May we all have this same dream.

Careful, grammatically-correct language and an almost poetic speaking style will always get my attention. It’s an assumption on my part, of course, but I associate good grammar with people who actually know what they’re talking about. Martin Luther King, Jr. definitely knew what he was talking about, and he knew HOW to present it.

The students who don’t seem to do as well at this level are those fresh out of high school. Not all of them, of course, but of those who have and give the most problems, most are right out of high school.

This semester, every student who has asked for special privileges or exceptions, or who has excessive unexcused absences, or who has behaved poorly or inappropriately in any way, or who has plagiarized, or who has expected paper and pens handed out like Halloween candy, has been a younger student, a year or less out of high school.

I wonder sometimes if it would be better for us as a society to require at least a year of full-time employment before a student is allowed to go on to college. Would it help these young people develop a sense of pride in workmanship, in rules, in discipline, in a paycheck? If even one student learned – and probably the hard way – that a sense of entitlement and a fierce, protective mommy are actually detrimental to the personal advancement and growth of an adult student/citizen/worker, it would be worth it.

A year of full-time employment might also help a student to decide if college is really the route he/she should follow. Hopefully, it would be, but maybe not right away.

Then again, for many students, a year in a factory, or in construction, or on a farm, or in retail or foods, might well be the deciding factor in a kid’s decision to go back to school and get the kind of education that would mean never having to do such work again.

Before all non-athletic field trips were prohibited here, our high school used to take all the juniors to the local General Motors plant. Back then, probably half of the kids would end up working there in a few years anyway, and of the remaining students, some recoiled in horror at the very thought (after seeing vats of molten metal and hearing the ’scared straight’ anecdotes of the workers) and applied themselves anew to preparing for college, while others listened, fascinated, and changed their track to a Rose Hulman/Purdue engineering mode.

But oh well, no more field trips except for the athletes. Those buses were needed to transport the teams a hundred miles to a game, anyway, which is of course more important than some life-changing field trip that might help a student make a decision that would put his life on a career track. Go, team, go.

One of the problems is, most of the big factories, those places where the non-college people were pretty much guaranteed a good job with benefits, are gone now, farmed out to other countries, outsourced, so the Mothership can pay the workers less and therefore make more money for themselves. But who do they think is going to buy all those cheaply-made cars and other merchandise? Their laid-off workers? This is not a very good way to promote brand loyalty, or any other kind of loyalty. People who have no job are not in the market to buy very many things, hello, CEO dimwads.

My student population is motivated in many different ways. It’s not like a high school classroom, where the goal is (sadly) to make a high score on a standardized test. That’s no motivation for a student. Or for anybody else except big government and clueless administration. No, my students’ motivations are important, and life-changing. If they had been allowed to tour the General Motors plant, some of the decisions they are making might have been made earlier, but that’s a moot point. My students are back in school and they want very much to do well. Most of them are. A few of them aren’t, but I haven’t given up hope yet. School takes some getting used to. As their instructor, I don’t have to worry about prepping my students to do well on one big stupid poorly-written standardized test. I just have to worry about helping them find success, and NOT the kind where I diddle about with the statistics so students who are doing poorly will think they’re doing well and have fake high self esteem. I mean, REAL success. Genuine self-esteem.  The earned kind. There is no other.  Anything not personally earned is a joke.

At this level, they get what they get, and they know that; therefore, what they get is a source of pride. Or shame, as the case may be. Both are earned results, and every kid in the universe knows the difference, and why some kids get one and some the other. The only people who don’t seem to understand are those fierce protective mothers, administrators, and the PC cops.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m a fierce protective mother. But a parent who consistently stands between his/her child and the results of that child’s actions, is doing the kid no favors. Let the consequences fall, and let the kid deal with them. He/she earned them, after all. And not all consequences are bad, remember. Let the kid reap the good stuff, too, IF it was earned. Not actually and truly and equally earned? It means less than nothing, and is worse than a bad joke.

Oh, and in case there’s a sentient person out there somewhere who didn’t know: those gift-grades, given so a slacker can “graduate” with his/her classmates, are BAD, BAD THINGS. A student who chooses to earn a zero should get that zero, not the 65% that another student might have worked hard for. Whoever thought up that 65% minimum should be dragged out into the streets and shot. We all get what we earn, and if we don’t earn it, we shouldn’t get it, whether it’s points or percentages or salaries or anything, in fact, in the world.  We do not deserve what we did not earn for ourselves.

I’m proud of my students. I will miss them, after this week. They did well.

Except for those few slackers, of course, but you know what? They had the same chances and choices as the others, and they chose poorly. Let the consequences of those poor choices fall on their heads, and let them deal with it themselves.

Those who worked hard? Congratulations. Those who did not? Well, there’s always the summer session, or the fall semester. Try again. And this time, do it right.

Cripes, I love my school and my students. I wouldn’t waste my meanness if I didn’t care. It takes too much effort.

My blog, my rules.

Here’s the post:

Is anyone else out there lucky enough to have a job that makes you so happy that all you have to do is walk into the building and you feel the positive vibes? My days seem so short now; most days I feel as though I’ve just begun, and bingo, it’s time to go to bed again.

I get tired, yes. I am exhausted, usually, by the end of the day. But even so, I love this teaching gig with a passion I didn’t even know I was still capable of after enduring the slings and arrows of outrageous public school dealings for so long.

I think that after so long in the school systems of our country, the teachers who stay evolve a mindset that is almost enslavement. We endure schedules and treatment that no other professional would dream of enduring. We allow ourselves to be used and misused and overworked, all in the name of love for our students. What other professionals have a clientele that pretty much expects to be supported, fed, dressed, taught, and catered to in every possible way, without showing the least bit of gratitude? What other profession works so hard and gets so little support?  What other job books a professional  so thoroughly during the course of the day that there isn’t even time to go to the bathroom or grab a sandwich?  Is there another profession so vulnerable that it is forced to endure all kinds of abuse without any recourse and often very little, if any, in-house support?

We get so used to it, we don’t even realize that there is another world out there, where people show each other respect.

We really do love the students, don’t get me wrong. But year after year in a public school kind of makes a teacher numb to any other possibility that might be out there for a person with these talents. Every year it gets worse and worse, even while we are thinking and saying things like “Next year it will be better.”

But it never is.

Next year, the classrooms are more overcrowded, there are fewer books, there are more dysfunctional families who seem to be in charge of the system, there are more duties, there are more responsibilities, there are more problems, there are more “incidents,” and there is less and less support. There is no respite. There is no discipline. The teacher’s union here stands idly by and allows a principal to schedule a teacher to the point that there isn’t even time in the course of the day to blow her nose. I am not exaggerating, either. The contract guarantees some prep time daily? We’ll count walking down the hall to fetch yet another class as break-time. We’ll count your driving time, from building to building, as your lunch. Ask any music teacher if I’m stretching the truth.

Yes, every year it’s worse. And a teacher doesn’t really know how bad it is, until that teacher walks out and tries something new.

Me, for instance.

And now, I teach every day in a building full of wonderful hardworking students and smiling administrators and friendly janitors and awesome bosses who TALK TO US AS THOUGH WE WERE EQUALS (instead of slaves) and the building resounds with humor and happiness and dedication.

Heck, even the restrooms here are superior. And there is ALWAYS toilet paper!!!!! The halls and classrooms are clean and well-maintained. Everyone behaves properly.

Always toilet paper.  This amazes me.

The sad and odd thing is, I did not know how bad it actually was until I left the public schools. While I was there, I was the most loyal and hardworking and dedicated person in the building. Sure, the days seems awfully long, and sometimes the despair and frustration were so thick one could cut it with a knife, but it was my obsession, to somehow be a positive force in this not-very-positive place. I came to school at 7:00; I got home around 6:00. I was determined to make a difference, a positive difference.

But, but, there was no appreciation. There was only the expectation that if I could do that, I should be doing even more.

I couldn’t keep on.

But now? I feel positive every day. I love coming to school. All I have to do is walk into this building and I am instantly wide-awake and happy.

Sure, there are some, um, “interesting” students here, but MOST of them are pure quality.  They are really students, and they mean business about learning.

I still work the long hours. But I am appreciated, and treated like the professional I’d forgotten I was, all those years.

And now, I truly believe I am helping to make a positive difference. I can see it. I can hear it.

I love my job.

The really ironic thing is that in spite of all the negative things about the public schools, I still believe that this nation’s schools are the hope of our future. There is such potential in every classroom, such stories to be told, such wondrous talent and creativity and sensitivity and music concealed behind the t-shirts and the grubby jeans and exposed underwear and defiant raising of the eyebrows and the punky hair and the chips-on-the-shoulders and the trendy slang and the stubborn glares. . . . there is poetry behind the obscenities, and magnificent scientific discoveries behind the unwillingness to conform.

It’s too bad teachers are no longer allowed to cultivate it.

Why can’t we be allowed to step back and bask in the glow of unbridled enthusiasm, and throw ourselves into helping students learn and discover and grow, grow, grow, both physically and mentally and socially and culturally and scientifically. . . . .

What happened to us as a people, as a culture, as a nation, that our idea of ‘school’ has sunk to the level of equating success with a number on a piece of paper?

I do tend to rant, don’t I. My apologies.  I’m just so sorry and sad that our genuine students have to put up with the distractions and disruptions and dangers caused by others who come to school because the law makes them and who have chosen not to put any effort whatsoever in bettering themselves or fitting themselves for any kind of work and seem obsessed with not permitting anybody else to do so, either.  And, that such students people are allowed to stay and continue to hinder learning and soaring in others. Sigh. So unfair.

Teachers and parents, please rise up in protest.  Our precious children, our STUDENTS, are too valuable to be wasted.  They have a right to be truly educated, to learn, to sing, to dance, to think,  to SOAR, unhampered, and a lot of other infinitives as well.   Our children’s teachers, likewise, are too valuable to be treated like indentured servants, or like anything but the educated and trained professionals that they are.

We desperately need to take back our public schools.

I miss what my former job might have been, in a perfect world.

P.S.  Thank you, current students, for being awesome and serious about learning.  I appreciate you more than you could ever realize.

Now don’t any of you be offended. I mean, “euphorically-challenged.”

No one fails a class any more; he’s merely “passing impaired.”
You don’t have detention; you’re just one of the “exit delayed.”
Your classroom isn’t too crowded; it’s just “passage restrictive.”
No student is lazy; he’s “energentically declined.” She has “dawdling issues.”
Your locker isn’t overflowing with junk; it’s just “closure prohibitive.”
Kids don’t get grounded any more; they merely hit “social speed bumps.”
Your homework isn’t missing; it’s just having an “out of notebook” experience.
You’re not sleeping in class; you’re ‘rationing consciousness.’
You’re not late, you just have a ‘rescheduled arrival time.’
You’re not having a bad hair day; you’re suffering from ‘rebellious follicle syndrome.’
You don’t have smelly gym socks; you have “odor-retentive athletic footwear.”
No one’s tall. They are “vertically enhanced.”
No one’s short. They are “vertically challenged.”
No one’s clumsy. They are ‘gravitationally challenged.”
No one’s shy. They are “conversationally selective.”
No one’s too talkative. They are “abundantly verbal.”
You weren’t passing notes in class. You were “participating in the discreet exchange of penned meditations.”
It’s not called gossip any more. It’s “the speedy transmission of near-factual information.”
The food in the cafeteria isn’t awful. It’s “digestively challenged.”

All ways of NOT telling it like it is. I hate euphemisms. I’ve ranted about them before and every year it gets worse. We are not fooling any kids. It’s easy, however, to fool their parents.

More, from an awesome teacher-website the url of which I have lost. If anyone knows it, please tell me and I’ll put it right on here so she can get credit for her wit!

Molly demonstrates problems with spatial relationships.It’s November and she still hasn’t found her cubby.
Sarah exhibits exceptional verbal skills and an obvious propensity for social interaction.She never stops talking.
Paul’s leadership qualities need to be more democratically directed. He’s a bully.
Jonathan accomplishes tasks when his interest is frequently stimulated. He has the attention span of a gnat.
Donald is making progress in learning to express himself respectfully. He no longer uses vulgarities when talking back to me.
Alfred demonstrates some difficulty meeting the challenges of information retention. He’d forget his name if it wasn’t taped to his desk.
Bunny needs encouragement in learning to form lasting friendships. Nobody likes her.
Kenny is working toward grade level. He may even reach it — next year.
Joel appears to be aware of all classroom activities. He just can’t focus on the one we’re involved in.
Sandy seems to have difficulty distinguishing between fact and fantasy. He lies like a rug.
Allie enjoys dramatization. She may be headed for a career in show business. Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus comes to mind.
Takira’s creative writing skills are reminiscent of Socrates. It’s all Greek to me.
Elinor is a creative problem solver. She hasn’t gotten an answer right yet.
Jack demonstrates an avid interest in recreational reading. He “recreates” while other students read.
Mayrita appears to be showing an increased desire to consider demonstrating acceptable classroom behavior. She now appears to know the classroom rules. Some day she may even obey one.
Pablo participates enthusiastically in all art activities. He’s especially adept at throwing pottery … and paint … and. …
Jeremy is stimulated by participation in sequential activities. He consistently insists on fighting his way to the front of the recess line.
Juanita needs more home study time. Could you please keep her home more often?
Michael demonstrates a need for guidance in the appropriate use of time. Three hours a day is entirely too much time to spend picking his nose.
David frequently appears bored and restless. You might want to consider placing him in a more challenging environment. Prison, perhaps?

Yeah, there are a million others.

Have you seen the Top Ten Politically Correct Terms for “Sin?”

10. Mostly righteous on a good day.
9. Ethically non-enlightened
8. Morally Dyslexic
7. Good (if marked on a curve)
6. Bearing a strong family resemblance to Adam.
5. Microsoft Perfection v.1.0
4. Gravitationally influenced (fallen)
3. Motown Motivated (Supremely affected by all the Temptations)
2. Living by trial and error.

(insert drum roll here)

1. Beta holiness.

Did I mention that I hate euphemisms? Euphemisms are for sissies.

I will tell you outright that I am fat, half-blind, clumsy, and dorky. Would these things change if I used different words? No. They would not. Would fancy words make me feel better? No. Spreading icing on a shitcake doesn’t change anything; it just makes you madder if you bite.

I’d list some favorite government euphemisms but I ain’t got all day.

It’s already been a long day. A really, really long hot day.

You know. Mercurially AND chronologically challenged.

(Don’t miss the Perseids tonight!  Wake up the children and take them outside; they’ll remember that and the meteors all their lives long.)

In other words, we attend some conferences for certain reasons, and we attend other conferences for other reasons.  Often, these reasons overlap, and just as often, they do not.  Don’t expect every professional need you have to be satisfied by every conference; you need more than one, to wit, a combo of conferences.

In the long run, however, by attending various types of conferences for various reasons, I have learned far more than I ever learned in graduate school.

At first, everyone at every conference was new to me; even those whose blogs and websites I’d been reading for a while, but had not actually met, seemed new in many ways.   No matter what kind of conference it was, though, I felt I already knew these people somewhat because of their online presence.

Now, since I’m no longer a conference newbie – well, not as much of one as before -  I feel almost as if it’s Old Home Week when I go to a conference.  It’s wonderful to see familiar faces, and just as wonderful to see unfamiliar faces which I know will be familiar at the NEXT conference.  I’m far from being an A-list writer,  but the actual A-list people don’t seem to know how A-list they are and are really, really nice.  (This attitude can be different, though, depending on what kind of conference you’re attending and what kind of expectations you bring to the table.)

I guess you might say I’m thoroughly hooked on conferences.

They have greatly enhanced my ability to do my writing gigs, my social media gigs, my watchdog gigs, my teaching gigs, my help-my-students-become-writers gigs, and my time-to-surf-and-find-new-things gigs.

At each conference, I’m agig agog at the awesomeness of the attendees and presenters.  I’ve never met such smart people in my life.

For a small-town chick like me, it’s been a whole new world.  Alert Aladdin at once.

Another reason I love conferences is that because I’m a small-town chick, there really isn’t anybody close to home who understands what I do for a living.  At conferences, I can have actual conversations with actual people who actually understand!

Conferences help me hone my mad skillz.  Come with me next time and we’ll hone together.

Mamacita says:  There are many things that are wrong with and in this country – many, many things. Open a newspaper, watch television, listen to the radio, surf around the blogosphere, pretty much all we hear about are the things that are wrong.

We SHOULD be hearing about them, too; if we don’t hear about them, we can’t work to make them right. One of the many things this country does do right is allow its citizens to talk about what it does wrong.

Making wrong things right is what we do here. It’s what this country was founded for. We’d still be a British colony if it wasn’t important for us to work hard to make wrong things right.

Any time more than four people get together for anything, one of them is going to want to do wrong. The other three have to help that one wrong person do right, but it actually goes deeper than that.

It has, sadly, become the responsibility of the other three to help that one person WANT to do right. Doing anything without understanding, and against one’s will, isn’t progress of any kind; doing anything without understanding, and against one’s will, is a kind of slavery. Uneducated people sometimes have to be dealt with in this way, and that is a shame, and that is also entirely their own fault.  Everyone has access to education in this country. Some schools are better than others, but any of them will at least teach a child to read if that child lets it. and whether or not a child lets it is the responsibility of the child and the child’s family. A family that does not allow the school to teach its child to read is a bad, bad family.

This country has always valued education as the means to promote the understanding that would help a person realize that. It used to work, too, until education was forced to include things that the family unit is supposed to teach and provide, as well. We are fast becoming a welfare state, and that is a definite downgrade from being an education state.

And why is the family unit not providing and teaching what it’s supposed to provide and teach, these days? Most family still are, but many families prefer to mooch off the government rolls. They have chosen to give up their independence and become the permanent poor relations, supported by those citizens who do still work. This was supposed to be a temporary fix, and people are supposed to be just a little big ashamed of being in this position. Welfare is supposed to be a somewhat embarrassing short-term episode in a person’s life, preceding a wage-earning job and giving a worker some income while he/she is seeking full-time work. We’ve removed all the embarrassment in the name of self esteem, and that was a mistake.

But you really don’t want to get me started about the self-esteem movement. I consider it to be like most other movements: full of the same sort of fecal matter.

Every day, more and more people join the welfare rolls, and for many it’s not the temporary helping hand it was meant to be. For many, it’s now a way of life. Some people believe that the welfare way is a right, and other people SHOULD be supporting them, sometimes forever. This was not the intention of welfare. It was intended to be temporary. It was never meant to be permanent.

An uneducated, or undereducated population is a dangerous thing. It quickly becomes a parasite, not an asset, sucking the lifeblood out of resources that really ought to be aimed elsewhere.

Ronald Reagan, who was not perfect, but then, neither are any of us, said “We should measure welfare’s success by how many people leave welfare, not by how many are added.”  In this, he  was right.

This country was founded by hard workers. This country has, as one of its foundations, education for the masses. It’s there, for free, for anybody who lives here to take full advantage of. To become an adult in this country and still not know how to read and write and support oneself is a disgrace, and that disgrace is not the country’s disgrace; it is a personal disgrace. In other words, if you do/did not take advantage of the opportunity to go to school; if you let yourself grow up without acquiring a single useful skill; if you allowed yourself to become an adult and did not learn how to support yourself, shame on you. I can’t think of a worse epithet for you than that. I know that shame is now politically incorrect, but that’s ridiculous, as are most political correctness attempts. Without shame, many people will never make themselves get up, walk out the door, and start earning their living themselves. Parasites are ugly. Parasites add nothing; they only subtract. Parasites destroy beauty. Parasites steal from others to enhance themselves without effort.

Those who are able-bodied and able to work, should work, for to take charity when one is fully able to do without it is a shameful thing. NO job is too menial if you don’t have one. No job is too menial if one is truly determined to do what is right. And what is right is to support oneself and any dependents one has acquired along the way.

Some of our immigrant ancestors were doctors and lawyers and professors back in the old country; they came here and took jobs as janitors and scrubwomen so their children could have the benefits this country offered. And since their children learned to speak the language, their job horizons were brighter than those of their parents. It is still so, today. Those who are educated have more options. They deserve more, too.

People who choose to take charity when they are perfectly capable of getting up and getting a job are to be despised for the societal leeches that that are. For every adult who uses welfare money to buy cigarettes, there is a little child somewhere NOT getting milk because there wasn’t any more money. The degradation of these adults is earned, of their own free will and decisions, and they deserve every bit of the disgust they receive.

The people who are the true citizens of this country, the true patriots, are those who made sure they had marketable skills and the ability to read, write, and generally take care of themselves and of others.

There are many people living here who claim to hate this country, and who work to bring it further down. There are people living here who rejoice in the streets when bad things happen to this country. I suggest that these people leave and leave now, and live elsewhere and see if any other country would put up with their whines and violence and gleeful reactions when others get hurt.

Those who insist on living here, yet reject the education, the opportunities for supporting themselves, and who feel justified in spending other people’s hard-earned money, are not the true Americans. They are parasites, and they are killing the rest of us.

Yes, this country has many faults. I defy anyone to name any other country that would put up with some of yours, or mine.

Freedom. Independence. Education for the masses. Rights. Responsibilities.

That is what we are. Take advantage of these things, if you have the guts and the brains and the heart and the decency. Ignore them if you don’t. That’s the freedom part.

Understand, though, that the hardworking educated population is getting very tired of supporting those who choose not to work, choose not to be educated, and choose not to behave themselves properly. We are also very tired of supporting anyone who does not understand that the right to swing his fist ends where the other person’s nose begins.

And those who claim their rights had better be prepared to stand up to their responsibilities as well. You can’t have one without the other, and keep either for long.

This country has learned many lessons: slavery is gone, discrimination is legally gone, although many people still have some lessons to learn (EDUCATION! DECENT FAMILIES!) Europeans came here to an already populated country and took over, without regard for people who had lived here for hundreds of years and already had well-established civilizations. Think how you would feel if aliens landed in spaceships and took over this country, completely disregarding your prior claim to your home and demanding that you leave immediately so they might build their culture on top of yours, and labeling and treating you as some kind of violent savage if you protested and tried to defend your property?

The point is – and I do tend to ramble late at night and other times as well – we made, and make, mistakes. Big ones. We must use our education to help right those wrongs, and help the nation aim for other and better goals. Learning from the past is what educated people do; dwelling on the past, not so much.

Aristotle said, “Educated men are as much superior to uneducated men, as the living are to the dead.” He was right.

Those who care only about themselves are not much good in any other circumstance. People who become accustomed to getting something for nothing become pretty much useless, too.

We must all get up, get to work, get cracking, get learning, get smarter every day. When we stop learning, they might as well bury us, as Lucy Maude Montgomery once said. (Quick! What did she write?)

Nowhere in the world is there any other country as free as ours. Nowhere else can everybody be educated. Nowhere else can we all go where we want, when we want, wear what we want, say what we want. . . .

In some countries, even if you have the money you still can’t have some things or go some places; it’s all about social levels.

If I said we didn’t have social levels here, it would be a joke because everybody knows that we do, even though we’re not supposed to. But here, our social levels are pretty much determined and evaluated by our education and behavior, not who your daddy was, or wasn’t.

In this country, we have equality of opportunity. If you think we don’t, you aren’t looking hard enough. Opportunity does knock, but you have to be smart enough to answer the door when it does, and to recognize it for what it is when you see it. That’s the education part.

Edison nailed it when he said that “Opportunity is missed by most people because it is dressed in overalls and looks like work. ”

Everybody gripes about the state of the nation. You do; I do; everybody does. There’s a lot to gripe about. But I honestly believe that there is even more to rejoice about, and to be grateful for, and to appreciate.

If everybody swept their own front steps, the whole world would be clean.

I don’t mind loaning someone my broom, but I do expect him/her to do his/her own sweeping.

I’m glad I live here. I’m glad you do, too.

But it is a crying shame that so many people don’t do their fair share and expect us to do it for them. Sweep your own steps. It’s not rocket science.

Have a safe and enjoyable Independence Day. Watch out for aliens; they shoot to kill. I seen it in a movie oncet, with Will Smith. It were cul.

The thing is, I don’t schedule my ventures into the savannah that is my yard.  I start ripping into the weeds at random moments, and I never have those gloves with me when the mood strikes.

I’ll be walking from the car to the door and I’ll be seized with a desire to RIP those confounded * weeds OUT of the GROUND by the ROOTS before I so much as take another BREATH.

And I start tearing at them with my bare hands.  And I don’t stop until they’re gone.  Until they’re DEAD.  DEAD, uprooted.  Piled in the driveway with one end a foot higher than the other because I ripped them out by the ROOTS.

Ahem.  I’m fine now.

Well, except for the fact that, as always, my hands are covered with blisters and splinters and cuts, one of which might need a stitch, and the itch, it is beginning.  We’ll see.  In the meantime, ouch, and bring on the bandaids.

But the weeds?  They are no more.

* Coot-talk for “damn.”  Really, it should be “damned,” but who’s scoring grammar for cussing?  Besides me, I mean.

Most schools are in their last couple of weeks now, so I thought maybe it was time to post this again, in case a community is in the market for a new principal for next fall.  If any teacher or parent has more ideas to add to this “list,” I’d appreciate hearing them.  Comment away!

What are the qualities of a good principal?  I’ve never had one, but here is what I wish I’d had:

I do not need my principal to be a mentor. I need a principal who understands what kids do in a classroom on a daily basis, because a person who has never been there would have a hard time believing some of them.

I need a principal who is not a good ol’ boy.

I need a principal who knows for a fact that occasionally, a parent can be a moron. And who isn’t afraid to stand up to them, no matter how rich or influential the family might be. And who will work just as hard for a poor non-political family who can’t ‘do anything’ for him socially.

I need a principal who is not afraid to mete out consequences to any kid who chooses to break or disregard the rules. He/she should also have the ability to know when rules SHOULD be broken or disregarded.

A good principal is very visible. He/she doesn’t hole up in the office all day.

A good principal doesn’t have two or three cronies in the building who get all the perks. He/she will make bloody sure that both the pleasant and the unpleasant duties are equally shared.

He/she will treat the secretary as an equal, and not condescend to the janitors.

However, he/she will require that the janitors do their job, which includes cleaning up vomit and poop. And if the janitor can’t lift, carry, and clean, then that janitor must go, even if the janitor is the son of someone important in the system.  He will require the secretary to keep current with computer software, etc.  A secretary who won’t use anything but a typewriter has to go.  A janitor who won’t do poop and vomit must go.  A counselor who won’t do sex and friendship spats must go.

A good principal doesn’t give a rat’s ass about petty politics.

A good principal will not allow any of his/her teachers to be bullied by a parent, under any circumstances.

A good principal will not allow bullying in the building, even if the bully is the son/daughter of a friend or the corporation superintendent or the mayor.

A good principal will not let athletic functions override the academic intention of the school.

A good principal will enforce the “no pass, no play” rules. Consistently, and it doesn’t matter if a tournament is coming up.

A good principal is frequently seen around the hallways, occasionally drops in to observe a class, in the cafeteria during the students’ lunchtime, and at the door during bus loading.

In most other ways, a good principal is invisible. But when he/she is needed, he/she is there in a jiffy and will whisk any troublemakers away from the scene and scare the shit out of them with quiet dignity and the aura of ‘things to come.’

A good principal never yells, nor does he/she ‘get down on the students’ level’ with teenie-bopper slang and attempts to be cool.

A good principal will support his/her teachers in every way, until such time as the teacher (in private) must be advised about procedure, conduct, etc.

A good principal will not assume that classroom disruptions are the result of poor teaching. He/she will fully support the removal of any consistent disrupting force in the classroom.

A good principal will find out the facts before making any kind of assumption, and especially before putting any kind of negative note in a teacher’s file.

A good principal does not immediately assume that gossip is truth.

A good principal knows from first-hand experience exactly what shennanigans a student is capable of, and does not act surprised and disgusted AT THE TEACHER when a student displays such shennanigans.

A good principal never says “Now, now, I find that hard to believe” to a teacher or any adult in his building, for that matter.

A good principal understand social media, and isn’t frightened when his teachers and students use it.

And no, a principal is not an ‘instructional leader.’ A principal is a ‘facilitator,’ a ‘director,’ a ‘manager,’ a ‘backup,’ and a person to whom a teacher must feel free to consult when things go wrong, and to share the good things with, too, and know that he/she will be ABLE to rejoice or help fix any kind of tidings.

Teachers are ‘mentors’ to each other. The principal’s job is to run the school in a business and intermediary sense. To do so requires in-depth knowledge of the workings of a real classroom, not a textbook classroom, and not the classroom of a seminar leader’s youth.

Good principals are there before anyone else, and are the last ones to leave. They attend concerts and plays, not just ball games.

They’re like a good bra. You need one, you’d like to have an attractive one, but ultimately, you want one that supports and lifts you up.

Sing.  Dance.  Write poems and stories and plays and songs.  Draw.  Sculpt. Discover things.  Connect things.  Remember, everything is connected to everything else, and one of education’s jobs is to help students connect the dots.  There is nothing in the universe that you don’t know something about; my students probably know this entire speech by heart. 

Well, it’s true.  You might not know enough to land the space shuttle, but if you can spell it, you know SOMETHING about it.  Can you perform delicate and complicated brain surgery?  Probably not, but you know where the brain is located; therefore, you have schema you can bring to the table about brain surgery.  Never underestimate yourself.  You know things.  You can do things.  And you have a story to tell that nobody else can tell.  Nobody knows it but you.

Who cares what the rest of the world thinks? Be yourself.  Nobody else can do it.

You have a message for the universe that only you can deliver.  Don’t let the world inhibit you.  Don’t let anybody talk you into keeping your message to yourself.

Naturally, if you’re an evil psychotic axe murdering terrorist or a deliberately annoying prick who likes to shoot, steal, pester, disrupt, or otherwise annoy others in both deadly and non-deadly ways, keeping them from their rightful participation in the celestial dance, this does not apply to you. I include people who get off on tickling someone until they cry in this category.

Behave yourselves.  Contribute.  We need you more than you could ever know, but unless you control yourselves and do what you were born to do, nobody will want to hear your message.

Remember who’s talking here. 

Oh, not really.  I love my job.  All of them, in fact.

In honor of my love for my jobs, I shall dedicate this post to things that BOTHERED me at my former job, and which are still BOTHERING dedicated teachers today.  That my children will inherit the botched situations and circumstances of this kind of mindset REALLY bothers me.

Oh, why do it be?????

. . . that parents who do not supply or pay for their children’s school lunches are the ones who complain and whine the loudest if this FREE lunch, paid for by OTHER PEOPLE, isn’t exactly what they or their child like to eat. . . .

. . . that anyone who so obviously hates kids would end up in a classroom influencing them. . . .(you know who you are, if you’re reading this.)

. . . that so many sweet, smart kids who love learning and who have so much to give must end up in families that regard education as something that interferes with the NASCAR schedule. . . .

. . . that Jerry Springer is on at 4:00, just when little children are getting off the bus and entering empty houses, so that they grow up believing that those roadhouse incestuscums are typical people with viable lifestyles. . . .

. . . that the media celebrates shackups, illegitimate babies, divorce, adultery, and pleasing oneself regardless of the wake of heartbroken and betrayed spouses and children. . . .

. . . that the public is so quick to forget the former spouse and family of celebrities who have finally found true love after all those misunderstood years. . . .

. . . that an adult would put himself/herself before a promise, a marriage, and a child. . . .

. . . that people think a $900,000 gown on a celebrity is money well spent, but who balk at donating ten bucks to help buy shoes for an orphan who has lost everything he has and everyone he knows. . . .

. . . that a parent should care so little about the health, welfare, and safety of a child that he/she smokes in the house, or at all. . . .

. . . that there are adults who see nothing wrong with bringing a child into the smoking section of a restaurant. . . .

. . . that there are still smoking sections in restaurants at all. . . .

. . . that so many children must live without fantasy, traditions, values, imagination, and books. . . .

. . . that there are so my houses with no books at all in them. . . .

. . . that so many families’ idea of a good time is to sit and watch other people on tv doing things. .  .

. . . that there are so many people right here in the US who are so ignorant they don’t even teach their kids to brush their teeth, bathe, control their tempers, flush, wipe, or eat with utensils (probably because the adults themselves don’t know how). . . .

. . . that so many parents feel it’s their right to sit and watch the game or a tv show instead of going to watch their children sing in the choir, which means the child can’t go either. . . .

. . . that so many adults lie, cheat, steal, betray, abuse, and otherwise screw their children out of the life all children deserve. . . .

. . . that any parent would allow his/her kids to misbehave in public and disturb other people. . . .

. . . that any adult with kids could dare state that “it’s all about ME” and mean it. . . .

I’ve got more – of course I do! – but it’s midnight now and I’ve got papers to grade for tomorrow.

Y’all behave yourselves now, or you’ll find yourselves right here on a list, with the scorn of the clean and decent upon you.  You’ve been warned.

P.S.  Being an adult isn’t SUPPOSED to be fun all the time; we’ve got responsibilities, too, and frankly, those of us who fulfill them are bloody sick of doing YOUR work along with our own.

Of course, the Blogosphere is populated by people who DO work, and who DO raise their children properly and wisely, and who DO despise adults who don’t do what adults are supposed to do, so the segment of the population I so publicly despise won’t even read any of this and therefore won’t be heartbroken and devastated that the universe looks upon them with such scorn.

Good thing WE’RE all perfect, huh.