I didn't realize that I had been clicking the wrong button, so I've had a couple posts just sitting in a cyber-pile on my e-desk. If you think that's bad, you should see my real desk!

I am definitely going in circles. Just when I think I've got a new pattern, a new level of success, it blows up or flops and I lose confidence. I end up going back to being a screeching, nasty, frustrated, rapid-fire Open Court sheep. I feel like I'm swimming in a whirlpool, around and around and around again, with a distinct sinking sensation.

But we're not at the bottom yet and I'm going to do my best to swim toward the sun.

My partner is a veteran teacher, a product of Teach for America, and a believer in progressive, culturally responsive, high-standards teaching and learning. I sat down with him this weekend to get some help making sense of my Open Court routines. After five minutes of explaining to him what I do each day and how it's so different from day to day, he told me to stop and close my book. He dismantled the various parts of the Open Court routine and developed a routine that is predictable and manageable. And also managed to build back my confidence.

I'm going to transition to doing more in small groups so that I can be more focused and targeted with the kids' needs. I'm going to try to stop doing so much teacher-centered, whole-group stuff because the kids don't benefit from it, and I feel like a big meanie. I actually told my kids a week ago that I feel like I'm playing Whack-a-Mole during whole-group instruction because I'm constantly asking them to sit down, criss-cross, hands in their laps, lips zipped, eyes on me. (For those of you outside the sphere of children's games, Whack-a-Mole is a game where each player gets a mallet and they have to whack little moles on the head when they pop out of their holes.) I'm going to stick to the same schedule every day with the hopes that the kids will finally stop guessing at what's coming next so we can all focus on the little steps that build to big success.

A week into the new routine and I already notice a huge difference. I've devoted clear-cut and substantial time to writing and I already see that they are writing more interesting and richer texts. I've devoted a short time to teaching grammar and mechanics with a clear expectation of the evidence they must produce to show they "get it," which is uplifting for them and actually giving them the time they need to think and try it on their own. I have high hopes that this will pull me out of the whirlpool.

I went to hear the presentation for Dr. Payne about OUSD's school reform tonight. I went after a long day (even though it was a minimum day...) at school, after participating in yet another professional development meeting where we focus on how badly our kids score on benchmark tests and try to write plans to improve the scores. (I always leave those meetings feeling like a no-nothing failure especially because it seems like my class is the lowest of the low in our grade level.)

I was very interested to hear from the principals that had gone through the reorganization to become small schools. I was impressed to hear how many of them had been in the profession as teachers and principals for a very long time and were using this opportunity to grow in their profession while trying to make huge improvements in their schools and the communities they serve. I loved hearing from the principal at Foster who grew up in Trinidad and kept reiterating that if that country can have a 98% literacy rate with only one overhead projecter per school, there is no excuse for not being able to do it in Oakland, which seems to always have extra money at the end of the fiscal year.

When Dr. Payne finally got up to speak, he had some wise and helpful thoughts to share about OUSD's attempt at school reform. He cautioned that the waves of small school transitions are getting bigger and bigger and that we may have bitten off more than we can chew, let alone digest. He worries that with 45 new schools now, it is more difficult to support the growth since the resources are now spread much thinner than in the initial phases of the small school movement. Issues were raised by attendees about the level of respect and support for veteran teachers and the effectiveness of a system that relies on so many new teachers each year. He addressed the issue at our school (the fact that we have 11 out of 16 new teachers) by saying that kind of concentration of newness could never be good for a school.

I know that it's an issue I've struggled with a lot. I wonder if I would have ever accepted this position if I had known Read the rest of this entry »

The past few weeks have been really tough. My "discipline" has been going down the drain, my instruction is boring as all hell, and my kids have been generally unhappy. We made it to winter break. We had a lovely party on our last afternoon and the kids made lovely ornaments to take home. I managed to get a thick homework packet together for them to work on over the break and I even managed to differentiate it for my low readers. Now I'm just wallowing in the "what am I going to do next?" pool of thoughts.

I had a long chat with my first grade teacher today who is still teaching and has chosen to work in some of the most difficult schools in the Cleveland area for the past several years. It was comforting to hear her say she still struggles with how to manage difficult administrators and difficult kids. She suggested that I make a more concerted effort to look for the positives in my classroom, which I think is something that I had been telling myself for a while, but was very nice to hear from a seasoned professional. One of the big reasons we all start to hate school is that it's so easy to find all the ways we fall short and so much harder to find the successes. She also suggested that I get parents to volunteer time in our class so I can have another set of hands and eyes to either pull a small group or help monitor the big group while I pull a small group. I know I have supportive parents because any time I ask for materials or chaperones or send out invites to our parties, they are there in a heartbeat with arms full.

I'm pretty fed up with a lot of things going on at our school and I'm disappointed in my performance, but I'm not ready to give up. Like I tell my kids, I gotta dig deep and find the strength to keep going.

I've noticed many of the new teachers highlighted here are not writing regularly or not writing at all (including me!). I know I'm really busy figuring out all the new curricula, not to mention the ins and outs of this bureaucracy.

But recently I've spoken with many colleagues and friends who are shocked that I'm participating in this blog as a new teacher, which leads me to wonder if we're avoiding this task because of the concern about our professional status. I will not be tenured until I step into a classroom on the first day of my third year teaching. Until then I'm considered probationary.

Any number of things could happen to me during the next two years: I could make a bad joke, my students could fail all their tests, I could write a blog online and offend someone ... I know that job security is an antiquated notion, but I also know that public schooling is a difficult and rewarding career that I want to pursue for a very long time.

For me, this blog has been an amazing opportunity to hear from veteran teachers as well as parents and citizens who are interested in public education.  I have taken solace in the feedback from those who have left comments here and their ideas and support lead me to believe I am doing the right thing.

So what do you think? Am I risking my job by writing this blog? How much freedom do new teachers have? How much freedom should new teachers have? What are the ethical and professional considerations of publishing this journal? What are my rights to free speech as a probationary employee?

Two days ago the septic tank at our school burst, spewing dirty sewer water, feces, urine, and toilet paper all over our blacktop "yard." This is the central meeting space for children, parents, and teachers. This is a high-traffic area where the 4th and 5th graders, who have been quarantined into portables, travel from their rooms to the cafeteria and the outdoor bathrooms.

Did our school get closed? No. Were parents informed about the accident? Only if they asked. In a middle class school with better-informed parents, school would have been cancelled and parents would all have been informed of the safety and health concerns of the accident. To their credit, the administrators asked that the gates be locked so as to keep children and families out of the yard. They called the city and had trucks out cleaning up the yard all day. But this did not prevent kids from venturing out on their own to check out the spill nor did it prevent teachers from walking right through the filthy water and right into their classrooms.

If you read this and are as outraged as I am, please call the Oakland Unified School District (510-879-8200) and complain. They need to hear what is happening. We need to stand up for the safety of our children.

Siobhan Boylan is a 3rd grade teacher at East Oakland PRIDE.

This weekend I had, quite dramatically, a transformational experience. Two, actually.

On Friday I went to hear Jonathan Kozol speak in Berkeley. He gave his usual talk about Pineapple (a student from the Bronx) and the evil of standardized tests, but he manages to broach such dire subjects like tests and inequality and scripted curricula with a silver lining that instead of being discouraging is inspiring and uplifting. He was pushing his new book, Letters to a Young Teacher, about a young woman in her first year of teaching in Boston. Her tales of subversive rebellion is exactly what I needed to hear. When I got the chance to speak with him and get my fresh new book signed, I got quite choked up as I tried to tell him about the shackles I wear called Open Court, Language for Learning, disfunctional and overwhelmed district staff and seemingly insurmountable fear of failing test scores. I asked him to come to our school. He asked me to write down my contact information. I am hopeful that in the least I will create a powerful ally.

The following day I attended a conference called "Teachers for Social Justice." This is an organization of teachers who use their work in the classroom as a tool to achieve educational equity — and social justice. The opening address was given by an Oakland teacher and SFSU professor, Jeffrey Duncan-Andrade. His thesis rested on the notion that our educational system is currently balanced: On one side of the scale are the "gangstas," who try to sabotage the efforts of the teachers for social justice, while on the other side are the "ridas," who put everything at stake for the success and sustainability of students and their families. In the middle sit the "wankstas," people who want to be ridas, but are pulled by curriculum, paperwork, inexperience, isolation, and, most notably fear, closer to the side of the gangstas. He made it clear that you don't get to be a rida simply by doing your job. You must be prepared, have a clear purpose and vision, reflect, and be willing to take risks. His ending quote was, "Anything worth doing requires risks."

After leaving this conference I felt ready to buck the trends in my classroom (which are going southward) and push aside my complacent compliance in order to liven up my classroom and make it a space for true critical thought and analysis. My purpose has been made quite clear thanks to Duncan-Andrade and Kozol: Ms. Boylan is going to be a rida.

I'll keep you all posted as to how it turns out...

Siobhan Boylan is a 3rd grade teacher at East Oakland PRIDE

They say in mid-October teachers hit a plateau. Kids are mastering routines, but ceasing to make progress, the mountains of paperwork make it hard to find the note a kid left you telling you what a great teacher you are or the memo from the office staff asking you to turn in a set of forms. The year is in full swing, but you feel like you're not on it.

Welcome to the doldrums, where we're all on this great big boat together, but we're not moving forward. My kids are doing a great job of our morning routines: We come in, greet each other, play a quick community-builder game, and are ready to start off with Open Court. But by the time we get to our first recess, they're already more interested in the bite marks on their pencil than what's going on in our story about Jackie Robinson. It's almost as if the door that opens to the playground releases the wind from our sails.

I realized today that my ship's not moving because the captain has left the helm. I have been lulled into the security of a scripted reading curriculum, my wealth of math games, and a sense that my kids could behave for the first 5 weeks. I need to get back into the habit of planning every minute so I know exactly what to do — so that my kids know exactly what to do. But after spending 30 minutes on the phone with parents and 15 minutes debriefing with my colleagues, it's time to de-clutter my desk and pack up to go home, where I slump into the warmth and comfort of my couch.

I want this ship to go full-steam ahead, but I've run out of steam.

Siobhan Boylan is a 3rd grade teacher at East Oakland PRIDE

"We live by that big ocean? What if I can't swim?"

"Eh Bebe! Eh bebe!"

"My dad and I modified our car last night. It goes a lot faster and makes more noise."

"It's o.k. We speak English." (from a parent when I was struggling to explain in Spanish why my newsletters aren't translated)

"Ms. Boylan, why is it wet under your arms?"

"Lookit - he's crumpin!" (to a kid who was dancing to a multiplication rap song)

"Mi perro, he runs hella fast."

These are some of the funny quotes I've heard from my kids in the past five weeks. I teach 3rd grade at a school in East Oakland. I have 4 African-American kids and 13 Spanish-speakers who have been taught in Spanish for the past 3 years. It never ceases to amaze me what comes out of their mouths. They are smart and funny and "hella" unpredictable.

I most recently lived in Minnesota where I got my undergrad degree in Geography and trained to be a Geographic Information Scientist (glorified computer programmer). I worked for the Department of Natural Resources for several years as a map maker, programmer, and planner. I went on hiatus and ended up travelling to a school in Ghana, going to a craft school in North Carolina, moving home to Cleveland, and then going to grad school back in Minnesota. For the past three years I've worked in 5 different schools as a tutor with the American Indian Education Program while also working as a nanny for up to three different families. Last year I student taught at an arts magnet school and did several long-term sub positions there throughout the year.

I know California is a different place, and I made the decision to come out here to do something different. Yet it strikes me EVERY day how vastly different the administration, funding, delivery, and expectations of schools are here than they are in Minnesota. Back in St. Paul, teachers were expected to arrive at least 30 minutes before school, and stay at least an hour after. Every week we had staff meetings and committee meetings after school, which was an accepted part of the work day. Here teachers arrive 10 minutes before school and leave 15 minutes after. There is little expectation for people to get involved in their school. Many of our teachers stay quite late and come in very early, but it is certainly not recognized or expected. In St. Paul, teachers had a 40 minute prep EVERY day. Students had one recess. I had time to make copies, check student files, make phone calls, and get the room set up for the next subject during my prep and I still had time to teach reading, writing, math, and social studies or science every day. Here I have three recess times per day (including lunch), with six transitions herding my kids to and from, and I have 6 different curricula I am supposed to address daily (reading, math, science, social studies, ELD, and P.E.).

I don't. I worry. I wonder how to do it all. I wonder how I'll make it through the year with only one bathroom break all day (lunch). I wonder how my kids will fare on the looming standardized tests because we cram so much into their brains without giving them time to reflect, let it sink in, try it, apply it and analyze it.

But at the end of every day, I think of some silly little quote from one of my kids and I know they're thinking, they're looking, they're wondering, they're hoping:

"My hope and dream is to be the smartest kid in the whole school."

My hope, as their teacher, is that they learn to like and take pride in school so they can claim what belongs to them in this crazy, messed up, unfair, and endlessly fascinating society we call America.

Siobhan Boylan is a 3rd grade teacher at East Oakland PRIDE