Wednesday, April 24, 2013

Home Training


Whoever made it it mandatory that you sit in some controlled, bubble-environment row seating for 2 and a half hours of silence did not have kids.  When we take quizzes and short cycle tests in class, the students stand, they lay on the floor, they sometimes listen to music and the door always seems to let in some hallway scream.  During the test this past week,  they aren't allowed to stand, lay the floor or accept even a non-verbal cue if we notice they leave an entire page blank.  My kids will hold up hand signals for the bathroom, extra pencils and kleenex.  There is a booklet laying on my desk somewhere for the proper procedures to follow in case of student sickness or if a cell phone happens to ring.  I am not even supposed to have my phone on, nor the computers.  Someone must think the scrolling of desktop backgrounds will somehow remind a child that the answer is in fact B instead of C.

Test anxiety must also be the culprit for the mood of my fifth grade girls.  There's arguments, feuds, switching of allegiances and the sullying of mothers.  Reportedly, a snippet of hair was cut from a student's hair.  I received a note from my principal (An applicant actually used the other "principle" when referring to ours.  So much for your interview) that I should monitor my students better.  Based on this paragraph, you'd think I don't.

In past years, the test leads to a cacophony of booklet drops, worn pencils, bathroom breaks, a few sleepy nods and several blank stares.  I haven't had much drama during a test.  Despite the fear from politicians, the idea of drill and kill and other educational bastardizations haven't yet consumed me.  There will always be some kind of examination.  There will always be a test.  Michelle Rhee isn't so much to blame as our ambivalent nation.  We continue to base learning on standards and rigorous mandates, but we fail to see the overall decline in what a parent called today--"home training."

Not to say our "home training" is any better.  My son came home this week with a not to sign about him cursing in school.  He emphatically denied it, but he doesn't quite understand that even his "frickins", "what the fudges" and other close calls are too similar to the real thing.  My own cursing has been freely flowing as well.  I decided to use the coin jar method to deter us from using any language of the type.  I put in a quarter, Delcina a dime and Cruz a nickle.  I should pay more if the problem stems from me in the first place.

There probably wasn't much interest in any test I took from my parents.  Not that they weren't invested in my future.  I had college bred into me, it was just a matter of where.  Perhaps much of my focus on school was disciplinary in nature.  My dad expected me to read the lips of my teacher under any and all circumstances.  I realize now that there isn't that much a difference between cultures when it comes to respect and upbringing. We like to marginalize ourselves into political brackets, racial lines and boundaries, talking points.  Good parenting and a conservative outlook on life is universal.  Of course I screwed up, of course I played around in school--but there were genuine consequences.  It mattered at home.

In my experience, the parents and kids haven't necessarily gotten worse.  I old-man myself when I claim it to be in public, but I have always had dramatic girls, wanna-be tough boys, ADD kids and clingy kids too.  There has always been poverty, good teachers and bad, good parents and poor ones.  However, we've sealed ourselves off from anyone around us.  No one knows their neighbor.  No one really cares to.

There's more of an incentive, or a decentive if that's even a word (which it isn't since Google is underlining the word in red which screams "spell me correctly") to stay inside.  While there has been a spike in youth sports, there are more reasons to glue oneself to the tv, computer or cell phone.  The devices made to make our lives easier are now time-sucking these opportunities away.  So we have tons of kids shuffling through the school system who need play, who desire play, but are told to sit still, face forward and shut up.

Their home training is different.  Parents continually tell me they don't feel safe to let their kids outside.  Perhaps being safe is relative.  How safe was my neighborhood(s) growing up?  I found porn behind a trash dumpster.  A man killed his wife who lived next door.  My grandmother had a sliding gate built outside her home to keep out the "negritos."  A home down the street ended up being a safehouse for one of the biggest drug busts in a suburb (at that time).  Perhaps all parents say those words to their teachers.  "It isn't safe anymore."  Perhaps it's the fear and anxiety we carry around with us.

So it came to no surprise I was buzzed by the office this morning.  I've spoken with tons of parents.  It should not have come to surprise me when the mom told her kindergarten son he should "kick their ass" to any kid who put his hands on her son.  Ignorance isn't just a black problem, a brown problem or a white problem.  Ignorance and fear builds walls between us.  It tells parents to tell their kids to fight first and ask questions later.  It tells them to stay home and play their x-box.  Fear tells us that no other parent is "home training" their kid better than you.  "Kick their ass."  That's the remedy.