So, what if I get told no

Then I guess I need to re-examine how I invest my time rather than spend it.

• It's about my kids at home. I minimize the days I stay late. I look for a place closer to home to work. 
• It's about the kids on my roster. I'll dedicate myself to making myself an inspirational teacher. The kids will walk from my room saying, "Wow, that man knows how to teach." The kids will walk from my class feeling like it's possible to fall in love with a discipline or subject area. 
• It's about supporting my colleagues. So I'll continue to offer advice, materials, perspective, wisdom, and courtesy. I will also work to establish a gossip-free culture.

So, I have to painfully say no to a few things next year. Perhaps I won't be organizing any after school clubs. Oops, there I go with "perhaps." 

Is it impossible for me to not give more than is required as a teacher? 

Do I ask for my letter of reference right away? 

Do I write a letter of resignation? 

Do I appeal to the assistant superintendent asking for a way I can go somewhere that I can exercise leadership? 

Seriously, what do I say no to next year? Anything that doesn't address one or more of the three bullet points above. 

Just logging

In the interest of dispelling notions that teachers don't work enough hours, I offer a bit of an inventory of what I am doing in the interests of being a better teacher with my summer days. Today . . .

• E-mail communication with colleagues regarding teaching AP Macroeconomics
• E-mail communication with a former student 
• Professional Development materials preparation 
• Course mapping for AP U.S. and AP Macro in 2012-13

Lessons from a Long Year

My school year ended yesterday. It was a long one, though not quite as long as last. My classes were wonderful, filled with earnest and intelligent young men and women. But it was a year in which adults didn't always play nicely with one another, myself included.

Our outgoing chair left us with schedules that made hardly anyone happy. I'll have wonderful classes, though I'll have to work hard (more than 90% of my schedule is Advanced Placement). One colleague will pick up a challenging course he's never had before, in addition to the already challenging course he teaches. Another lost a course she invested a great deal into. Another got a back-handed compliment like mine.

The schedules were the fruit of a war of attrition fought between that outgoing chair and many in the department who never sufficiently bent the knee. Wait, that's cynical. Many in the department never offered the respect due the position. Relationships weren't there allowing adults to reasonably discuss good options in the best interest of the kids. As a result, we're left with schedules that reward friends and chastise enemies.

Sigh. In today's climate we need to be grateful for jobs, for jobs with wonderful kids, and for jobs with outstanding colleagues.

So, what have I learned (or re-learned) from 2011-12? The lessons go like this:

1) Relationships matter.
2) Small difficult conversations marked by candor and honesty make large impossible conversations less likely.
3) There is much more cost than benefit from discussing colleagues.
4) A shared set of values matters. I know this from working in an absence of them. Are we here for the kids? The program? The school? Or ourselves?
5) Making everyone's happiness a goal is to set oneself up for failure.