This time last year, my beloved superintendent was under attack by an angry mob that didn’t understand how FERPA works. The school board caved to this bunch and fired the New Mexico Superintendent of the Year for — *checks notes* — upholding federal law, so as soon as my contract was up, I resigned in protest and took a job teaching middle-school math in another district. (When a board member expressed disappointment over my departure, I just shrugged and said, “Well, you know what they say: Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.”)
The learning curve at my new job has been outrageous: new subject, new age group, and new class sizes. When school started in August, it had been over a decade since I’d had to spare a thought for classroom management, and I spent the first semester feeling very much like a rookie.
This didn’t really surprise me. I figured I’d spend a big chunk of the year reinventing wheels and building tools from scratch, which is exactly what happened. Last semester, I was at school until 6 p.m. or later almost every evening, and most weeks, I was spending at least one day of my weekend in my classroom as well. Throw in two hours a day of driving (my school is 56 miles from my house), and — well, it was a lot, which is why I haven’t had time to post here in almost a year.
The good news is that I have finally started to get my feet under me this semester. I know my kids’ strengths and weaknesses well enough to know what works and what doesn’t. I’m gradually remembering all the tricks and techniques I used to keep a lid on behavior issues in Tulsa. I’ve curated a pretty respectable collection of materials — handouts, games, problem-solving activities, and real-world scenarios — and I spent one weekend in January devising a better filing system for all the hard copies and grading keys that kept getting lost on my desk. I still have a few bugs to work out, but things are running much more smoothly now than they were six months ago.
The even better news is that my stress level is lower than it’s been in years, because my colleagues are fantastic. I didn’t know this was even possible, but there is no drama in our building. None. Seriously. Nobody seems to be angling for anybody else’s position. Nobody seems to be trying to get anybody else in trouble. Nobody stands around talking crap about anybody else. It’s truly remarkable.
I’m on spring break at the moment, so I’m hoping to spend a little time posting some of my successes, which include using lightsabers as pointers on a walkable number line; using Legos to teach slope; pulling in a spur-of-the-moment Marvel Comics reference to help the kids remember how to cross-multiply; and sending my kids on an Easter egg hunt that was a logistical nightmare to set up but an absolute joy to watch them solve.
Foolish Wand-Waving 