don't be a fool

...follow random bureaucratic rules.

So this week's fun new wrench in the gears: administration just remembered that we are going through accreditation next year and preemptively went all nutty on us this week, cracking down on any minor infraction. Rachel got written up for a misplaced CAHSEE packet or label or something - no one quite knows anything about it except that she did not, in fact, misplace it - and a bunch of us got nasty notes in our boxes reminding us that attendance rosters are due by the end of second period, and since we did not comply with this rule on Monday, a copy of this note was being forwarded to our overseeing Assistant Principal. Well, the joke's on them - CALA does not have an assistant principal. Ha! Anyway, as my awesomely snarky department chair pointed out - to me as well as to the writers of said note - admin is fond of reminding us that we have a no pass policy. No passes, ever. Not for seeing the counselors, not for the bathroom, and certainly not for running rosters to the attendance office during second period. "Just tell me which rule you want me to break, and I will gladly break it," she told them, predictably receiving no answer.

So I decide on Tuesday, fine, I will try this whole "complying with the roster policy" business, since they're getting all anal about it - a mere 4 weeks before we go to a computerized system, might I add (though I still do not have a working network connection, which is a whole other story. It is short, though. In fact, that may have been the whole thing.) I haven't sent my roster up before the end of 3rd this whole semester, so it seems kind of novel, and besides, my kids will try to out-well-behave each other at the mere mention of any outside errand. There, I think with some satisfaction. That will get them off my back.

Imagine, then, my ironic amusement when I opened my roster on Wednesday to discover that it had been tampered with by a student. Possibly mine, possibly not - we may never know. What I do know is that Selena, who has come to class a total of two days (the first one, and then today, of all days) was suddenly excused for all her absences, and Lara, who is one of my best students and has missed a total of one period all year, was suddenly, crudely, marked absent for a week and a half last month. Also, all of my small purple ink dots had been messily expanded in pencil, changing nothing but the neatness of my roll sheet. Huh? So, I stuck one of those massive lined Post-Its over the roll part so they'd be forced to read it up in the office, and wrote a note explaining the forgery situation (it IS, after all, a legal document) and that I had restored it to its original state per my "meticulously kept" in-class roll book. Meticulous may have been a stretch, but I filled in the gaps before sending the note, just in case anyone called me out on it. Today the roster came back with the note, almost assuredly unread, stuck to the other side of the folder. I don't know if they are illiterate or inconsiderate or think it's just not their problem, but I am keeping the note for the not-inconceivable possibility that I may find myself written up over this.

We had a PD the other night with my UCLA observer, who is kind of like everyone's sort of with-it, progressive grandma, and the conversation turned to administrations that blame teachers for the unpreventable problems in their classroom (ahem, ahem.) Our dean's office, with two exceptions, falls very much under this heading; unless blood has been drawn (which it thankfully has yet to in my classroom) they do not want to hear about it, and are a bit resentful if you make it their problem. This makes issues such as threats, extreme disobedience, constant disuption of the learning environment, and theft (ahem ahem ahem) our problem. My observer had the best-ever story about this. Back when she taught English in Torrance, she had a couple of students second period who had first period cooking class together. Pretty frequently they'd bring in goodies for her: biscuits, cookies, and the like. She always appreciated it, and she always ate them. So, nothing seemed unusual the day they left some brownies on her desk.

At this point, she pauses. "You see where this is going."

It's the next passing period and she's walking with her teacher-friend, and she says, "You know, I feel so strange today. It's like I'm here, and then a second later I'm way over there." Her friend giggles. Then they look at each other, and it hits them. Oh. No.

As I say, she is progressive and realistic and she actually thinks this is pretty funny (come to think of it, she thinks everything is funny just then,) but she also thinks that administration should probably know that some students are carrying pot on campus and distributing it to those caught unawares. So she tells them. And it comes down squarely on her head. She is in trouble with administration, with the cooking teacher, with everyone. The consensus is, This is your fault. You should have known.

Unrelated: For the record, I would like to state that I spend an average of 10 hours per day in my classroom, working through my lunch and all breaks; that I spend additional evening hours grading and preparing; that I log about 8 hours per weekend, unless I'm feeling ambitious. I would also like the record to reflect that I am paid for 6.6 hours per day, 5 days a week.

Word.