Susan Fedor/00-01/Diary Entry 6

Entry # 6: Everything All At Once

The official slogan was too long to fit on the school sign: "Children-Teachers-Parents: Helping Students Achieve." That in itself should have been a sign to me.

It is now well past 6 p.m. and I have only done the mail in the *red* folders since Wednesday. That means that the yellow (important but not immediately) and blue (get to it when you can) folders are untouched and measure about 14 inches this dark Friday evening. I've earned a break and here they will sit until Monday. I'm planning a school-free weekend of bulb planting and novel reading, except for the two-hour stint ringing the Salvation Army bell during our school's stint outside of Sam's Warehouse on Saturday afternoon.

It's American Education Week, and this week of celebration is so packed with activity that, as it moves closer on the calendar each year, the sense of dread intensifies. I do not know why it has become such a major event, but it's right up there with the holidays at home for requiring long term planning to pull it off. Remember, it is also Geography Awareness Week and National Children's Book Week!

We started planning in September. This is the way this exhausting week unfolded:

Monday: Teacher Testimonials. Teachers in every class began the day's lesson with an accounting of why they selected teaching as a career and why they stayed. When I poked my head into one classroom, I heard the teacher saying to the children, "for the money." You have to know this teacher and her sense to humor to understand that being facetious was her way of taking off the syrupy edges of the testimonial I had just delivered on the intercom. Students in language arts classes wrote letters to their favorite teacher in previous years and those in math classes penned notes to their parents thanking them as "the first teachers."

Tuesday: The PTO provided treats in the mailroom. I distributed business cards and notepads and most were delighted. One wondered what she was going to do with her check deposit slips now that she they had real business cards. The students received stickers with the school mascot. An ice cream social preceded department meetings and at 5:30 p.m. our School Improvement Council convened to review our test scores and annual school improvement report over dinner. At 6:30 PM a parent meeting to interpret score reports was held. At 7:30 p.m., we reconvened the SIC meeting to continue talking about school matters. Beyond the agenda, concerns raised included the lack of daily recess and one about classes that did not appear to be balanced racially and in respect to gender. There was also a concern that the car line moves too slowly in the morning. We adjourned at 8:30 p.m.. Heavy sigh.

Wednesday: The assembly for Our Teacher and Our Staff Member of the Year was a major production with red carpeted stairs, crowns, bouquets of flowers, corsages, family members in attendance, and orchestra serenade (this required a mini lesson on the responsibilities of an audience: save your wiggling and coughing for the break p;something we wish adult audiences at the local performing arts center knew). Christa Compton, the South Carolina teacher of the year, spoke. She is young, bright, and eager: a Jefferson Scholar at UVA and has only taught seven years. She loves her work with true passion that she communicates clearly. We were captivated by her youthful competence as our representative for the year. Christa lamented the lack of professional regard too generally accorded teachers as one told her of their newly printed business cards. She also admired our magnetic nametags that did not poke holes in our clothes. I thought how little it takes to make life easier.

We planted trees for the honored staff members, gathering students for the ceremony and passing the shovel in a circle noting that the only people who plant trees are those who can see into the future. All this while we were wearing our "place" tee shirts (I keep a school closet full of such costumes for various annual observances: hat day, etc.) for the geography awareness, trying the figure the answer to the question of the day, and hoping we'd receive our candy prize for participating at lunchtime. At 12:30 (the traditional turkey dinner was the menu), we had a team of visitors from another middle school for a working luncheon and then class visits. The welcome gifts had been prepared, the folders of handouts printed and assembled, and the dining room decorated in their honor. The principal's meeting and staff development which follows it was scheduled until 5 p.m. In the late evening, I sat down to work on an article for the administrator's magazine until midnight and then up at 4:30 a.m. to finish it.

Thursday: Parent Visitation Day, the most nerve-wracking day of the year. I arrived at 6:30 a.m., one hour before official start-up time, and parents were already at the door. The children were well behaved all day because the parents, hundreds of them, were in and out of the building all day long. All the teachers were stressed by the end of a day of non-stop stellar performance. Feedback surveys from parents was positive, so they did a good job.

This was also the first turn-in day of the music fundraiser. I bought three rolls. Also, we had prepared 75 bud vases of fresh flowers to humanize the lunchroom in anticipation of our parent guests who almost to a person selected the pizza rather than the outstanding school spaghetti! The Beta Club initiation ceremony, inexperienced sponsor at the helm, was scheduled for 3 p.m. Newly proposed members numbered 435, and it appeared each came with at least a pair of family members. Dismissal at 4 p.m. coincided with dismissal from academic assistance, chorus, and intramurals. Now this was traffic that deserved a complaint! I directed traffic out of the parking lots for 45 minutes with two guidance counselors recruited for the emergency. I went to bed at 9 p.m.

Friday: It is nearly over: the thought spurs me on. It is school spirit day and the eve of the big South Carolina college rivalry football game -- Clemson v. Carolina. The school is clearly divided in their loyalties. I wimp out and wear the CrossRoads colors in a lame act of neutrality. On PM assembly schedule, classes report back to team time at the end of the day for viewing of program on the S.C. Book Award nominees, a nod to the National Children's Book Week observance. I am asked to dress in my sari, show slides of my trip to India and read Indian fables in one class. The rest of the school "drops everything and reads" for the remainder of the day.

At 2:30 PM, a fight song for Clemson booms over the PA. Just the right amount of chaos ensues. No more appropriate end of this week could have been planned. The front desk receptionist announced that candy and cokes were in teacher's mailboxes for a walk out reception to inaugurate the weekend. Cheers echoed through the halls and one query, "Are they cold?"

The last child has just been picked up at 6:30 p.m. (school lets out at 2:30 p.m.). In conversation with her grandmother at 5:00 p.m., I said, in jest, "Well, I'll take her home with me for the weekend." Grandmother said that would be fine because she had to get to work. Will I ever learn?

The "Friday Finale, " our electronic staff letter, had about 20 staff thank you's included in it. I am not the only one who is tired.

I have earned my rest. I hope this monumental effort did some good. Did it have an impact on academic achievement? Doubtful. Maybe it's time-gasp!-to rethink this week. Focus on student work? Student lead conferences? Nothing so high minded as that occurred at any time, to be sure.