Years ago my state initiated something called “open enrollment” in our public school system. Families and kids can choose which district they would like their kids to attend. If they opt out of their home district, they can request another district allow their kids to go there. The home district must approve the transfer, the new non-home district can choose whether or not to accept the kid. Once a kid is enrolled in the new district, they cannot force them to leave if they are failing or being a twit. On the other hand, the home district has to allow them to come back at any time.

Over the years, various bugs have been worked out of the system. For instance, the state doesn’t want kids hopping from one district to another for sports. They addressed that with very rigid eligibility rules that seem to be working quite well. Even so there are still some problems. One of them is funding. Parents continue to pay school taxes in their home district while their kids attend class in a different district. Those parents have nothing vested in the home district and tend to vote down additional funding the home district may need. It can be frustrating.

All of those problems seem inconsequential when I sit back and look at what Bush’s “NCLB” (No Child Left Behind) program is doing to a number of kids. I understand that he was hoping to fix problems in education. I know there were some problems. I know some kids were struggling. However, I’m seeing more kids being left behind in a rather ugly game that’s happening.

Kids are tested, retested, and tested again. The plan is all kids – even special learners – will be at high performing levels by 2014. Everywhere the pressure is on for districts to make sure as many kids as possible do well on these tests. To meet this goal, some things are being left out of curriculums altogether so teachers can focus on teaching to the test. Perhaps one can argue those things are not “necessary”, but I argue that higher level thinking requires more than the rote memory type things that is needed on these tests.

Within each district students are divided into all kinds of categories – males, females, Native American males and females, African American males and females, free and reduced lunch eligibility kids, special education kids, etc. etc. etc. If any of those groups doesn’t make the grade, the school has failed to meet AYP (annual yearly progress). If too many kids are absent and don’t take the tests, the school fails to meet AYP. Currently, my school is failing to meet AYP. Both our elementary and secondary schools as a whole flew through the testing, yet we needed one more special education student to pass the tests in order to meet – it didn’t happened.

While each year, the bar for passing the tests gets higher more and more school districts fail to meet AYP. Currently, over half the districts in my state are failing for one reason or another. If a district continues to fail, their funding can be cut – along with other penalties. All of this puts school and students into a pretty sad situation.

I never truly realized how much until this year. I don’t know how I missed this or why I didn’t pay closer attention to what is happening. Whatever the reason, I am saddened by what I am seeing.

Several of my co-workers and I were looking at the “list” of kids that are cross-registering out of our district this year. Each of them were kids that were struggling students; a number of them were “my” kids – the ones I’ve blogged about – the ones that I have poured my heart into – the ones that are kids in trouble that need extra help. I sighed as I mentally said good-bye to them. It didn’t hit me until someone said “This is going to help with AYP.”

It’s true.

In an tragic sense, it’s a cause for celebration among districts when their “kids in trouble” bail out and head to other districts. Along with their problems, they take their failing test scores with them. Those scores become another district’s problem; it puts another district at risk. It saves your own.

I hate this.

The very kids that we should be helping most become liabilities to school districts. No district wants to risk the loss of funding. The kids are becoming casualties. In essence, we are leaving more children behind now that we’ve adopted “no child left behind”. Districts are better off without them.

I’m angry.

One neighboring district with a large student population has come right out and said – they crunch the numbers to find out how many absent kids they can have before being cited. After that number has been determined, they tell their slowest kids to stay home the day the test is being administered. As of yet, my district doesn’t play that game – we test 100% of our kids.

Newspapers report the results. People see failing districts and mutter about how bad our schools are. They don’t realize what’s happening behind those doors. They don’t know some districts are failing because two of their kids with Down’s Syndrome weren’t able to pass reading and math tests at the 8^th grade level. They don’t realize that some are failing because too many kids failed to show up the day the test was given. They don’t realize how many variables are.

All that aside – my heart is breaking for those lost kids – the ones no district wants to claim.

Fuck the whole thing – THOSE kids have always been my very favorites. While I enjoy teaching and working with the higher achievers too, I utterly love the challenge of the troubled kids. To many many districts and administrators those kids are simply liabilities.

It sucks – welcome to NCLB.

Peace

Fa la la la la, la la la la – I love love love love my friend, Eilie! Yesterday I was grumbly and cranky, but the horse thing completely got my mind off the situation that was making me grumbly and cranky.

That didn’t make it go away though, so today the grumbly crankiness was back. It’s a long story, I won’t bore you with the details. Needless to say, I was irritated in a huge huge way.

This evening I was sounding off about it to Eilie and she came up with the perfect way to resolve the situation. Brilliant! I’m going to use her solution and life will be good.

Yup, that’s what friends are for – solving problems. Damn, I love that girl!

Peace

Life can be funny. Sometimes just when you are feeling utterly cranky and ornery, something odd happens that makes you laugh and changes your mood in the blink of an eye.

Today’s entry was going to be a rant. Before I sat down to write, one of my best friends called and I wandered out to my upper deck to rant to her while sucking down a cup of coffee. Our lab was doing her usual wander about the yard to check out the chipmunks, I was muttering to “S” on the phone, and suddenly I heard a huge thundering noise.

I ran to the edge of the deck to see if a giant herd of deer was about to invade. There were no deer. There were two rather giant horses coming at full gallop. I blinked, I blinked twice, I said to “S” – “Uh, there are horses in my yard now.”

The kids came running as well. They were in the family room when they heard the pounding of running horses. Mancub said “Mom, I think we have horses.”

I hung up the phone and we watched as the horses galloped down to our pond, ran around the lower part of the yard, then came flying back toward the house. The lab was freaking out and we quickly realized we needed to get her onto the deck with us. As we called her, the horses flew closer.

There is a narrow walkway between the upper deck and the woods and they charged toward that just as our dog was running toward us. Panic set in. I was worried my kids were about to see their beloved pooch pounded under the feet of frightened equines. Fortunately, the dog got to us before the horses got to her.

We watched as the horses continued running through our yard before they took off down the road.

There are a number of homes around here that keep horses and the kids knew exactly which one our latest visitors belonged to. We hopped into the car to let them know – they weren’t home. Their neighbors were, however, and they said they’d come horse hunting as soon as they grabbed whatever one needs to chase down a runaway horse or two.

It was a whole new experience. It was amazing to see those beautiful animals running about. I’m hoping nothing happened to them because they absolutely lightened my mood and brought a smile to my face.

Now – I’m just dreading the moment the hub sees the torn up yard that the giant critters left behind! He’ll mutter, but he has a yard roller – this will just give him an excuse to use it.

Peace

PS – Logis, I am beginning to think I live in a zoo!

When we bought this place, the hub was thrilled to have a giant detached garage where he could store his toys. The building is commonly called the “Man Cave”. In it he stores boats, 4-wheelers, the mower, snowmobiles, fishing gear, ski equipment, etc. What once looked like a giant, roomy outbuilding is fast becoming filled to the brim.

We also have a very small barn on our property. We cleaned the place out so we could use that to store patio furniture and gardening stuff – the barn is more “my” outside space. That said, I hate going in there – it’s musty, dusty, spidery, and buggy creepy – not my thing!

Our house has a two stall attached garage as well. The plan for this space (other than storing vehicles) was shelving for holiday stuff, a place to keep the trash and recycling bins, and stuff like that. Nowhere in our plan was “Mouse Condo” – yet, the little buggers have decided to make our home their home.

They have settled into the garage in alarming numbers. Mancub has become a master mouse trapper. He’s baiting, setting, and dumping the dead mice on a daily basis. It’s simply disgusting!

If that wasn’t bad enough, they little creatures discovered the closet in my sunroom! My house has three floors of living space – the sunroom and foyer are on a floor by themselves. The sunroom is one of my favorite rooms in this house – it has a lot of windows, skylights, a woodstove, our hot tub, and a gazillion plants. It’s a wonderful place to curl up in a cushy chair and read a book.

In one corner of the room is a large walk in storage closet. I keep all kinds of things in this space. This is where my mistake began – I put a small bag of bird seed in thei. The damn bag may have well been a neon sign saying “Hello Mice – The Buffet is OPEN”. Grrrrrrrrrrrrr!

Fortunately, the rest of the house is rodent free. We’ve set traps everywhere we could think of, and all of them have remained empty. But, between the storage closet and the attached garage, I’m utterly and completely disgusted, horrified, repulsed, and cruded out.

I cannot WAIT until they are gone. In the meantime, my mighty mouse trapping son will remain hard at work.

Yuk!

Peace

Tomorrow I am running off again for a few days. I’d thought about heading to the lake, but I’m going in the opposite direction this time. I’m heading south – to farm country.

Every once in a while I like to pack up the cubs and head down to touch base with the relatives that spend their lives working the land. There are several huge farms that they own; we explore them all. They grow crops, they have dairy cattle, pigs, horses, chickens, and sheep. There are barn cats and muttlies wandering around. The kids love it.

The other day I decided it was time to go again. Whenever I do this, the hub looks at me as if I am some foreign creature. He simply cannot imagine me wearing a beat out pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and a ponytail while I pitter patter around a barn or hop on a tractor. He’s never gone with me to visit the farmer relatives – he likes them a great deal, but has no desire to visit them on their home turf.

I’m taking my painted toes and fingernails. My blowdryer will be in my bag. I’ll put on my make up every morning. I always bring “me” whenever I go. The relatives down there smile indulgently. It doesn’t make any difference to them how I look when I toss on my baseball cap. They love me as I am – just as I do them.

So, while some people are heading to the beach over the weekend, I’m heading to the farm. While some of you are slipping into bikinis and splashing in the waves – I’ll be in jeans riding on a tractor. Ha! I think it sounds like fun to me. I love my every once in a while venture to the farm.

Peace

Summer decided to show up this week. It’s f’ing hot and sticky outside and I’m fast becoming an ornery wench.

I have loved the way June, July, and the first part of August were. The days were generally pleasant – rarely above 75 and often below 70 during the day. Evenings were in the 50s and, occasionally, they’d drop to the 40s. We’ve not even taken the cover off our A/C unit!

Suddenly, the sticky icky humid goo that makes a person feel like a soggy rag 24/7 has invaded my space.

It’s not supposed to last – within a couple days I’ll be a happy blogger once again!

Can you tell I have ABSOLUTELY nothing to babble about today?

Peace

And so the countdown begins – I’m heading back to work in a few weeks.

Each year brings changes of some sort or another; this one isn’t an exception.

New kids, a couple new teachers, and two of my bestest friends will be my bosses.

Whoa! Hold the fort on that one – that’s going to be the strangest feeling of all.

My current principal is a good friend and has been since I began working there. Even though we hang out in the same group when we are all out and all that jazz – he’s been my “boss” and not really a best pal.

This year he’s swithing to part time and they are filling the gap with two assistant principals. Both of them are already on staff and hold the licensure needed to do this. Both of them are good friends – one of them is someone I talked to almost every day. We share secrets and our lives – we’ve done so for years.

I don’t see these friendships becoming strained, but it will be a mite different I think.

I’m looking forward to seeing how it all works out.

Peace

It’s official – I can no longer refer to my youngest as Babycub. It seems that overnight she’s become a young woman – complete with a chest, an eye for boys, dabbling with make up, clothes, worrying about her hair, and all that goes with those girly rites of passage.

She doesn’t see it, but she is my clone. There are so many odd little personality traits and quirks that I see that so resemble my own. My older daughter is a blend of the hub and me – this little one is pure “me” inside a much younger body.

It’s an odd feeling to see. I am constantly telling myself “let her make her own mistakes, we all have to do that” when I see her repeating the silly girl things that I’ve done myself. Advice is one thing – living my life over again through her is simply wrong. She has to spread her wings and fly.

There are some things that are different between us though. I grew up in a home with a schizophrenic mother. I never knew which way was up. I never knew when she would fly off the handle and start to physically or mentally abuse me. That sort of thing can destroy a kid’s confidence; it teaches you to be wary of the world and to walk on eggshells around people. Babycub has only known love – she has the confidence to take on the world that I have always lacked.

This confidence will take her far. Sure, she has quirky bits of “I am not pretty enough, athletic enough, etc.”, but her sense of  who she is and what she can do is strong. She will be thirteen next month, and already she is researching colleges as far away as England and Italy. She wants to fly and I know she will. Her dreams are huge, but she knows she will succeed. I’ll miss this child when she takes wing, but I’ll be proud to call her mine – no matter where she finds herself.

Until then I will savor every moment with her, or at least I will try to – those ugly teen years are ahead of us both.

For the next few years she will have to gain more confidence about her own appearance. I hate that girls tend to worry so much about this part of their lives – but it is a fact of life. That’s her weakness; she just doesn’t see herself the way the rest of us do.

The other day we were looking at old pics from my high school years. She giggled over the clothing, the hair styles, and everything else that screamed out my generation. Eventually she paused and said “Oh mom, I would kill to look like you did when you were in high school. You were so beautiful.”

I pretended to be horrified when she put that in past tense and she scrambled to backtrack the part about “used to”. It made us both laugh, but I told her that she IS beautiful and that she simply has to gain the confidence to understand what beauty truly is. It’s not just how one looks – it is what is inside.

Inside this young girl who will now be referred to as Little Miss – is a truly beautiful person that makes me proud.

Peace

The fam grew by one member last month. He was supposed to make his grand entrance late in the month, but he opted to emerge from the womb the day we returned from Montreal.

Yup, my son and his wife have done it again. I have to admit, the two of them produce some damn fine babies! We scampered home to give him a welcome and to grab my granddaughter so she could stay with us for a bit. Yet one more reason I was too busy to flip on the computer for a few weeks.

Baby, mom, and dad are all doing great. However, this “Bebe” (remember, I’m Bebe and the hub is “Hairy”  instead of being called grandma and grampa – those titles just sound so fuddy duddy) – anyway, this Bebe is feeling lonely now that my wee fifteen month old granddaughter has gone back to her own family.

For almost two weeks I got to spoil her rotten and I savored every moment. I’ve never been a huge fan of babies (I much prefer older kids that can carry on a conversation of sorts), but these wee children have stolen my heart just as my own childred did when they were that age.

While she stayed with us, she was delightful. She’s taller than my own babies were at that age and I’ve discovered something fantastic about that. Taller babies and shorter bebes can easily walk hand in hand as they explore the world together. I loved those moments when she and I would just wander the yard while she marveled at the simplest of things. Blades of grass, shiny stones, flowers, and low hanging branches made her giggle.

As for the little guy – he’s gorgeous. I’ve spent time cuddling him, rocking him, and just staring into his eyes. Later this month, I’ll be taking both of them for a night. That should be an adventure!

Peace

A while back I mentioned Hells Angels was coming to town. Yeah yeah yeah, I left out the apostrophe – apparently, that’s how they do it and I’m not gonna argue with these dudes about punctuation!

They rolled in just over a week ago and began setting up camp a couple of miles from my house. Within a day or so there were hundreds of bikes and bikers cruising through the area and a zillion trillion police right on their tails. It was amazing!

Our local Sheriff’s Department had been planning and coordinating with other local law enforcement agencies. We are a tiny little town in a tiny little county in the middle of nowhere – they’d never dealt with anything like this. On the heels of the Angels were members of the FBI, the DEA, Homeland Security, State Highway Patrol, members of various law enforcement agencies from several hundred miles away, and the local air base was put on alert. At night helicopters buzzed overhead shining their spotlights down on any activities the Angels had going.

Overkill?

Who knows.

I do know that nothing bad happened while they were around, but I also shook my head at what I felt was blatant harrassment of the Bike Gang by law enforcement.

I’m no fan of Hells Angels. I know their reputation. I know they deal drugs, run prostitution, and are known for violence and murder. Even so – I think things were taken too far.

In a quarter mile stretch near Angel “headquarters” hundreds of vehicles and bikes were being pulled over each day. When bikers went into local stores, police followed them around.

Evey local I have spoken to was embarrassed, irritated, frustated, or furious with the heavy handed tactics of our police. The police adamantly denied they were profiling and argue that nothing happened because they kept us all safe. We’ll never know.

In any case, I have no wild stories of the Angels to tell. I doubt they will ever be back to my part of the world. Not only did the police chase them around every waking moment, but the weather was shit. If it wasn’t raining, it was windy and cold – not exactly pleasant for anyone.

So tata to Hells Angels. I do hope that next year they find somewhere else to visit. I prefer NOT feeling like I’m living in a police state each time I venture from my yard.

Peace