The Good, The Bad, and THE ADMINISTRATION: cont'd

I have spent the last three weeks of my life saying again and again and again to various groups of students: It's not you.

Every one of my peers who is leaving my school cites the administration as the reason, but when the ninth grade MYP kids come into my room listing off the horrifying 80% of teachers they had this year who will be gone next year how do I make them understand ... it's REALLY NOT YOU.

In the midst of one of my many priceless conversations with Mr. Roth during our planning block ... 4th period ... which had for no apparent reason been shifted to the 3rd period spot ... which was doubly confusing because then suddenly you're taking the wrong kids to lunch ... right. In the middle of our conversation, in which we're wondering what we'll do with our third block kids when we DO get them anyway, because technically this is exam week and they've already tested so they have nothing to do, the third(/[fourth]) block bell rings ... TWENTY MINUTES EARLY. I rush back to my room to get my stuff together, he continues tearing his hair out in his own inimitable way, and the students move from their fourth period to their third period classes. Next. Three minutes AFTER the early bell, which would leave us with our third block classes with nothing to do for OVER TWO HOURS, an announcement comes on the loudspeaker: "Teachers please ignore the bell, it was sounded early, students should REMAIN in their fourth period classes, repeat please remain in your fourth period classes" So we tell all our third-block students who are streaming in to go BACK to their fourth block classes (which, naturally, comes BEFORE third block anyway), soon after which the loudspeaker comes on AGAIN announcing this time that students are to report to their third-period classes at this time. Send the five fourth-block kids who have actually returned to class back on their way, and report to hall duty to direct the understandably confused flow of traffic. hm.

MYP ninth graders take:
English: me / Mr. C
English double-dip: Mr R
Chemistry: Mr. D // Mr. T
Computer Elective: Ms. P
Math: Mr. B
Spanish / French: me / Ms. R / Mr. B
History ... ? whatever

Mr. R., Mr. D., Mr. T., Ms. P., Mr. B., Ms. R. .... they're leaving. six out of the nine possible teachers they've had, most of whom are first or second-year teachers are running out of this school like it's catching and how are these kids not going to internalize that ... just a little. How do you come through a system in which a ninth grade student has been passed for three straight years due to "problems in the district" (meaning their teacher ran out and the sub never got his stuff together so they passed the whole class) and not notice ... just a little ... that nobody really seems to care.

And it's NOT THEM. but actions speak louder than words, my friends, and I will be joining the fleeing crowd next year, running out and leaving someone else to tell them ... it's not them.

because I can't live in a world where I am ignored and disrespected and lied to by my superiors. because I refuse to reside in a community that kills my brain cells merely by the mundane tasks it requires of me on a daily basis. because this isn't a career for a sane person.

But it's NOT THEM.