One Hundred And Thirty-Two Months Of April Fools

Eleven Years Ago, we said “I Do.”  I sill love that my hubby agreed to get married on April Fools Day.   I was never getting married.  My parents marriage was awful and I always believed that I would NEVER get married.  I have since learned to never say never (or at least not very often).  I have loved being married and especially to my husband.  So much has changed since April 1, 2000:

We have a house.
We have dogs and cats and fish.
We have two amazing kids.
I have a job.
You have a job.
We have all of or own furniture.
We have a wine collection.

Some things are still the same:

I’m still in school.
We still have debt.
We sill love to joke and laugh.
We are best friends.
We like to spend time together.
We still have the Durango.
We still think we are going to get in shape.

It’s fair to say that our marriage has been pretty easy.  We don’t fight much and certainly never over anything all that important–OMG could you please just put the dishes in the sink instead of on the counter?!?! I mean you are like 99% there.

It’s been an amazing journey and I am looking forward to the next 11–for which I won’t be a student!!

Love you Bill.  I owe so much to you.

60-Months-Old

Dear Noah Hojawaka,

21,901 days ago, somewhere in Ethiopia, your birth mother pushed you into the world. This is what I wrote this summer about this day,

The  pain ripped through her heart
more than it ripped through
her womb.
The thought of a life born and
given a way
at the same time
A dream long dreamt;
a nightmare forever
lived.

He wondered where she had
gone and if she had
given birth yet?
Was she able to surrender
the baby that was
theirs?
A child that would always
be theirs and never
know them.

He felt her tears wet on
his face as she
prepared to leave.
He suckled and gazed at
her face.  A face
he would forget.
His loss one that he would not
recognize or realize
until much later.

I cannot believe how much you have changed through the years.  You have grown so much, so fast.  You are the kindest child and such a good friend.  You are a perfectionist and often bang you head or hand in frustration as you learn a new song on the piano–my own little Schroeder.  But then you get the song right and you are on top of the world.  Your determination and quest for perfection will serve you well in this world that will often seem to be working against you.  It will also cause you great heartache as you find things you just can’t master.  I will let you find your own successes and failures and to define them as well.  So far, you are doing it amazingly well.

Last night, on you final night of being 4, I snuggled in bed with you and told you how proud I was of you.  You innocently asked me “for what mama?” To which I replied, “I’m proud of how kind you are and what a good friend and brother you are.  I’m proud that you respect other peoples feelings and how good you are growing up.”  I cried a little in your bed as you drifted off to sleep on the eve of being 5.  Not because you are growing up (although that’s certainly enough reason) but I cried because your Ethiopian mom can’t share this will us.  I wish with all my heart, I could tell her how amazing you are and that she could look into those amazing eyes and see the purity of your soul and character.  I wish I could tell her what a great boy you are.  I wish I could thank her for her sacrifice.  I wish she could feel your love.  I wish she could feel mine.

You are learning to read, ever so slowly and I am sorry that I don’t have more time to teach you to read.  But I believe that when you are home you should be able to play and I know that you’ll be reading soon enough and I don’t want to push too hard.  Maybe these are excuses I am making up, because I love watching you play and have fun.  Maybe I’m lazy.

This year you have graciously agreed to forgo presents at your birthday party with  your friends in favor of collecting monetary donations for Ethiopia.  This has made me so very proud and it’s also something I wish your Ethiopian mother could know.  You have taken pride in the idea that you are raising money for Ethiopia.  I love that we have been able to instill in you a love of Ethiopia and feelings of wanting to give back to the country and people who have given us so much.  We will be making our donation in honor of your Ethiopian mother–it is the least we can do.

Oh how your sense of humor has developed.  Every once in a while, I’ll hear you laugh while watching SpongeBob and it makes me smile that you are starting to get humor and comedy.  You love a good joke and try to make up your own and it’s pretty amusing. You and S are still best friends and talk about getting married.  You also fight and disagree and it’s just as cute as when you hold hands.  You’re a good one Noah.  Stay that way.

You have moved from super heroes to Star Wars and Legos are your go to toy these days.  You are becoming more and more adventurous with eating and I have to say that you really are an amazing kid and I am so lucky to get to be your mom.  You love basketball and are looking forward to flag football.  You can dance with the best of them and have some great hip-hop moves that I have no idea how you learned because your dad and I can’t dance to save our lives.

I love you Noah.  I love being your mom.  I love being your family.  You were meant to be our kid.  I am so lucky to get to be your mom.  I hope you always know how much I love, respect and honor your Ethiopian mom.

Keep growing Noah–you have done both of your mom’s proud.

Love,
Mama

Rich Kids Get Taught, Poor Kids Get Tested

This idea has been rumbling around my head for years.  As I continue the preliminary work on my dissertation, mentor urban high school teachers and work with charter schools, I find this to be more and more true.  Testing has become the new “reform” movement in urban education.  And not just annual testing–but every 6 week testing.  As a researcher, I can appreciate the need/desire for data.  As a teacher, I appreciate the need for data.  It is the means by which we gauge how our students are doing.  But it has to be contextualized.  When we test just to test there is no context for the student and without context and prior knowledge, the test and its questions are meaningless.

Tests and assessments of where students are and how they are doing, should be formative and not standardized.  This isn’t to say that standardized tests don’t have a place at the table, but they should be the only guests invited.  Too often they are the only guests in urban schools, leaving our poor and too often minority kids being tested instead of taught.  This focus on testing also limits the type of education they are exposed to and leads to a curriculum that is grounded in test prep benchmarks and not grounded in what is good for kids.  There are so many reasons why this irritates me and one of them is that it prevents me from sending my kids to public schools in the city where I live.  There are no options available, charter or traditional, that do not have a central focus on testing and measuring, that I can send my kids to.  This isn’t to say that some of these schools whose central standard of evaluation is testing, do not offer a decent education for kids, but the level of education is dictated and restricted by the testing and doesn’t fit with my kids needs or my philosophy of education.

I hate that there aren’t public school options that mirror my own educational philosophy in my city.  The suburban schools are better on so many levels–because the tests are just part of what happens and most only use the state standardized test and that test doesn’t dictate content or experience.  I also am irritated that almost every new school that opens follows this testing model as though it is the only urban reform that works. It is the easiest urban reform, but not the only one.  I long for a new public school to open that actually thinks about how kids learn and not how to best test kids. If there was a public school option that actually put kids learning first and testing at the end of the line, I would stop paying $14k a year per kid for private school.

Now don’t get me wrong, I believe that students need to be assessed.  We must know where our students are strong and where they are weak, but there are many other ways to assess a student beyond a nationally normed standardized test.  My son is assessed regularly and both of his teachers can tell me at any time where he is excelling and where he is struggling and his school does not use standardized tests and doesn’t have textbooks–aside from Math starting in 5th grade.  The school produces National Merit Scholars (5 this year).  Yes the school is made up of middle-class and upper-middle class families.  But I argue that I want the exact same things for my kids that all parents want for their kids–a great education.  I want the same thing for my kids that I believe every kids deserves.

The education I have chosen for my kids is not for every child.  I think that is why choice is so important.  Sure as new schools open, they are giving parents a choice but not the level of choice that parents needs.  Some kids need more hands on learning, some kids need more freedom, some kids need strict structure.  We have to have choices, but choice for choice sake isn’t enough.  We need real choices.  We need philosophical choices.  We need pedagogical choices.  We need to work with parents to allow them to pick the best environment for their children.

We need a revolution in education lead by educators and parents.  Not by master marketers,  businessmen and politicians.  Choice must be part of it, but it has to be real choice that offers something different.  Something better.  Something that puts kids first.  We can argue that the good models are the restrictive, extended day charter schools that focus on testing.  But where is the something different to compare them too?  One size does not fit all and if this is the only road we are going to explore, we will end up exactly where we are now, wondering what the answer is and how we fix our educational system.

Crap–I’m going to have to start my own flippin school.

Big Apple Bound

I’m going to New York City.  Here I come New York City.  I. Am. Going. To. New.  York. CITY!!

Sorry, I’m just a little excited.  Not just about going to New York CITY, but I had my first conference proposal accepted.  It is my first acceptance, not my first proposal.  I had on proposal denied for another conference, which is fine this one is more up my alley.  I’ll be presenting at the Conference on English Education’s biennial conference.  When I got the email this morning and the subject line read: CEE Summer Conference Proposal Acceptance–I nearly peed my pants.  I couldn’t believe it.  I still can’t believe it.

I have been working on this PhD for a long time and am not finally starting to come into my own research and into my own as a professional intellectual.  It’s so surreal.  I get to share my ideas and research.  I am amazed and surprise and humbled.  I really am a professional.  I never felt like that as a high school teacher or even community college instructor. It’s true that our society doesn’t place much value on the in the trenches teachers.  University teaching is very different, as we are seen as professionals because of those three little letters PhD.  I don’t have mine yet, but I am really close to finishing.  It’s a bit bizarre to feel this level of professionalism now as a student when I didn’t feel it as a teacher.

Well, I am going to New York City.  I’ve never been.  I’m also staying in the Dorm at Fordham University (which I have also never done–I went to college later in life).  I can’t wait to explore the city and share in professional academic intellectual conversations on how to prepare teachers in this day and age.

Please feel free to leave me advice on NYC.  I’ll happily take it.