The cost of turnover

In a report just released by the National Commission on Teaching and America's Future, the cost of teacher turnover in 2003-2004 alone topped 7 billion dollars nationally. Seven billion!

If ever there was a need for progressive thinking about how we take care of our educators better, now is the time. My small piece of the puzzle is trying to revolutionize how individual school systems treats its employees. But clearly this is one approach of many that we'll need to address in order to stop this hemorrhaging. Honestly, this is a terrifying article.

I'm going to soak in this article for a bit, but I'll look forward to reading responses on the web to this report.

Happy Anniversary!

I was leading a focus group a few weeks ago in which I asked the teachers what has allowed them to remain healthy and happy in this work. One man said, "My wife. Without her support I couldn't do this." My response was, "I know what you mean."

Yesterday was my 10th wedding anniversary. All of those ten years were spent as a teacher, which means 10 years of being a teacher's wife. This was no easy role and one that required tremendous patience, support, and sacrifice from my wife.

So to her I give a massive thank you! I have no idea how (or who) I would be without you in my life.

Going to Camp

Here's a short essay I wrote while traveling last week. True story.

The plane was packed. Just a flight to Philadelphia on a Thursday afternoon. And then they walked on. About 12 of them, most of whom looked as though they had graduated from high school within the week. Most probably had.

They brought with them the same energy you’d expect to see from nervous kids heading away to summer camp. Two of them had never flown before, which we all learned because they were unbelievably loud. The laughed in riotous fits. They turned in their seats to yell back to friends in other rows. The two girls in front of me played “I spy…” which was difficult because one can only see so much from your seat on a plane. They played patty-cake games with verses recalled from elementary school and laughed at how much they were able to remember.

At times they all dozed off, the plane catching its breath from their kinetic energy. But then they’d awake and the din would continue. I liked them. They drove me crazy, but it’s strange watching 18 year olds experience their first plane trip. Who were they and where were they going? They complained about not wanting to actually land in Philly. Perhaps the camp they were going to wasn’t going to be full of canoe-tippings and smores.

As we banked around Philadelphia, one girl yelled across to the one boy in the group, “What’s the building with the Liberty Bell in it? You know, where we made the Constitution?”

His answer. “The Empire State Building.”

“No! That’s not right! I don’t think. Man! Philadelphia is flat! Where are the mountains?”

I rubbed my temples. Really? The Empire State Building? And then she said it. She said it, and my heart sort of paused a beat.

“You know it’s weird isn’t it? Here we are going to basic training and we don’t even know anything about our country.” She said it. Just that. I wrote it down, because I knew I was going to write about them. And I needed to get that quote right. They were going to basic training.

“We should just go AWOL.” That’s what the girl next to her said.

When the plane landed, they kind of got quiet. They talked about getting some Chinese food in the airport, before “getting on the bus.”

So now I’m sitting on a little 15 person twin-prop plane flying to Maryland to talk to young people about keeping their options open and working hard in school. And they’re on a bus heading to camp. And I bet they’re not as loud as they used to be.

Last day of 1st grade

This year added another layer to my involvement with public education: father of a student. So I've now been able to see my boy go through a whole year of curriculum, homework, bus conflicts, snow days, late starts, new friends, boredom, frustration, joy, excitement, and success.

I've also had a chance to see how a good teacher can affect students. My boy's teacher was fabulous and we reaped the benefits of her talents and work. To her, I say a huge thank you.

To my boy, I say, "Congratulations!" He's gone from reading very little to reading The Chronicles of Narnia. He's gone from doing some adding to filling whole sheets with speedy and accurate calculations. He's gone from being my little man to being my little big man. I could not be more proud of him.

Here he is on the first day of school and this morning.

Happy Graduation!

I went to graduation last night at the old school. While it was strange to not be in academic robes, it was wonderful to feel the excitement of graduation again.

So to those of you celebrating the last days of the year, have a wonderful summer and a rejuvenating time with friends and family.

If you NEED a fourth for your summer rounds of golf, you know where to find me...

Nate

ME AND THE BOY

The photo you see on the page today is utterly un-contextual and will be followed by almost no "deep thoughts." In fact, it's really the result of experimentation with PhotoBucket.

That said, I will mention that I'm just now coming to terms with the fact that for the first time in 28 consecutive years I won't be starting a summer vacation next week in which all I would normally do is play and fish with said boy...

ME AND THE BOY

Photobucket Album

I bet you need a nap

Let's see... It's the first Monday of June. That means that most of you are starting your last week of the school year. If that's true, then the following are probably also true:

1. You were up until 3:00 this morning grading some horrific final project and/or paper.
2. You're starting to think of "alternative assessments" in order to get everything else done by Wednesday.
3. You've told close family and friends that you'll see them in a week and that you can't be held personally responsible for anything you say or do over the next 100 hours.
4. You're considering whether or not PJs are appropriate dress for work.
5. You're hedging on your "no caffeine after noon" rule.
6. You're no longer signing yearbooks with quite the same generosity.
7. You're awaiting some sort of Old Testament-like plague to ravage the school thanks to outgoing seniors.
8. You haven't ironed/hung out your graduation robe yet.
9. You're looking forward to summer, and yet there's a part of you that's actually going to miss the chaos.
10. Survival mode has supplanted long-term curricular goals.

Good luck in these closing days. Next week will be different...


Nathan