Common Core

Some years back I was hired to teach 7th grade science at a school frustrated by its low test scores in the arena. Despite it perfect-community-school demographic, the school was scoring dead-last city- wide in its end-of-level science scores. I was hired for a number of reasons, but I think two really stand out. I'd been accustomed to teaching science on a full-year schedule; the school was on a semester rotation with all the kids filtering through one teacher in large classes. They needed somebody with the background to expand their program out curriculum-wise. The second reason for their decision to hire me, I think, was that I was coming from Texas. I knew a LOT about standardized testing.

Within one year, our school went from last to first in the rankings.

It wasn't just me, of course. The school made many good choices that year. They offered more sections of science, making the classes smaller. The expanded year teaching ensured that each child had science education up until the time of the test. Science became less about study guides and more about hands-on experiences and labs as we expanded our curriculum. So yes, smaller classes and more seat time, what the teachers always tout as the magic elixirs of education absolutely worked. However, I would also submit that my colleague and I became committed to teaching the standards to which the kids would be tested. We pored over them exhaustively and adapted our curriculum accordingly, hitting each vocabulary word and concept with renewed vigor. Our renewed commitment to the best pedagogical practices we knew, in the end, were largely driven by a need for improved test scores.

If this sounds like I'm of two minds for testing then you are reading this correctly. The parents are right, more local control is needed--in that classroom teachers need more autonomy, not that school boards should guide classroom content. The teachers are right. We need classrooms of no larger than 24 students and the resources necessary to make student learning up-to-date, relevant and dynamic. The politicians are right. All of this money spent should MEAN something measurable.

I do think that when a child graduates from high school, the diploma should mean something. An "A" should not be handed out because a student did enough extra credit by taking stats for the track team when the coach/teacher was in a bind. Teachers have traditionally allowed for a lot of crazy stuff totally unrelated to an understanding of the subject to count for "points." In the end, you have an arbitrary bundle of meaningless grades, kids teacher-shopping for the most grade-friendly instructors, and diplomas that aren't worth the paper on which they are printed.

Standards keep teachers focused. Good assessments keep them honest. And by honest, I don't necessarily mean truthful. I mean honest with how their class time (read: taxpayer dollars) is spent. There must be a system of accountability in place for both teachers and students.

Having said that, however (you all know me well enough by now to know there is nearly always a however coming), the idea that education can pour in children as culturally, mentally, ethnically, and economically diverse as any you will find in the world into a machine and churn out the an ideal learner with the same set of skills is not only unreasonable, but it might not even be desirable.

When we insist that each child be tested to an identical set of standards with no wiggle room then we are stifling creativity, individuality, joy, curiosity. Many of our important innovators, thinkers, writers and artists have had very unconventional paths to greatness. To attempt to put every child on some kind of standardized or "normal" path is to shoot ourselves in the proverbial foot as far as the future is concerned. And to quote Princess Leia (or paraphrase), the tighter we grip, the more students will slip through our fingers.

As for Common Core.

Each state has developed curriculum standards for all levels of education. In some states these are very good. In some states these are just terrible. A curriculum standard is harder than you think to write--it must be sufficiently vague that you aren't just giving lists of facts and vocabulary for students to memorize and regurgitate, but also sufficiently specific that it can be measured. The Common Core grew out of an effort to try and align the states in some kind of cohesive standard. This part of it is not so bad.

For example, it is ludicrous that a group of highly conservative people in one part of a state can mandate through lobbying money or floor votes that certain scientific concepts (thinking most immediately of global warming and evolution) not be taught. Or that history be taught properly--from the viewpoint of the vanquished as well as the conquerors with a critical and thoughtful eye to our own not-always-gloried past. Common Core is, in part, an attempt to stop local school boards from willfully keeping children ignorant of the larger world and the facts that help organize and define it.

This is one reason why conservatives are becoming increasingly vocal about Common Core. They fear that the standards (actually fairly vague; everyone should read these before freaking out) are an attempt to brainwash their children into skepticism and liberal thinking. In truth, Common Core standards are an effort to help children learn to think. Period. If their faith traditions cannot stand up to all this "thinking" and "choice" then what possible good are those traditions, anyway? The more adversarial conservatives make school (vs. religion too often) the more children will be lost either to critical thinking or to religion. This false dichotomy, I am convinced, is a trick of Satan. The idea that deep intelligence and faith are mutually exclusive denies the very nature of God.

Ahem. Back on track.

So while I think Common Core standards that states adopt or at least align their own standards to is a good thing; I have a much harder time with Common Core assessments. Two examples to help explain this.

At my current school we are supposed to be aligning our assessments with one another. There are five of us teaching the class I'm teaching, three of us with fairly strong opinions. While we have all agreed on the standards, each of us are teaching them in slightly different ways based on our own personalities, interests and gifts. As a result, we feel to emphasize different things in our testing, as well as the nature of our tests. One of the teachers has a standard that I would say is much higher, but he gets frustrated when the kids don't already come to his class with a skill set he thinks they should have. However, my teaching philosophy is much more geared to meeting the kids where they are at and then scaffolding them to greater learning, understanding, interest. Is my class a little easier? At least initially, probably yes. But in the end, I think my students may stand a better chance of actually meeting the burden of proof regarding our standards. I don't know; I can't say at this point.

In other words, five teachers cannot even agree entirely on a common assessment to give our kids; Common Core assessments work from the idea that thousands of teachers will get on board with what is being taught and tested.

Second anecdote--back to the same school I began this piece with. My colleague and I prepared our kids very carefully according to curriculum standards with particular attention to vocabulary so that the students would know how to "speak" the language on the test. The curriculum standard regarding heredity was quite thorough, but also left off the term "DNA" in regards to heritability. You can actually teach a lot about genetics without ever talking about the specific biochemistry of your cells. And for 7th graders, this is quite appropriate. You can save the technical stuff for high school biology. We carefully avoided any mention of DNA so as to not confuse the kids and to save a week's worth of time when we could be focused on the core.

Test time rolled around. Sure enough, one of the heritability questions used the terminology "DNA" in one of the questions. I was deeply frustrated. The question, if reworded to reflect what was actually in the standard, could have been answered by nearly every one of my students and still shown a very thorough grasp of heritability. As it is, I bet many of my kids saw that unfamiliar acronym and just guessed on the question.

In other words, the danger of common assessment is that it will still be a small group of people writing the assessment. There is no way for me to teach to a test (not a horrible thing by the way--I'll end on that note in a moment), that I have never seen before and which may or may not align to the curriculum standards the way I'm reading them. In addition, to assume that this test written by somebody else is the BEST possible measurement of the learning taking place in my classroom is to discount my own learning and expertise.

When I structure a class from the ground up, I look at objectives provided by the state (Common Core based in Oregon) and then I "unpack" them--extrapolating my own course objectives (in student friendly language) based on these standards with a vocabulary list for each standard. Then I write a test. What do I want the kids to know? do? understand? explain? analyze? calculate? etc. etc. Then I build my content around helping them meet these goals. Parents and too many teachers are becoming increasingly critical of "teaching to the test" but I prefer to look at it like teaching to the objectives . . . students should look at it like learning to meet their goals.

Teachers should be allowed the autonomy in their classrooms, if not to design their own learning targets (there should be some consistency across schools, after all), then at the very least to build their own assessments (at least in part) and certainly design their own assignments. If there is only one right way to teach, assess and learn, then we should just plug them all into headphones and show them videos of master teachers all day with tests afterward.

In short, I think that states should align their standards with some kind of common core, but I am very much against nationalized, standardized testing for individual courses or subjects. I think that the Department of Education should function like the National Science Foundations--as a granting agency that provides money for schools and districts (not even states) that show innovative ways to teach; the efficacy of which are yes, measurable by some local or even state standard. Each state has their own way of training and retaining teachers, as well as conferences and standards for teaching. The structures already in place allow for better dovetailing of standards and assessment. Schools were given to the states; they should be allowed to stay there. 

Now I've covered everything. Almost quite literally. See what you get after a long silence? I'll stick to pictures for the next few months. Then we'll talk about how much good could be done for education in my state if the army chose to build ONE less plan next year to the tune of 500 million dollars. What if it built fifty fewer planes? How much good might we do in a single generation if we truly started funding schools in a way that matches our rhetoric for how important education is?

New beginnings

It seems like a good time to change the way things roll around here. I started work today, and though this is a thing I have wanted and worked toward for some time, it is not without its challenges. One of those is, naturally, finding ways to keep up with my hobbies. I will continue with full essays at Aspiring Mormon Women, but I think for the school year I am going to try a picture a day(ish). I may still write when the mood really strikes me, but I think a pictorial year in the life of Science Teacher Mommy could be fun.

This might be the last really great meal my family gets for a few weeks, but I wanted to try. Ratatouille over polenta with steak and salad.

The ratatouille was Padawan's idea. We will see if he likes it when he actually tries it!

Temple

I think our Father in Heaven communicates with each of us in somewhat different ways. It makes sense; each person is unique in the way they learn. We are each a combination of our history, natural ability, the way we process information and our willingness to learn. Therefore, it stands to reason, that if loving Heavenly Parents are omniscient and know us the best, then they would seek out ways to give us guidance that best suit us. 

From the very first time I attended the temple, I learned that my Father in Heaven has great capacity to reach me when I am there. It is one of very few places that I'm still and not busy. I realize this is not the case for everyone, and my intention here today is not to tell you that you are duty bound to be there THIS WEEK. I only wish to express gratitude for my experience there last night.

Usually our temple attendance takes some long term organization and planning, because it is about 7 hour round trip when we go, but last might was more thrown together on a whim late Thursday. I had just interviewed for a job (the second in the week) and thought I was in need of some direction and help making a decision. Both interviews went well and I had every confidence that I would make it through to the next round for both.

Within 15 minutes of leaving on Friday, I got a call from one of the principals at an interviewing school. It was a rejection, but it was the strangest rejection ever. She seemed legitimately sad to be not choosing me, saying that she just saw me in a high school position. That comment was strange, considering most of my experience has been in middle school. Her tone and other words were equally strange. I think she is really hopeful that I get the high school job I applied for . . . her own students feed into the other school. Anyway, it was just weird. And yes, rather disappointing. My next thought was then to go to the temple with fervent prayers that the other job would work out.

Fast-forward four hours later to the temple session. I felt really happy there--probably more attentive and reverent than I normally am. And I felt fine about the rejection, but with no need to pray about the other.  I didn't really have a strong impression that it will happen for me, necessarily. Instead I mostly felt very impressed that whatever happens we are in God's hands. There was a gentle reminder that He knows both our needs and wants and that He has never let us down yet. For some shining moments last night I knew that God recognizes our consecrated efforts to His Church and our family, and He will not let us down.

I am not without wonder and some anxiety about what happens next for us; it is my nature to be this way. But I'm not without faith, and I know that we have prepared both spiritually and temporally for whatever the Lord has in store for us next. Things may not unfold in the coming weeks how I want them too, but I believe today that they will transpire how they are meant to.

Random Stuff and Head Hunting

I was head-hunted for a job yesterday.

Okay, it is kind-of a job. One of my professors had his TA quit on him and when the personnel person asked him to submit a list of students he would chose to replace this person, he put my name at the top of the list! I am sure it is because I use terms like "personnel person." I have had him for a couple of classes, and his research is all in middle school science.  The class is all on-line, and my work will be too. It is a very good resume builder for my field--now I will have experience both taking and teaching on-line courses. This professor isn't very old; I probably have more teaching experience than he does, actually.

This situation arose like so many have in the past. You know that I quit my newspaper job in June, and that some weird, unexpected expenses have come up since then. I have been very worried, truthfully, and also wondering how we could afford to fly to Utah for Christmas. (Padawan wants to be baptized there; his birthday is in December.) And, like so many answers in to money questions we've had in the last decade, work opportunities have arisen.

It is the first time in a lot of years that I'll be working at a regular job that I really love. (I love tutoring too, but the work is spotty.) And it is the first time ever that somebody came looking for me. The excitement I felt at the offer tells me that I'm really in the right place.

The next random thing is that I just got an e-mail from Michaels that says they can give me "low-stress holiday help." Yeah, right. Going to Michaels for more Christmas decorations when there are already five boxes in my attic that don't fit in my house, is really the ticket for de-stressing. Oh, and thinking about Christmas three months ahead of time is going to help me simplify my life too.

The last thing is two shout-outs to famous Mormons.

The first is to Joanna Brooks, who reposted my last post on her Facebook page and garnered over three hundred hits! I sent her a friend-message after I saw her on the Jon Stewart show because I appreciated with how much aplomb she handled herself. (I also appreciate spell check for helping me spell aplomb--it only took four tries.) She graciously answered. On the Daily Show she was lovely and together and progressive without being disrespectful. I'm not a Mormon feminist. I just can't lump myself there, but I do appreciate in a lot of ways what she is trying to do. Besides that she was wearing turquoise jewelry with a red dress and her hair is fabulous. Go Mormon women!

The second shout-out is to Mitt Romney. I voted for Barack Obama in the last election, and am part of that 47% in his pocket for this election. I don't believe I am entitled to government handouts. Health care, food, or handouts. I work hard and help my neighbor and live within my budget. If the tax code changes I will do my part; I think more Americans need some skin in the game. If you are elected, you will be my president, and I sincerely hope that you don't write me off because it is not your job to worry about Americans who didn't vote for you. That's all.

Dreaming Redux

It might have been helpful if I had first said WHY I want to start a school.

I had a great education. I think part of the reason it was so good, however, is that school was interesting to me. I took full advantage of the opportunities that were given to me. I was able to study sciences, history and literature at the highest level offered in my school. In addition I was able to do drama and debate. I participated in mock trial and learned a lot about government. I traveled with various teams and groups both to compete and to watch. I learned much about community from being part of the strong culture in our school.

I have spent many years pondering why I enjoyed school so much, but I've also realized something that every school must come to face sooner or later: my education primarily prepared me to be a successful student, and by extension, a teacher. I'm not certain that it prepared me all that well for other things. I've come to believe over the years that school should prepare students for more than just more school. It should prepare them for what the culture of their chosen fields of study will look like. In other words, they should spend less time in science reading textbooks and more time experimenting, collaborating, publishing and crunching numbers. History students should also spend less time in books (unless they are primary sources) and more time relating current events to older ones. History should have a heavy component of geography driven by cultural studies to achieve true understanding. Math needs to be studied in the context of real-world engineering problems so that students see how it is practical, useful and lucrative. You get my drift. And always, always, in every single course, students should be writing, writing, writing all the time.

We need to enculturate children to be citizens of the world and not just into school, or even just into the United States.

My other gripe with school is that it is too compartmentalized. English. History. Biology. And so on. The problem with that approach is that students miss completely the connections that make the world exciting, wonderful and functional. For example, how awesome to study evolution as a unifying theory of biology while simultaneously studying the naturalistic literature that rose out of the time, or the political and religious forces that came into play while society turned more to science than faith. How truly fantastic to overlay all of this with the era of colonialism and discuss exactly what was going on in the western psyche that made this colonialism okay. Did increasing secularism make this better or worse? Are we so different now? Is the US ideal of democratic governments in the middle east just another way to gain resources we don't have? To spread Christianity? Is it different?

I want students to leave school learning to ask questions, not just to answer them. And I want them to know how to search and search until they find answers, or at least better questions. I want them to know how to think critically and engineer solutions to complex problems. I want them to be able to speak in front of a group, write a paper that is truly professional in whatever subject is given them, to present their findings and hold a smart discussion, to write a resume any young person would be proud to hand off.

Schools need to be structured in ways that tailor a child's education to their needs: Smaller schools. Technology. Teachers more often as tutors instead of "sages on the stage." A cohort of student-colleagues and teachers. A cohesive framework in which to work. Teachers paid like professionals who are paid full time to work full time.

Stay tuned . . .

Paid

Today I got my last paycheck from my newspaper job.

I have been enormously relieved not to be working this week and after just a few days off I can't help but wonder how I have managed all these years.

My relief today, has been somewhat overshadowed by this idea of the "last paycheck." It has been a long time since I've been without a paycheck, and under our current plan this will last for another year. I hope not longer.

While I have gained sleep, there is definitely lost income. And lost income, for me, is often associated with loss of autonomy. Perhaps it will be a year to discover a new kind of freedom.

Dreaming

I've been reading Whitney Johnson's book, Dare, Dream, Do in tidbits over the past several weeks. These days I don't read anything unless it is in tidbits. Whitney's book has proven very useful for this sort of disrupted reading. It is the kind of book better digested slowly if it is to have any impact on your life. Mostly it has made me ask myself the question, over and over: what do I want to achieve in my life?

Like you, the obvious answer to that is, "A lot."

I am not, however, talking about the things that most women want: a successful marriage, a safe place to raise her kids, children who become productive adults, the money to put good food on the table and and a roof over our heads, security, etc. etc.  I want all these things too, of course, but I think the purpose of Whitney's book goes beyond these things. Or, at least it does for me.

I want to know what unique thing I might accomplish that leaves a mark. An accomplishment that primarily belongs to me. Something I can point to with a mixture of humility and pride and say, "Because I did THAT, the world is a better place, and I am so grateful!"

I think I was always a teacher. There was never a time when I didn't want to improve and be in charge of everything around me, much to my little sister's chagrin, I'm sure. I've spent the last year thinking a lot about school. My kids' school, my own master's degree efforts, the structure and function of schools, the good and the bad in schools, and on and on and on. My dear, patient, Plantboy hasn't had such an earful about education since I was a first year teacher.

So I think I know what I want to do.

I want to start a school.

Oh, I have long toyed with the idea, but I always shirked for a lot of reasons. I couldn't see how a school could be built from the ground up and move from small to large. I couldn't see how to fund it. Public or private? Location. Logisitcs. And oh, my, the list of things necessary for creating a school are legion. But in a year's time, my oldest, very smart and unusual son will be in middle school and I have serious reservations about the school system in the city in which we find ourselves. I have sometimes spoken here about funding issues that have led to larger and larger classes and fewer and fewer days. for much that we love about living in our current city, we do have grave concerns about our sons laying a good foundation for reaching their potential.

So here is the school I want. I have no next step really. The "doing" part of Whitney's Dare, Dream, Do formula is still eluding me, but that school I want no longer seems like a such a pipe dream.

Here is a basic outline. I have more specifics in mind and may sometimes share them. If you have any ideas about what you'd like to see in a school for your child, please, by all means, share.

Grades: A 6-12 secondary school.

Enrollment: Each grade would max out at 60 students in three cohorts of 20. Cohorts would probably vary from year to year, at least for the first few years. 420 students would be the maximum enrollment. This doesn't mean classes would only be 20. Sometimes cohorts would combine--different types of instruction require different numbers of students.

Type of School: Charter. Public schools are nearly impossible to re-design from the top down; most decisions are taken out of administrative hands by those further up the hierarchy. Private schools are too expensive and exclusive.

Requirements: Because technology is utilized at the school to help individualize education, students from all academic backgrounds would be welcome. However, the rigors of the schedule and expectation of parental involvement will naturally weed out many from a  variety of demographics. That ever-hated lottery would probably have to come into play if the school model proved successful.

Yearly Schedule: The school would be organized around a trimester system, with students in school about 200 days each year. The format would be more of a year-round situation. 6-7 weeks on with a week off and then 6-7 more weeks with a larger break after that of 2-6 weeks. Students will get a major break at Christmas, in the spring, and a slightly longer one in the summer. There would be a fall semester (roughly Sept-Dec), winter semester (Jan-April) and spring semester (May-Aug).  Teachers at the school are paid more like full time employees with their vacations only occurring for 1-2 weeks between trimesters. When students are not in school, teachers are expected to spend intense hours in group and individual planning sessions, setting goals and writing and compiling curriculum.

Daily Schedule: Grades 6 and 12 begin at 8:15. Grades 7-11 at 7:15. The first hour in grades 7-11 is an exercise period, with each grade on a different schedule so that only 60 kids do each activity each day. (Research shows that brains are more active when exercise is undertaken prior to learning.) From 8:15 to 10:15 and from 10:30 to 12:30 students in grades 6-11 attend core classes in two, two-hour blocks. Half the school takes STEM first (Science, technology, engineering and math) and Humanities second (English, History and Art). The other half does the opposite. At 1:15 students go to the first of three elective hours that go 1:15 to 2:05; 2:10 to 3:00 and then 3:05 to 3:55. Parents pick up at 4. 6th (and possibly 7th) graders only do two elective hours in the afternoon and finish at 3:00.

Academic Schedule: Student education moves from being highly scripted in the 6th grade to being entirely student choice by the 12th grade. Each year's curriculum is integrated, meaning that in the core, morning subjects, students pursue a major course of study through the year, though this theme might vary between Humanities and STEM. For example, the 8th grade course of study would follow the theme, "Our Changing World." In science, students might study adaptation, genetic mutation, geology. In technology and engineering students would study a variety of transformative technologies throughout the ages, as well as how to make these technologies. Students would also learn how to read and make seismographs and study weather prediction. Math applications and projects would involve mutation rates, calculation of the age of the earth and other natural materials, and understanding seismological waves and data. In Humanities, English courses will focus on literature from 7th grade on. In the 8th grade year about change, the literary focus would be coming-of-age literature. History studies would revolve around major human migrations, diasporas and genocides. Art studies would revolve around transformative art movements.

Electives: Students would have a lot of choices in electives offered, and a concerted effort is made to offer EVERY class. This can be done through technology use as on-line courses become more varied and better. Students can choose up to 9 electives a year ("up to" because in younger grades their are more prescribed classes), though some of them are taught over two trimesters.  All but a few mainstream AP classes will be given as elective, on-line offerings, or through partnerships with local public high schools.

Teachers: As stated above, teacher wages are higher at my school because they are expected to work more hours. I would look for teachers with a varied background and multiple certifications and interests. They would spent most of their time in their speciality in their a.m. classes, but each teacher would be expected to teach two elective offerings a day as well. These electives would vary based on teacher attributes, interests and effective on-line courses.

Those brave few who have followed up to this point may want to check back over the next few weeks. I have a few more ideas to post, and some examples of what a day might look like for several different students at my dream school. I am finding the defining of my dream to be very satisfying and a little bit scary at the same time, probably because the satisfaction I take from the details now won't stay that way if I don't act.

Dreams

I haven't yet finished Whitney Johnson's book Dare, Dream, Do yet. I think if it is to serve its purpose then it is important to digest it in small chunks. Also, this semester is doing the proverbial, "kicking my butt" and time for anything as wonderful as dreaming or reading about dreaming is back-burner stuff right now.

And yet . . . when we have dreams that are such a part of us, it is hard to just STOP dreaming. To stop thinking about them. To not allow our minds to wander to that what-if place.

So today I'm going to take a few minutes to do dream-inventory. I am publishing another piece on Dare to Dream later this summer in which I talk about my belief that it is time to take "my turn" and that a re-evaluation and shake up of my life feels much-needed at the moment. August is the month for that: the next six weeks will just be too busy. But in preparation for the shake up, I think taking a few minutes to  chronicle my dreams is useful. These dreams here are, for the sake of brevity and staying on the subject, dreams related to me personally. Of course I have dreams and hopes for my family as well.

Writing: Some mini-publishing opportunities have presented themselves this year. Besides Dare to Dream I will publish on The Power of Moms blog. Some of you will have read the piece, at least in part. I wrote it a few years ago about my father and posted it here for Father's Day (or his birthday?). It will appear with some tweaks on the site on Sunday. My academic writing has improved immensely and any of my college courses with a heavy emphasis on writing have been very fulfilling. I need to spend some serious time on my fairy tale, using so many excellent suggestions for revisions and improvement. By serious time I mean probably 100 hours. It doesn't seem like much if I could just find a way to write full time! In addition, I have another novel in my head--not plotted out--but mostly written. Another story that with a couple hundred hours could make it to page, complete. It might not be a marketable story, but I really love it and think it deserves to be told. So the common thread here is clearly time. I am still not sure that I have pursued this writing goal to its limit. Some cursory failed efforts at publishing don't seem like quite enough. I think I can do better. When is the question? I sometimes wonder if I should have put school off for a year and spent the past year just writing.

School: Up to now, school has mostly been time consuming. In other words, if you put in the time you get the A's. It has been interesting and enjoyable though not particularly difficult. This semester is proving to be very different. Two of my three classes are very hard, involving concepts and skills that are by turns abstract, difficult, time-consuming and just plain challenging. I know the purpose of school is to stretch yourself, and for that I am glad, but 9 credits may have been overly ambitious this term. I have dreamed of a master's degree for so many years: in less than a year I will walk across that stage.

Employment: My final school project will be some major volunteer work in my sons' school next year, working with fourth grade teachers to provide better and more personalized science instruction for children in classes of 35 kids. I will probably be involved upwards of 10 hours each week. Oregon schools (maybe especially in our area) are in a rather big mess at the moment. Lay-offs, growing classrooms, fewer days--apocalyptic stuff really from an education standpoint. The thought that I might actually get hired a year from now is starting to seem a bit laughable in light of the latest round of lay-offs. The thought of subbing for a year or few (like many do) before getting hired makes me feel a bit nauseated. The thought of not working in the field at all after the sacrifices I've made to get where I am (not to mention that student loan piling up) is disappointing on more levels than I care to think about. Reading Dare, Dream, Do has made me think again that what I really want is to start a school.

I find it odd that at nearly 40 years old I'm still wondering what path, exactly, my life will take. Of course, the point of this blog (if there is one) is that the journey is what matters; at the end of it all, perhaps it is more about traveling than arriving. Or perhaps that the puts and downs of traveling makes the destination more sweet.

Cause I'm a WOMAN!

Let's see how well you remember this old commercial:

I can bring home the bacon . . . .
Fry it up in a pan . . . .

And now the last part?

And never let you forget you're a man
'Cause I'm a WO-man!

I wanted to start with this retrospective today because of a provocative article my brother sent me late last week. With my return to school this month, the article, a New York Times OpEd titled, "Don't Quit This Day Job" has caused me to stop and think about a lot of things.

But let's analyze the commercial first. If you are somewhere near my age, even if you had very limited access to television like we did, then you probably knew not only the lyrics, but the brassy, bluesy music that goes with it. These simple lyrics are the ultimate woman-message of the 80's. Our moms, the first generation of mainstream feminists, were home (often part-time) with young kids.

"I can bring home the bacon . . . " Implies that women, now working, could do just as good a job at providing for their families as their husbands.

"And fry it up in a pan . . ." Woman can also still be good at all those domestic tasks that are traditionally hers. Our mothers, who largely bought into feminism without even realizing it, (and were beneficiaries in many ways whether they supported it or not) really had a raw deal. They believed in equality a generation ahead of the men. My mother, who worked anywhere from 8 to 40 hours throughout all my growing up years, also worked full-time at home. I've never seen my dad iron or vacuum or change a diaper or dust or mend or start a load of laundry. The extent of his domestic ability is to grill and make pancakes on Saturday morning.

Now, before going to the next part, who remembers what this commercial was actually about? That's right. PERFUME. A now-defunct brand called "Enjoli."

The last couplet implies that not only can woman be the breadwinner and run the household, but she can be ready for an intense sexual experience at any given time. The question she puts to her man is, "Are YOU ready?" (Stupid question, really.) I also think it is funny how she must remind him that he is a man: I guess because modern woman does everything the emasculated modern man needs more reassurance.

My brother, the doctor, forwarded the above-referenced OpEd to me from another doctor--male--who was quick to point out that "he was not in agreement with the article." I suppose that a sensitive, new-age guy (SNAG) must say such a thing. But I am under no such constraints and may say whatever I like to the three or four of you still following Science Teacher Mommy. I am LARGELY in agreement with the sentiments expressed by Dr. Sibert in her OpEd.

For those of you that didn't link to the article I will summarize. Dr. Sibert expresses deep frustration at the vast numbers of women who go into medicine without the intention of practicing full time. She sees a disturbing trend as more and more medical schools are giving spots to individuals who intend to pursue medicine as a part-time career, citing that 48% of all medical school diplomas last year were given to women. She is frustrated by current attitudes that view doctor-ing as a great part-time option for women.

Wait . . . wait. . . haven't I been a part time worker for many years? Putting my teaching on hold for a family?

In a word, yes.

But we aren't talking about teaching, we are talking about medicine. And the good doctor points out that there are other considerations here. Medical school tuition is astronomical, but it still doesn't cover the costs of operating a medical school. The federal government subsidizes them. (In other words, you and I do. Sort of--45% of Americans don't actually pay federal taxes, but that is another discussion for another time.) Even more heavily subsidized are residency programs, with resident salaries coming almost entirely from the Medicaid budget. Dr. Sibert is angry with young doctors who don't recognize the investment poured into them, and maintains that doctors who don't practice full time are not as effective (they don't have as much practice) for their patients. Patients who are the very public who subsidized their education, and now hold all the promissory notes on their student loans too.

She is taking a bold stand by saying, "Newsflash: women CANNOT have it all!" And I agree. The notion that we can be all things to every person and still gain broad personal satisfaction is the biggest fallacy to come out of the Women's Movement of the 1960's and 1970's. I know, I've said it before, but we are at something like 425 posts here, and some things bear repeating.

When it comes to medicine, Dr. Sibert maintains, personal decisions (like the fact that 40% of female doctors in their childbearing years only work part time) have huge consequences for the public. Within just 15 years, this country will be short 150,000 doctors, especially General Practice doctors (the area where more of the residents are women). The Health Care legislation insures more people, and our population is aging. There is a terrible bottleneck in doctor training, with many times more people turned away then actually get into school. And when it comes to women in these professions, they are increasingly choosing them because of the options for part time work.

In addition, funding is becoming increasingly tight for residencies as the government cuts more and more from those areas in an attempt to balance the budget. What a kick in the pants to get through medical school only to learn there is no way for you to actually get the hands-on training needed to become a full doctor . . . perhaps it is a bigger kick in the pants to realize that you didn't get a spot ahead of a woman with excellent test scores whose ambition is to primarily be a stay at home mom.

Now, obviously, my brother's area of concern is the best medical care to the most patients, and his interest in this article is of that nature. I think there are things that could be done: states with a terrible mortality rate (relative) and a lack of doctors where they need to be, could subsidize tuition or even forgive student loans in exchange for a certain number of full-time years as a GP in rural and minority communities or in clinics that service areas with terrible poverty. I think you'd see a lot of people take advantage of that. Dr. Sibert offers few suggestions, though her tone implies that she would not like to see spots given at all without firm commitments about the work people will put back into the system that demands a lot but also gives a lot. She is right on the money in trying to address this difficult issue, and suggests that young female doctor-candidates need to be spoken to more candidly about the detriments of part time work.

For me, however, the article raises broader questions that can be applied to women everywhere, and maybe most particularly to LDS women who feel intense pressure to stay home (and whose husbands feel intense pressure to keep them there), but also near-constant encouragement to get all the education they can and excel at all they do. The feminist movement has finally produced the generation of young women it intended to--women with liberal ideas toward sex, who don't necessarily associate childbearing with sexual experience; women who believe that any career is open to them; women who see having children and/or marriage as one path in many toward self-actualization; women who are ambitious and driven and don't give a fig if they out-compete the men.

But I feel deeply conflicted about it. When Plantboy graduated from his master's program, nearly HALF of the graduates at the campus-wide commencement that day were in the college of education. As secondary teachers actually graduate from the college that was their major focus, this means that all of those COE graduates were either elementary teachers or psychology majors. Most of them were women. The rest of that half was rounded out by those in the college of Family Life--including interior design, social work and family human development. Again, nearly all women. I would have been fascinated, on that campus of mostly LDS people, to learn how many of those women ever worked. Ever intended to work.

Granted, their college experience was still valuable to them and their families, but it was a public college, heavily subsidized by taxpayers. In addition, most students attend college on some mixture of scholarships, grants and loans--all backed by common funds. Governments INVEST in education in the hopes of getting some kind of broad return on society.

Please don't misunderstand. I primarily identify myself as a stay at home mom, and I have done so for the last ten years. I believe that in most circumstances, kids get a better start in life if they have their mothers home with them during the first few years. I think if people are going to have children then they should also make the commitment to raise them.

But I also think that the Women's Movement not only deluded us into thinking that we could have it all, but that we were somehow lesser women if we didn't. So we are a generation of guilt-ridden women, unsure where we belong. We sacrifice career for family, but when the career calls we sacrifice family for that. Years of self-sacrifice can leave us worn down and bitter if we aren't careful.

I feel like every year in my life I have had to re-negotiate the balance between my own wishes and the wishes of the four men who depend on me for nearly everything. I try to be prayerful. I try to listen to the Holy Ghost. And then I act and try not to look back. I try not to feel deeply sad as the novel is shelved for who knows how long because I ran out of time to reach my own deadline. I try to get enthusiastic about another game of Apples to Apples Junior. I try to remember that doing the laundry is my version of clothing the naked, that making dinner is how I feed the hungry. I try to be cheerful about the three a.m. daily alarm knowing that the paper route is a means to an end. I try not to think about how I will possibly balance school, and eventually a full time job with a busy, needy family. I try not to be envious when my husband receives accolades at work. I try to desire motherhood above everything else even when it feels foreign to my nature. I try not to resent that I put my husband through school twice, but that this time around I must largely put myself through.

That last paragraph is pretty raw and honest . . . maybe nobody made it quite this far. But if you did, then maybe you or someone you love feels as conflicted as I do sometimes. People will often remark on how confident I am, and I feel like kind of a poser. Sometimes that outward display of confidence is the way I blow smoke over all the conflicting forces inside of me. Maybe this is the true essence of modern woman. Bottle that, Enjoli.

28 Days of L-O-V-E

Plantboy would like it duly noted that he did not catalog trees on our honeymoon video while I was sleeping. He cataloged trees on our honeymoon video while we were at Butchart Gardens. Either way, it watches like a documentary. And not an interesting one.

Day 5

I wake up at three every morning. For those of you new here, it is for a paper route, and not for some noble reason like scripture study, or cooking my family an enormous breakfast or curing cancer. It is safe to say that this early wake up is hard nearly every day. Every. Single. Day. If I could got to bed at eight, when the kids do, it probably wouldn't be so hard, but I'm working on preserving my marriage too. Though perhaps, it might be argued, at the expense of my sanity. Only time will tell.

Anyway, three a.m. on cold, wet winter mornings is especially difficult. Even if there is no rain, this time of year is generally overcast and sometimes foggy. The humidity penetrates every hair on my head, bringing new life to the term "frizz." Sometimes the wind blows.

And then sometimes, it is clear and beautiful. Oregon's air quality is better than any place I've ever lived, and when it is clear, all you have to do is get a few feet away from a street light to see the stars in sharp relief against their inky backdrop. On such mornings, my heart soars as Orion watches over and keeps me company. On such mornings, my job seems like an enormous blessing instead of the craziest thing I've ever spent 2 years, 2 months, 1 week and 2 days at. But who's counting?

So while I don't exactly love my current job, I do love starry, starry mornings.

Draft

First draft of an apology letter to newspaper customer at *** Oak Street.

Dear Mr. Grouchypants (I don't know? Is this too childish? What I really want to say might be too vulgar? Thoughts?),

I remember with fondness the first message I got from you. Being a new carrier, I didn't always think to put the paper, creased-side down in your box. Not having a paper box myself, I didn't realize that such misplacement could cause the paper to be slightly ruffled and probably unreadable. Thanks so much for calling to explain to my supervisor about what a rotten newspaper carrier I was. I have tried hard in the year and a half since to do all you asked. (I don't know, does this sound adequately unctuous? Or should I lay it on a little thicker?)

And you have been a taskmaster. 17 months of deliveries and not a single tip in all those months. Not even last December when I slogged through the snow up your slick driveway every morning for two weeks to make sure that your paper was snug in its box--crease side down--each morning by five o'clock. Thanks for showing me just how little I deserved your good will. (Is it in poor taste to bring up money? He does pay his bill on time, after all.)

Fast forward to mid-April. Your delivery was missed! Oh, the anger and frustration that such a slight must have caused! It is such a hassle to call the paper one single morning out of 400 to request one brought to your house. Of course, by seven or eight, the news that should have been delivered at six is nearly unreadable! I imagine this ruined your whole day. (Enough empathy? Too many exclamation points?) I must, however, point out, that at the time of this second offense I was actually out of town; the missed delivery was my sub's fault. Though, that is just making excuses. I should clearly have hired a better substitute and will not use that vermin again. (Although I have used him once since; is this little lie going too far?)

But May 14th. Oh the horror! Again, your box was skipped. No excuses this time--it was all my fault. Was it staying up to watch the LOST season finale the night before? Was it being all hopped up on birthday wishes from earlier in the week? There are no good answers or reasons for my grievous offense. (Too many excuses? Will he see through this as a flimsy attempt to finagle my way back into his good graces?)

But the final straw, and the one that caused you to call my supervisor, but not my current supervisor, my old supervisor who has been at the paper longer, the stinking witch who actually sunk so low as to hire me, was a missed paper again on Monday. You lit up the switchboard with your choice language and the message nearly burnt its way through the paper as it was left for my former supervisor. In the harshest reprimand possible, your rageful complaint was published on my bundle cap early this morning. The ultimate shame--you requested a credit for having to purchase a paper at the local DariMart. My heart aches for how low you had to sink to get your millimeters thick Monday paper, so chock full of news and advertising that it must have occupied nearly 20 minutes of your day yesterday. My only defense, weak though it may be, is that my regular route had a rather unsavory character walking along it yesterday and my selfish concern for my own safety caused me to change up my route. It is apparent that my distraction cost you a day's peace. Can you ever forgive me? (Too much bold? Does it get the point across or just seem a little bit melodramatic? I'm thinking that this guy really understands melodrama, however.)

Though the papers arrived an hour late today, I ran my tail off to make sure that yours, especially, was delivered in a timely manner. I apologize for not getting this apology note to you a day sooner. Here is a flower to show how genuinely sorry I feel for the burden I have placed upon you. (What kind of flower is best for apologies? Or what about a subtle attempt at humor, like forget-me-nots?) No doubt, you think that only an incompetent or vindictive person could do this twice in one month. I promise, sincerely, that I'm not out to get you. I suppose I can only be deemed incompetent. I can't tell you how many times in my life I've been told how stupid and irresponsible I am. You must be at least the second.

My supervisor and I discussed you at great length today; I promise, there was no laughter shared at your expense or at the demented quirks of old people in general. I told him that if you did actually call him back that he should tell you I was taken out to the back of the newspaper office and shot by a firing squad in the courtyard, while my young family looking on, sharing my ignominy for all time. After all, it is for them that I have taken this job that is so essential to the proper functioning of the (your?) universe.

Yours in sincerest apology, etc. etc. (With humility? Yours? Love?)

What do you think? Print it and attach it to his paper? Or do a little editing?

Ambition

Last year my book group read Anne of Green Gables. We had a surprisingly lovely discussion. I say surprising because I was amazed at the depth we found in that much beloved volume when looking for something more than just a story. As the evening wrapped up, I remember posing one last question that wasn't addressed thoroughly because of time and inclination, but it is something I've often thought about.

Now that I'm serving with the Young Women, it is something I've been thinking about again.

You remember the Anne books. Anne is so bright, committed and highly competitive. She wins awards, honors and acclamation from her peers and professors. Marilla and Mathew are so proud of her efforts which put her right on par with the male counterparts in her class. In the second book she teaches, in the third book she goes to college and in the fourth book she is the principal of a school while Gilbert becomes a doctor. Anne is probably 23-ish by the time she marries. Pretty much spinster-age in that time period.

And then, boom! Anne marries, takes no thought to ever teach again, keeps house for Gilbert (brilliantly I might add, there is little that the red-head cannot do), and waits to have a baby.

Each year Anne says goodbye to her crop of kiddies, and is properly regretful to see them go, but there is no indication that she regrets leaving her classroom teaching behind for good. She moves into her house o' dreams with nary a backward glance and becomes as perfect a mother as she was a teacher. I'll tell you how my own experience feels after I pose my question.

How do we teach our girls to be ambitious and to work hard, while still instilling a desire for motherhood? Or, conversely, how to we nurture their desire to have children and stay at home with them and simultaneously encourage them to set academic and career goals?

Right now I have a group of young women who want to be mothers, at least for the most part. For some of them, though, this supersedes all else. Too many of them express indifference to their school work and classes, and little desire to go to college or have no interest in any career path when they get there. I see lots of untapped potential in the way they are approaching their lives.

Our YW president recently read a book called "Do Hard Things." It is about modern youth and their laziness in response to how convenient and entertaining their lives are. I had one of our most spiritual and sweetest girls tell me the other day, in response to something I told her about door-knocking on my mission, "I could never do that." Her brother just left on his mission, but I'm wondering why she thinks this hard thing is just something for her brother to do? Why isn't a mission something she might keep her mind open toward? And for all that several of them have expressed a desire to be stay at home moms, some of them have told me without flinching that when they babysit they don't do diapers. We have to teach our kids to do hard things. To love hard things. What does Tom Hanks say in A League of Their Own when Geena Davis tells him that baseball just go too hard? "It's the hard that makes it great." I have also often heard young women say, "I don't want to go on a mission; I want to get married." Where does this false dichotomy come from? Serving a mission doesn't rule out marriage, any more than staying home from a mission guarantees a spouse. Or "I don't plan to work, I'm going to be a mom." What if you don't get married until you are 30?

The last several young women who have graduated from high school in my ward come back to visit from time to time--each of them seem without anchor in their way. They don't seem driven by anything that makes them want to jump out of bed each morning and just grab life by the horns. They are wishing so desperately for Prince Charming to come along that they seem to have forgotten to take the lead role in their own lives.

I was not like Anne. I didn't jump in to keeping house head first; I was busy keeping my head above water at my first middle school job. On our first anniversary we moved far away to take a job for Plantboy. It was the opportunity of a lifetime, one that couldn't be passed up, and we knew it was the right move. But I left a job I loved, and I walked away from a valuable professional opportunity that would have led to some very interesting graduate opportunities for me.

As the kids came along and times got very lean, I always worked part time--tutoring, writing curriculum, supplemental instructor in the schools, and whatever I could get my hands on. My hubby worked for the Church, and although the benefits, both spiritual and physical, were fantastic, the pay was lousy. When we approached our five year mark with LDS employment, Plantboy felt that it was time to go back to school. Though I was entirely supportive, I have to admit to being surprised at the turn our life took. I thought I'd be the one to go back first.

When Plantboy went back to school we made a very prayerful decision for me to work full time, and met with mild criticism from very surprising places. Thankfully, my family was always supportive of our decision, my parents especially. We were blessed--I had a wonderful job just 10 minutes from campus, was home by three every day, and most of Plantboy's classes were afternoon and evening. We had very little babysitting in the two years we spent back at school. Baby #3 was the biggest leap of faith either of us had ever taken we were blessed again both with his birth and presence in our family as well as a job opportunity we never had anticipated.

Now with all of this, I want to point out something very important. It is true that when I have worked (nearly always), we have done it primarily from necessity. But there is something more: I really like it.

Scratch that. I love it.

I love my children too, and they are absolutely my priority right now. If they weren't, I'd be teaching during the day instead of delivering papers at 3:30 every morning. When I worked full time while Plantboy was in school, it was hard, but I was grateful every day to be at a job I loved so much, even if it meant I had to be away from home.

Some days back I was standing in a group of women talking about mothering and those little things you do day in and day out a million times over. I don't think anybody was really complaining, just observing. One friend said, "Just think, if you worked, you'd miss out on making those lunches every day." She didn't mean to be sarcastic, but it sounded a bit that way. A couple of people in the group jumped on the tone, affirming how much they loved doing it and so on and so on.

Now, my own working experience was not having to drop kids off at daycare somewhere. I knew they were home being exceptionally well-cared for by Plantboy. Still, when everybody finished re-affirming how much happier they were at home than at work I couldn't help but say how much I had enjoyed working, and how much more centered I felt when I came home to my little ones each afternoon, ready to be a parent full time and enjoy their company.

Talk about being able to hear a pin drop.

The stay-at-home-mom thing in LDS circles is like being a Republican. Everybody just assumes that everybody is in complete agreement, even if there might be lots of different opinions in the room. My mom always worked (part time, as a nurse) and was always active in the church. I was never raised to see a conflict between working and mothering, nor was I raised to think that earning money was the sole province of the father.

Here is the thing: if women have the means and the desire to stay home I think it's wonderful. When I see sisters take a leap of faith to quit work and do full time childcare I think it's awesome. (I think it's not so awesome to listen to a handful of these same women spend much of their time complaining about money, however.) I think that men and women with testimonies need to do all they can to follow the prophet's counsel, but it might just be that there are times you have to choose which counsel to follow. When Plantboy went back to school we chose self-reliance over mom staying home. There was no way to pick both. Did we make the right decision? I think so. We certainly don't regret it.

I'm not so delusional as to think I can have it all, but I've always seen myself going back to work one day. Yes, yes, the money will be nice. My working might allow Plantboy to really pursue a career he dreams about though the pay is lower. A house with more space would be nice: I had that recurring dream again this week where I discover a secret door leading to a part of the house I didn't know existed, like something straight from a JK Rowling novel. Being able to sock a little bit more each month into our savings would be a relief. A current teaching certification would be a fantastic life insurance policy.

All of these are great reasons, but at the end of the day I think the main reason I see myself working, is just that I like it. I'm good at it. Classroom teaching is really the one thing I feel like I have a clear talent for. It isn't just a job or a career for me, it is a passion. It's a gift. The thought of never going back makes me feel like a bucket of cold water has been dumped on my head.

In recent months I've heard people say the following, "Well, STM, maybe it's time to find a new passion." "We would never even consider a loan just for the wife's education" "Can't you just teach your children or at church?" While each person might have a point, none of these things sit all that well with me.

These thoughts have been on my mind partly because of my young women, but also because of something else: as my family gets older and busier, my tutoring is interfering too much with family life. Our afternoons are crazy and I feel like we are all in a mild state of disarray on the days I tutor. Add a night of YW into the mix and well, it is just too much. We are at a crossroads. Or maybe an impasse.

So next year I'm giving it up. But we still need some additional income, so I'll be keeping the paper route. As I prepare to sacrifice the job I love (tutoring) for the one I often hate (papers), I know it's for the good of our family. But I keep watching and waiting for the time when what is for the good of our family will allow mom to get a master's degree. When the good of our family will send me back to the classroom. When there is an outlet for my abilities that doesn't exist right now.

With my sons, this whole question of ambition is so cut and dried--mission, college, marriage, career, family. There is an order to things with boys, and there isn't quite so much choosing. I'm not so naive to think that my boys won't feel conflicted at times and that the path ahead will not always be smooth sailing, but with girls the way is much less plain. Even when grown women have babies and a husband and a home the way is not so plain.

As I look around at the many remarkable and talented women I know, I'm amazed at the things you've sacrificed to become mothers. Of course, the blessings of motherhood outweigh the sacrifice, but it doesn't make the giving up any less real or painful. It might even be this sacrifice, in part, that makes motherhood so great. I admire the courage of the great women I know--you mothers for what you've exchanged for your children; you single-tons for the zeal you put into your careers and extended families; and childless friends for making the unexpected twists in your lives a matter of optimism.

I want the young women I know to feel this burning commitment inside so deeply that regardless of the hand life deals them, they want to go all in. I want every possible door to be open to them because of the preparation and sacrifices they have made. I want them to get on their knees when it is time to make choices. I want them to be women that men look up to and not just look at. I want them to do hard things.

But perhaps this is too ambitious . . .

I Get So Emotional

I was a very emotional teenager. Which statement, no doubt, is ridiculously redundant if you were ever a teenage girl yourself.

This extreme emotion lasted a long time. Even through my twenties as I served a mission, finished school, taught, married, moved, had children. . . . each change seemed to bring on such strong roller-coaster emotions that I often despaired of ever really feeling like I'd arrived in a place (or with a self) I was comfortable with.

Hitting thirty was a little overwhelming for me, but my mother kept telling me that her 30's were her best decade. I soon learned what she meant: my life didn't really stabilize, but my approach to it did. Maybe it is being enough years away from high school that only a few choice memories remain. Maybe it is nearly ten years in a marriage that finally gives me a sense of security. Maybe I have had enough of a taste of trials and resolution to trust the Lord better. Maybe my need to please others has finally taken a backseat to the need to please myself. I don't know. But the few years I have attained have given me perspective and understanding I never had a decade ago.

And then a day like yesterday comes along.

My emotional range yesterday made multiple personality disorder look tame: foolish, tired, edgy, diligent, responsible, impatient, triumphant, harried, frustrated, headachey, adored, pious, bored, forgetful, uplifted, covetous, judgemental, incredulous, shocked, angry, (the last three all from Relief Society, but that is a story best left untold!), loving, grateful, unctuous, apologetic, verbose, critical, indignant, guilty, passionate, repentant, generous, prideful, annoyed, grouchy, punctual, gregarious, intolerant, irate, punishing, conciliatory, resigned, committed, snarly . . . .

Maybe if I took the time to analyze each day for its emotions, I'd find similar results. Or maybe yesterday was especially extreme. It sure felt that way. I hit my knees with the sincerest prayer I've said in a long time last night.

This morning, I delivered papers in a snow storm. While I'm glad this is not a daily event, I was grateful for it this morning. The lonely, quiet, whiteness gave me a lot of space in which to reflect. During a frustrating moment with my 7 year-old last night, I told him that the best part of a new day is that we got to try again. We get to start over without mistakes. This thought seemed to cheer him, as it has me many times, enormously. I thought of this mistake-free day idea a lot as I looked at the lovely, blank, bright snow.

It occurred to me that I don't want to be UN-emotional, or even mellow. I like feeling things deeply. But where I seem to get into trouble, is that all of my emotions are strong. The snow made me think of the Savior and his purity. It made me think that my strongest emotions need to be much more like the Christ-like attributes we bring up in every Sunday School lesson--charity, loyalty, faith, commitment, integrity, purpose, goodness, and the like. On the other hand, my natural-man emotions need to be tempered. It is these emotions that lead to stupid actions, guilty feelings and self-loathing.

As I ran from house to house, I thought of two ways I want to work on making myself a person who listens more and judges less: The first is that I just need to shut my mouth. Not ALWAYS, but maybe 50% of the time when I think I should speak: instead should just nod my head and listen. I also need to focus on being more grateful. If I focus on what is good, maybe I won't have the time to get thinking about all that is wrong with everything. And everyone.

These thoughts came to me, making me feel all warm and fuzzy inside despite the cold and wet. Then my car wouldn't start. Five a.m. Six inches of snow. Running nearly 30 minutes late on my papers. Parked practically in the middle of the road. Twenty-five degrees. Five miles from home. AND MY CAR WOULDN'T START.

I called Plantboy and gave him directions to my stranded car and he agreed to be out the door and on his way. I sat for a moment in the rapidly cooling car and did the one thing I could do. I gathered the biggest armful of papers that I could and a clip of paper bags and kept delivering papers. I might have been a damsel in distress, but the last thing I was going to do was sit around and WAIT to be rescued.

Instead of thinking about how miserable I was in the steadily picking up snow and the wind, I tried to remember what I had just been thinking about. Having no opportunity to practice shutting my mouth around other people, I decided to be grateful. Here was the mantra:

Grateful that it is Monday and the papers are small.
Grateful that my parents are still in town so Plantboy can leave the house.
Grateful that my feet are dry.
Grateful that I am on the second half of my route so that the houses are closer together.
Grateful for the additional exercise the running in the snow offers.
Grateful that my cold is almost cleared up.
Grateful that I didn't get the nasty cough with my cold.
Grateful for snow that will make people more forgiving (or later to sleep) when their papers are late.
Grateful for the quiet.
Grateful for the beauty.
Grateful for imagination that keeps me company every morning at 3:30.
Grateful that Plantboy happened to see me just as I delivered the last paper I'd been able to carry and I could ride the six blocks back to the car instead of jog . . .

Plantboy started the car with no trouble.

I started to cry.

I'm grateful for a husband who doesn't berate, criticize or belittle when I do something dumb: he just gave me a hug and created a hokey explanation for my scientific mind about why the car would suddenly start for him. Don't get me wrong, I am grateful.

But I still cried and felt very sorry for myself and very stupid. Maybe I will have to start my exercise in building Christlike attributes/more tempered emotions TOMORROW.

Accountability

This two-week post-less stretch is the longest I have had in the last year. I'm sure that nobody noticed, but it is remarkable how much I have missed this format. I could post about the fantastic birthday party we had for Jedi Master yesterday, a great visit from my in-laws or the (pain in the butt) "Souper" Saturday I'm in charge of tomorrow, but instead I would rather talk about something that has been on my mind much this past month: Accountability in public schools.

If you are already asleep, then you can just tune in later.

In the past two months, three specific things have happened which have given rise to serious thoughts about what I would do with education if I was, you know, Queen of the Universe. I told Plantboy the other day that my ideal career would be Secretary of Education. To which he responded, "Yah, well, that can be tough to get." Still, whether my ideas ever see the light of day, it will not, of course, prevent me from having or via the miracle of the Internet, sharing them. Two months ago, Nate gave my name to a colleague of his who is currently living in Dubai, but hopes to get funding for a charter school when he returns to the States. After discussing his friend's proposal with him, Nate suggested that he have an educator with a surplus of opinions look at it. (Me.) The proposal is very broad and highly interesting. At its heart seems to be the philosophy, based mostly on anecdote and professional training of public school alumni, that public schools are doing a shockingly poor job of preparing people to compete or even function in the "real" world.

The second event that has caused me to reflect greatly on accountability for teachers and students is a ballot measure here in Oregon. This ballot measure would require teacher pay to be based on merit rather than seniority. There are many problems with the measure--it is unfunded, tests would have to be used to determine teacher qualifications though most subject areas do not actually have state-wide tests written for them, it is totally unclear what is meant be "teacher merit"--still, the frustration the author of the legislation feels is a very real public sentiment. After all, if you are routinely mediocre or lousy at most jobs, you get fired. In education, if you have tenure, you get a raise for similar performance.

When my mother-in-law was here last week, she and I had a conversation one afternoon about the problem with schools. Her bee-in-the-bonnet issue was that schools, rather than being accountable to the parents, have forced the parents to be accountable to them. Unsure about what she meant I asked for an example. The first one she came up with was reading charts. She said that the reading chart is just the school keeping tabs on what is going on at home, and that parents, instead, should have greater control on what goes on at school. Again, a very interesting perspective.

All three of these perspectives are very strongly held and come from "outsiders" to the system. It has emphasized to me just how many constituencies each local school is trying to please--eventual employers and corporations; government institutions who control the purse strings, basing their decisions on cost-benefit analyses; and parents who send their children off to school for a huge chunk of every weekday with faith that they will be better off for it and that the good will outweigh the bad.

My perspective as an "insider" to the system is different, but not necessarily better. Sometimes teachers get so caught up in day to day management, teaching their preferred agenda, and hanging on to their jobs that they lose sight of the bigger picture. A teacher can also end up in the uncomfortable position of being a sounding board for every frustration their friends and family members have with the system. Teachers unions have had many successes, but they have also had many failures as they have fought so hard to maintain the status quo that they have missed the boat on being a part of the dialogue on much-needed reform.

The ideas I'll now present here are an effort to address some of the most pressing problems in education today with a more comprehensive system that treats seemingly separate problems as more of the continuum that they actually are. How should students be assessed? Who is best qualified to assess? Should the assessments then be report cards for the students themselves, the teachers or the school? What role should parents play in exerting control over what happens at the school? How can we hold teachers accountable without resorting merely to tests, which may or may not be an accurate measurement of classroom efficacy? How should teachers be paid? What can be done about classroom sizes? How do we better retain and train new teachers?

I will argue that by radically re-thinking the system, many of these pressing and seemingly insurmountable problems can be addressed all at once, by using an idea for both students and teachers already common to business and many teacher (and other types of) re-licensing programs. My science background tells me the need to apply a system as fair and equitable and as measurable as possible.

I favor a point system, in conjunction with a radically revamped teacher training/mentoring program. The point system would enable teachers to understand, up front, exactly what was expected to merit a pay increase. Points would come from a variety of sources: a PE teacher who is not required to teach to a standardized tests (where there is a lot of pressure and public attention), would have find other ways to show equal merits with teachers who do. I'll explain more on this later, but I'll detour here to explain my mentoring program idea for new teachers.

Mentoring is a relationship I have never seen work. Most mentors (and nearly all of mine) look at you and say "Sink or swim." The ones that don't, are nearly powerless to help because they are already running the department or their off-hours are so busy with their own teaching agenda that they cannot possibly come to observe or advise. In addition, when observances are done, the mentor-teacher's assessment of a new teacher's performance is virtually unheeded by administrators. Mentors are very seldom paid for their additional responsibilities and there is little incentive to help mold and shape new teachers.

In my fantasy program, each school (or district, if school or content area enrollment is very small) would have three designations of teachers--provisional, lead and master. Provisional teachers are not teachers new to the district or school, but new to the profession. Such designation is important: this keeps teachers of experience from being sent through an un-needed mentoring program, freeing up resources for other uses. The provisional period is a minimum of two years and a maximum of four. During the provisional period, the new teacher team-teaches with a master teacher. The new teacher is formally evaluated monthly by both their principal and their partner teacher. Notice is given of these formal evaluations.

Class sizes in a team-taught classroom would range from 30 to 35 students. Under this intense type of mentoring, student teaching is done away with entirely. Provisional teachers would enter a contract with a very modest salary, with no pay increase until they move out of the provisional program. Movement out of the program would require a minimum of two academic years, evaluations consistently high for three consecutive months, and problem areas consistently improved. The evaluation would be based out of 100, weighted for different skills (most districts/states already do something like this.) A "high" evaluation could probably be considered anything above an 85. Provisional teachers would be required to observe (not evaluate) other teachers twice monthly.

Once the provisional period is past, a teacher becomes a lead teacher. Lead teachers are in their own classrooms, but they are not given more than 24 students, with 18 being optimum. By averaging these smaller classes with the larger classes in the team-taught rooms, student-teacher ratios are only slightly lower than they currently are, so the cost would not be exorbitant. Teachers are also likely to demand less money when their working conditions are move favorable to what teachers want to actually be doing--teaching. Lead teachers enter a contract at a base salary. Armed with a knowledge of the point system, teachers will set out a plan from the first day of school for achieving the requisite number of points to be eligible for pay raises at the end of the year. If the system was to be based on a 100 point system, any teacher above 90 would receive the maximum possible pay raise (7%, substantial). Any teacher above 80 would receive a lesser raise (say, 5%), scores above 75 would receive a cost of living type increase (3%), all other teachers would receive no raise. Two consistent years of being in the non-raise category, would give a teacher the following two options: re-enter the provisional system to revamp your skills and start over with the accompanying pay cut, or find a new career. There would probably have to be eventual caps. Administrator pay would be based on a different meritous scale, which by no means would guarantee that a head principal is the highest paid person on the staff (which is usually the case). District administrators would have serious limits based on how much they can earn relative to the people ACTUALLY doing the work of the school district.

During the lead-teacher portion of a person's career, they are evaluated by either the principal or the vice-principal four times yearly. These visits are unscheduled, but should happen at regular intervals. (In other words, it wouldn't be fair for a principal to drop in four times in a row in mid-May because they were running behind. The drop-in without announcement evaluation is much more typical to non-school work environments. Teaching is about the only job where you can do your thing all day every day and maybe see your principal in your room during instruction time ONCE. This is a huge problem.) Lead teachers must also evaluate another teacher on the faculty once each month. This means that the agreement is reciprocated as well, with each teacher being observed once monthly. These evaluations are averaged in with the administration's observations. A third observation is also averaged in: the PTA will organize a parent committee with volunteers trained to evaluate who agree to put in five hours each month visiting classrooms and making their own observations. Each teacher will receive several of these parent evaluations each year. This evaluation score is scaled and added into the "point system."

Master teachers are those who have at least 4 years experience as a lead-teacher, express interest in training new teachers, and have scored above 85 in the previous 3 years' merit evaluations. For the time they spend training, they would keep their current level lead-teacher salary, with no raise eligibility, but have their own set of bonuses based on how well their provisional teacher performs. They may train up to five consecutive years before returning to lead teacher status with the salary they left at. Again, they would be evaluated as the other lead teachers and be eligible for earned merit increases.

Now, for the point system. Such programs would best be applied at a district or a state level. Local administrators would have some leeway, but too much leeway would not allow for proper consistency. For example on a system based on 100 points, teachers may earn up to 30 points for their evaluations, scaling administrator, colleague, and parent evaluations to ten points each. For percentage improvements from the previous year on mandated testing, teachers could earn points. They could also earn scaled points based on percentages of students passing the same tests. Listed below are other items that might be given point values, looking mostly at secondary schools, though many would apply to elementary schools as well:

*Not using all of your annual personal and/or sick days
*Volunteering for after school programs (paid positions would not count, though some teachers may opt for points toward raises instead of extra pay. This might be a good option for coaches.)
* Logged tutoring hours.
*College courses or teaching training with points based on hours invested and/or marks received.
*Faculty meeting attendance
*Money attracted to the school in the form of written grants.
*Regular positive parent contact in the method most approved by the school--a minimum number of positive phone calls or post cards, personal email
*Regular notification of grades--progress reports biweekly for failing students, mass e-mail through a grading program at least every three weeks.
*Grades submitted on time every grading period
*Maintenance of a class website or blog through which parents and students can access assignments, including downloads of forgotten homework
*Administration approved, objective student surveys
*Regular newsletters sent to students
*Participation in science fairs, geography bees, spelling bees, math competition, academic Olympiad, etc.
*Club advisement
*Does not exceed the school agreed-on maximum number of office referrals.
*Attendance at all requested IEP's for the Special Ed program.
* Approved classroom visitors to shed added insight into classroom topics or give career advice.
*Parent volunteer hours (this counts for teachers because teachers have to really work to get parents in the classroom, despite all of the talk about wanting more control about what goes on.)
*Regularly displaying student work with clear objectives.

More could be added, with items given relative point values. Here are examples of two very different, though effective in their own way, high school teachers who could receive pay raises this year under the merit system:

A) Miss Smith teaches English. She is strict and has excellent classroom management skills. This makes her very popular among the faculty and parents, but students groan a bit when they find out they are headed to her class. Her approach is very traditional, but kids, if reluctantly, learn a lot. Her students find that she is much better one-on-one and easier to get along with in small settings. She will put together her hundred points by receiving high evaluations from all concerned parties, being consistent about how many of her students pass their standardized English test, holding regular tutoring hours after school twice weekly, attending all offered teacher training, and taking at least one college course every summer. In addition, she runs the after school "Young Poets" club that meets almost weekly.

B) Mr. Jones teaches Spanish. He is laid back in class and very out-going. The kids love him, though most adult observers see mildly organized chaos when entering his room. His approach to teaching is conversational--the more speaking the students do, the better. He does a lot of fun projects and culture days. He will earn his hundred points by having strong, though not outstanding, evaluations. He is at school every day and helps coach the football and wrestling teams. When he isn't coaching he holds meetings of the multicultural club and exercises with students during the early morning running club. He wrote a grant to get some audio materials--headphones, software and two computers--of actual Spanish speakers for the students to listen to and practice from. He uses a lot of technology, emailing home regularly both for grades and for positive contacts. He maintains a class blog that nearly 50 students comment regularly on. He takes a large team to the district and state Spanish fair every year where they win lots of awards. He always invites a Spanish-speaking guest to their culture days.

Again, two great, effective teachers, with classrooms that have night and day differences. The list shows how much goes into being a great teacher--NOT just passing tests. The two examples above show teachers being accountable to their several audiences through positive choices that BOOM just happen to result in a very good annual pay increase. Teachers have incentive to organize, get and document their points. Teachers who are lazy, lack initiative and will not think outside the box will not cut it. The point system will provide a framework for teachers to improve while allowing each teacher to emphasize the things he or she is already good at. Because teachers are evaluated frequently and by a variety of sources, they must be prepared and at the top of their game every day. The also have incentive to work in a positive direction with their colleagues (teacher gossip is THE WORST) because those same people will have a say in evaluating them.

Control over incentives will most certainly result in improved teaching. Such teaching will inevitably result in generally improved classroom management because of consistency, a school culture where learning is paramount, even "cool," and students will be more committed and engaged. Just like they are in the best classrooms all over the country.

So what about the students? Where is their responsibility in all of this? I think graduation from high school should be based on a point system as well. In designing the point system, the state should set certain requirements (including testing) and allow the district to fill in the rest. Before creating the system, the district administration should sit down with a team of parents, students, local business leaders and educators to determine what things would help students earn their required points. In other words, the things that will help the students become the best people. This would allow local schools to keep their "flavor" but still meet state and federal funding requirements for doing the tests. Student incentive would be high because of the points they are trying to meet. Students would meet regularly in a homeroom type class with teachers and/or counselors to keep their educational goals on target.

Even with major reforms, schools will still fail. If parents want to push for Charter schools, that is is fine. But these schools should be held to the same standards as public schools if they want the money--testing, accredited programs, certified teachers, the same spending per pupil, etc. Vouchers are unfair because they route public funds to private educational establishments who, again, are not accountable under any kind of state system. Public money, public accountability. End of story.

As for home schooled kids, maybe these parents should be given some kind of double income tax credit for their property taxes to help soothe their resentment for paying taxes into a system they don't use. Though, it must be noted that LOADS of people pay property taxes that don't send kids to school now or maybe never did. Education is something that the public agrees to collectively because the alternative is just disastrous. Any society that doesn't agree to educate as many as possible for as long as possible is a generation away from losing their democracy. Failing public schools are not just a major headache for politicians and parents, they are an assault on our very future.

If you have made it this far, bless you. In my head this was a very straightforward post, but once it all came out the result is more like a wanna-be master's thesis. I'm also very interested in your feedback. What, specifically, would be a good fix for YOUR local schools?

Four????

I know that the number and frequency of children you have can only be truly decided between you and your spouse and Lord. Still, what is blogging for if not to solicit random tidbits of advice from friends and strangers alike?

I am at a major crossroads in my child-bearing life. Some weeks back my mother and I were talking and I asked her why "4" seems to be such a magic number of children for people that I know. Before four kids, it seems like all kinds of random people will ask, "Do you think you'll have any more?" (Maybe this is this the case after four children as well?) She said that in her generation she felt that the magic number was 5. There are four children in my family, and mom felt like my youngest brother started school before people quit asking her if she was done.

It took 20 weeks for me to adjust to the idea of having a third son. By the time Captain Tootypants was born, I was okay with it. And now, I've accepted that I have to be careful to not end up in the middle of non-stop wrestling match at my house. I've accepted that my youngest is both the meanest and the sweetest of the three. I've accepted endless hand-me-down piles of brown and blue and green clothes that are nearly always muddy by days' end. I've even accepted the boy smell that permeates my bedroom and my kids' bedroom every morning. Some days I look at my life and think, "How did I get so lucky to have a houseful of exceptionally handsome men who each think I'm the center of their universe?" Other days I think, "Where is the daughter I have long-dreamed of?" There are days when mothering is so easy and I know that four would be nothing, and then there are other days when I want nothing more than to escape the drudgery of housework and diapers and referee-ing and, well, you get the picture.

I've had all my children for very different reasons--the first was obligation, the second was desire, the third was an act of faith. But if there is to be a #4 . . . .

This baby would have to be called "sacrifice," inasmuch as one baby can be seen as more of a sacrifice than another. We would be exceptionally crowded in our small house. We would have to think of some way to afford a payment on a bigger car. My additional schooling (and therefore earning power) would have to be put off a few more years. Even after a year of being here, I don't feel like I've really built the support system that I've had in other places--so necessary when you are hundreds of miles from any family members.

When I felt the powerful prompting to get pregnant with #3, despite Plantboy's schooling not being finished and no job on the horizon, and certainly no knowledge of where would be the following year, I took the biggest leap of faith I've ever made. I gave Plantboy about four days notice on the "I need to get pregnant now!" though we had discussed such a thing as being at least a year into the future. He prayed and he trusted me, dear man. I think I always knew there would be a great blessing attached to that decision; I hoped that blessing meant a baby daughter. The Lord knew my heart. If Captain Tootypants had been a girl instead, it would have probably taken a bolt of lightning for me to have had a fourth baby, and then my sweet baby would have never been a part of my life. My 20 weeks of adjustment over his birth was not just getting ready for a third boy; I think in my heart I was coming to terms with a fourth pregnancy.

I checked the blog of a friend today who just had her fourth baby: one of several friends in the last year to make this leap. Ever since my baby was about two months old, this battle within myself emerges about once a month. Jana's newborn has triggered these thoughts today. For "ideal" spacing, if I have a baby #4, I should get pregnant in about six months. The decision I keep telling myself can wait, cannot wait much longer.

Or maybe I've already made the decision--maybe it was made a long time ago--and my practical side cannot stop thinking about the awful logistics of such a decision. I'm struggling to do the will of the Father, knowing my heart is not in the right place. If I knew a girl was coming to us, I'd get pregnant tomorrow, logistics be damned. But the thought of a fourth boy makes me feel faintly naseous. Would I be able to love a fourth boy enough so that he never wondered if I had him just because I was hoping for a girl? Is a fourth child, for me, a total act of unselfishness since on paper it is pure insanity; or is my decision based on some completely selfish desire to have a daughter on the off-chance that she'll be the best friend I've ever had?