the next area, "Powerful Teaching and Learning." Many students "do not experience powerful teaching and learning... (with) a rigorous curriculum missing in many classrooms...a striking amount of seat work with worksheets." Worse yet, the Action Plan is attacked as not including "specific step addressing these needs." Of course, the plan--the process--sets up a framework for the identification and then elimination of the problem areas.

At this point, our copies end, and we must simply listen to the rest of the areas. We all jot down notes for rebuttal, but it is difficult without having text before you. The "Support" focus group is next. While the Committee praises the school for creating support services that were non-existent six years ago, it dings us for not having a coordinated system. Of course, this is something we’ve mentioned in our report, but again our recognition of the problem is itself not recognized and the tone seems to be getting even uglier. This may be paranoia, but I’m looking around the table, and everybody looks like they’re being buttfucked sans K-Y.

The last focus group section "Assessment and Accountability" is next, and it now seems they’ve saved the worst for last. It has been "difficult...to determine whether...learning is taking place." We are fucked. We are taken to task for having "traditional" assessment models. And we are pilloried for not linking assessment to the ESLR’s, even though these were created only this year.

Our principal is shellshocked. Aimee looks like she could cry. Others are shaking their heads. And now come the section for "On-Going School Improvement," their recommendations. Again, the Action Plan is "so process oriented that what the plan is to accomplish is not clear." Then a Top Ten list of "urge(d)" recommendations. Of course, five of them are directly covered in the Action Plan, another three are alluded to; but does their report state that we’ve already recognized these as areas to change? No. Another rec--that the administration needs to clarify its leadership role--I actually like, but this is poor consolation now. We can all feel the axe about to fall, on us, on our school, on our schedule.

And Taratino pauses for questions. What she gets is an attack. Harold Laws calls the report a kick in the teeth, mean-spirited. Nods of approval come from around the table. Taratino tries to state that this is really a supportive report, but Harold is on her immediately. He alludes to the tone. And more than nods chime in. We smell blood, and, even if it’s our own, we are attacking. Aimee, trying to remain calm, goes after items one by one, in order. This only gives others of us time to gather our thoughts before attacking. Even the old (as in retiring) activity director goes on the offensive (spurred on by, I’m sure, the statement that most students feel student government is irrelevant). The Committee takes notes, say they’ll re-look at the language and the tone. And I cannot hold my tongue.

"The thing that really bothers me," I begin, "is that we were charged to create a process, a plan, a framework for change. And damnit, we did that. We took the big leap. We delivered. And all I hear is how our plan is too much a process. How can a process be too much a process? It’s tough to assess a process. We know. We’re teachers. But it seems you wanted a product that you could put through a checklist--"

And Taratino cuts me off. Now she’s on the offensive. Her tone is biting, brutal. But I don’t give a fuck. I must have touched a nerve.

And Jack Knight steps in, the patriarch. The one assistant principal--hell, the one administrator--who has my respect, gives an impassioned speech, one that announces that he won’t be around for the next WASC, but he will be in the community. His fear is that when these seven pack it in and leave, they will leave in their wake a gutted program because, as he explains, the district is looking for any excuse it can to revoke our block system. He speaks eloquently of our staff and its commitment to change, as evidence in that block schedule and our Action Plan. He warns that his staff has worked too hard to be treated so rudely. His voice nearly breaks near the end of the speech.

And that sends most of the women into tears. Aimee, barely holding it together, demands that our Yearbook and Journalism programs be commended for doing exactly what WASC stated should be happening, creating a school/work experiential link. Taratino’s only response is "You’re right. We forgot to include that. We’ll put in something about the Photography program." She must be reminded that we’re talking about the Writing for Publication class.

Taratino looks like a fool.

The one parent on the committee speaks up. She too warns of the dire consequences of this harsh a report. She uses a wonderful analogy. Our campus has always been on the back-burner of our district’s stove. If this report goes out as is, we’ll be taken off the stovetop and shoved in the icebox. My ass already feels cold.

Harold again goes into the harshness of the report, questioning whether our campus has done anything over the past six years. Yes, Taratino responds...it’s all in the section on the response to the last WASC; that’s purely positive, she contends. Then why not read that, everyone seems to shout. It will be read this afternoon before the full staff. And now the Committee must leave to create its final draft.

The leadership team disperses quickly, leaving behind only Aimee, Mary, Alice (the parent), Harold, Bob, Lori and me. The ladies are in tears, Harold, Bob and I fuming. This will not get us a six. We’ll be lucky to get a three. We begin to talk, but decide it’s better to move to the Professional Room for privacy.

There, we commiserate. It’s all we can do. Talk begins of appeals and rebuttals. We all give our takes on what has happened. Bob is the staff conspiratologist, so the Committee talked to GoD at the d.o. and was given the charge to fuck us over. Harold begins a cynical view that we really should have known better and we should have just lied our way through...this is what we get by playing by the rules. My take is that we did what we were supposed to do. We dove into risky waters; we had the confidence of the righteous. And the Committee was just gutless--or in Aimee’s son Devon’s phraseology "Devon... (has a) pee-pee; Committee...no pee-pee"--they weren’t ready to dive into the process, to accept a far-reaching vision. Six of the seven members were administrators; these are people used to giving orders to teachers--do this, at this time, don’t ask questions. Ours was a truly staff-empowering vision. And I don’t think they could accept that.

But basically, we’re just trying to keep the anger going because once the anger dissipates, the depression will sink in and we’ll be in that state for a long time.

Aimee looks like she wants to die. I touch her shoulder. I know her fairly well, but not well enough to know if a hug is what she needs, or just a hand on her shoulder or arm. I’m not sure even of what I need at the moment. And at the end of lunch, we all break off and go to our rooms to wait the next hour and a half before the Committee reads its poison-pen letter to the full staff.

And at two-thirty, the Library is packed. Harold and Aimee sit side-by-side, in front of me; for a moment I feel five years old again, riding in the back seat, just over the shoulders of mom and dad. Only now Mary’s by my side, and just before us and next to Harold is Alice, with this morning’s copies in hand, ready to mark changes.

The Committee enters. At first, it looks like they’re going to stand behind the magazine check-out counter. Gutless fucks. But then they sit before us. And go into the report. This time they read section two, the "Progress Report." And it sounds positive. And familiar. They’ve lifted it word for word from our response to the major recommendations. I should know; I inputted it into the computer. Boy, they really burnt the midnight oil doing their job.

And they go through their report. Mary and Harold and even Aimee seem somewhat calmer this time through. Is it the fact that they’re reading the report with more intonation now? Or is it not as painful the second time you get reamed? Small changes are made, the verbal--as opposed to oral--tone does seem to be softer in places. By the end it’s a little better, but only by a little. And they are out the door faster than you can even imagine.

An hour later, many of us congregate at Yolanda’s. There must be at least twenty of us there, many are already into round two as I come in, getting a ride with Aimee (I don’t want to have to drive back to school for Knowledge Bowl...I just want to get shitfaced). There are some Mission Oaks people here, too. Others I don’t recognize. I learn later the unrecognizable ones are members of the M.O. visiting Committee. I guess they bonded. Hell, if we had had a drinkin’ Committee (instead of the tightasses we got), we’d have gotten a twelve. oh, well. let’s start drinking.

By the time some of us get a table for food nearly two hours later, I’ve had three Long Island Iced Teas. I think I had one at dinner; I can’t remember, it could have been two. We laughed through three hours...it was the only thing to keep us from cryin’. We played games: Which member of the Committee would you like to see get the flesh-eating bacteria? Whose district would you like to visit as part of a WASC visitation Committee (Hello, Tortalini, I’m Bill... remember me?).

Yesterday’s journal was the abortive paragraph written in the Library. It was interrupted by a discussion with both Bob and Jack, the night custodian. We all three reminisced about Frankie. I guess I knew then that today would be the most dismal and depressed day on this campus since the day Frankie passed on...

Today begins with my arrival at seven. After I put my stuff in my room, I head toward the lounge, to see Aimee and see how she’s holding up. As I’m heading down the hall, here comes Bob, grinning ear to ear.

"How ya feelin’, big fella?" he calls out.

"I’m here. You?"

"I just wanted to check on you. Just saw Aimee...she said I could get some aspirin out of her room."

"I’ve got some...want it?"

He took the aspirin, and we headed down the hall. He told me of the M.O. drinking crew. Un. Believable. I head to the lounge, where everyone is subdued. Everyone asks how I’m holding up...I’m not sure if they’re referring to my reaction to the report or the four/five Teas from last night. I’m hanging in there, I tell them.

Outside, Harold is recounting his dream from last night. It’s part of the hellish draft-reading meeting. After we’ve been reamed, Taratino introduces a consultant who can teach us how to teach. Harold can’t make out his face clearly, all he sees is one of those consultant’s smug, I’m-getting-paid-an-outrageous-amount-of-bucks-so-you-won’t-be-getting-a-raise-for-the-next-three-years grins. And he hands out worksheets to the staff, to have them filled out. And Harold looks up to see the face of one of the most inept social science teachers on campus, a real drill and killer, a worksheet king. Harold says he woke laughing hysterically. Lucky him.

Some teachers pull me aside to tell me that they thought we had done a wonderful job, and that the WASC Committee really treated our staff poorly. All I can do is agree.

I don’t find Aimee. I’m a little worried...

At lunch, I finally do track her down. She’s been meeting with other teachers, all of whom want to reconvene members of the ad hoc student group to find out what has been said, especially since we’ve learned the format of the session. The Committee members asked the students if they could think of anything positive about the school. Few hands. Negative? A landslide (like any other school would be different). Then the Committee asked questions about the quick availability of drugs and weapons on campus. So at least we now know why the comments about school safety came up in the report.

Our fearless leader has already started opening doors to appeal and rebuttal. And supposedly, Ortiz was called in on the carpet today. But these are only hopeful twinkles in an ultimately black sky.

Today was dismal. Tomorrow, the members of the writing team are supposed to meet in the quad at lunch for recognition. What are they gonna do, pillory us? Anyway, tomorrow is another day, and another happy hour.

Send me again to that island of long...