Here We Go. Ready?

Jesus, how am I going to do this.  I've had it planned out, changed it, planned out, and changed it a number of times.  Now that I'm actually sitting in my favorite blogging spot, the screened in porch on the back of my house, I can't get started.  It's not so much that I have writers block, it's a sequencing problem.  What should I put first, second and eventually the grand finale.  Oh well, here we go.

My part time editor, part time consultant, and full time spouse and I were invited to a wedding reception this past Saturday by a former teaching colleague of hers at the hoity toity voucher school.  This former teacher was a blog reader who quit reading the blog.  Paraphrasing this former teacher, "it's sad and depressing to read about the things that go on in your classroom so I stopped reading the blog."  Knowing that I was going to be face to face with this former teacher at a wedding reception I was looking forward to speaking to him about the blog.  When the timing was right I asked him about the blog.  He responded just as I stated it a couple sentences ago but added this.  "You need to turn your blog into a book so more people can see what your classroom was like."  That took me off guard a little bit and then I said to him, "you're the fourth person to tell me to write a book."  Maybe it's time to give that some serious thought.

From a sequencing standpoint I'm going to put this part next and will refer to it later in the blog.  If you watch a fair amount of television I'm certain you've seen this commercial.  It's a recruiting commercial for the United States Marine Corp.  The setting for this commercial appears to be in a desert and out on the horizon a sand storm is going full force.  The announcer comes on and says something like this.  Most people that see something like this (sand storm) will turn and run away from it.  Not the United States marines, they will run into it.  Keep that in mind for later in the blog.

The text message poured in a few weeks ago.  I was at home reading some of the e-version news websites that I frequent when relaxing.  After I read the text message I stood up, walked over to my part time editor, part time consultant and full time spouse and showed her the text message.  Her response was two words, "oh, no!"  The first time this happened it was PhD(*)Sparty.  The second time it happened it was BaseG.  This time it was Gnu and now, like PhD(*)Sparty and BaseG before her, Gnu is gone.

Before I go any further let me say this to the naysayers who may relish the opportunity to pounce on my school corporation, that they say is in a downward spiral, about Gnu's leaving.  Don't!  Some of you are too many years removed from this school corporation and rely solely on comments from old acquaintances with bad attitudes.  So, don't give me any of your I told you so nonsense.

Gnu's job interview took place several weeks ago.  It was maybe a week or a week and a half after the interview that Gnu mentioned to me that she never heard back from the school she interviewed with and figured she didn't get the job.  A couple of weeks later the school contacted her.  Gnu ignored the call.  The school called a second time and again Gnu ignored the call.  The third call was from a family relative that works at the school where Gnu interviewed.  The phone message said, "you need to call this school about this job offer."  Gnu made the call from her car sitting in our school parking lot and took the job.  Fifteen minutes later Gnu was walking through our school's administrative offices when the BigB2 approached her and asked for a couple minutes of her time.  Gnu agreed and the BigB2 informed Gnu that there would be an inclusion teacher position opening and it she wanted the position she could have it.  Fifteen minutes.  Fifteen stinking minutes.  If Gnu delayed the return call for a little later in the day there is a good likelihood that she would still be in our school for the next school year.

It's around 8:00am, Gnu and I are in the classroom alone. "Schultz, I'm thinking about calling my new school and telling them I don't want the job.  I love this classroom, I love these kids.  If I stay one more year, I'll see Grr!, S&T, and Tourette through the fourth grade and then I'll make a change."  "No, don't call the school," I said.  "You are thinking short term and you need to think what is best for you long term.  If you turn down this opportunity, what are the chances that you will get a second opportunity.  You told me yourself that this school provides free child care and that will save you thousands of dollars until you son enters pre-school.  You told me yourself that the child care room your son will be in will be four doors down the hallway from your classroom.  You told me yourself that the top salary for the position at your new school is twenty thousands dollars more a year than this school.  You told me yourself that you think the special education department at our school corporation is disintegrating do to poor leadership.  You need to think long term, not short term."  On May 25th, Gnu walked out of the classroom, where we sat twenty-three feet apart for three years, for the last time.

Backtracking.  It's awards day, June 8th, the last day of school.  With the exception of me, the classroom sits empty.  It's approximately 3:20pm when I decided to walk down to one of the kindergarten classes that I visited several times during the school year, to deal with an unruly five year old, and talk to the teacher.  When I arrived at the classroom the teacher was in the hallway outside of her classroom talking to a parental unit so I stepped around her and walked into her classroom.  The room was a disaster.  There was stuff every where.  I was standing in the middle of her classroom when she walked up to me.  I looked at her and said, "one of two things is happening.  Either you've been asked by the BigB2 to change classrooms over the summer or you are leaving."  She looked at me and said, "I'm leaving," and you could feel the emotions building in both of us.  This is my friend, a teacher that had kindergarten scholars from hell, she had little if any help, she had enough, and she is leaving.  This is the teacher that coordinated the Veteran's Day program since I arrived at the school five years ago.  I met her father, a fellow Vietnam Veteran, who was a helicopter pilot that flew helicopters into locations he had no business flying into.  The proof that he did so was on his chest, just above his heart.  He had medals.  Lots of them.  Medals for Valor with oak leaf clusters.  This man, I once told a classroom full of six grade scholars, is a true American hero and now, like his daughter, the chances of seeing either of them again is slim.

It's now 3:35pm and our administrative czar came on the overhead speaker system.  "There are no final announcements for today, car riders, you are dismissed."  Knowing that bus riders will be dismissed next I headed toward the bus boarding point.  FBG was already there and informed me that our scholars are on the bus.  FBG then looked at me and said, "Mr. Schultz, for as long as I've known you,  I've never seen you with your shirt untucked."  Mr. FBG," I responded, "in a matter of minutes I will no long be a paid employee of this school."  "You're leaving," he asked me.  "Yes, as a paid employee," I said.  Before I could continue my conversation with FBG someone called my name.  I turned toward a bus and BigHouse was in the bus window. "Good bye Mr. Schultz, have a good summer."  I waved at him and then turned back towards FBG to continue our conversation.  In just a few seconds later you could hear the pounding coming from inside the bus.  Someone went into an anger eruption and this person was fist pounding or foot kicking either the seat in front of him or the exterior walls of the bus.  When I looked back at the bus FBG was boarding it and despite the fact that I've been trained to deal with anger eruptions, and have done so countless times over the past five years, instead of moving toward the eruption like a member of the United States Marine Corp, I turned my back and walked away.

And now you know.  Gnu is leaving and I told you, moment by moment, how I spent the last twenty minutes as a paid employee of my school corporation.  With that said, here is the rest of the story.

It's June7th, the penultimate day of the school year.  "Mr. Schultz," came the voice of the BigB2 over the intercom in the classroom.  "When you have a chance, stop by my office."  I knew exactly what she wanted, so, with the form in my hand, I walked into her office.  "I need to know what you are going to do about the next school year," she said.  "I'm really struggling with that, I haven't signed the form," I said.  "I can tell you this much," I continued.  "I'll be in the school next year as either a paid employee or a volunteer if you will have me."  "Mr. Schultz, no matter which one you choose, you will be welcomed in this school but I need to know your decision tomorrow."

June 8th.  I arrived at the school around 8:00am and headed directly to the BigB2's office.  When I sat down I informed her of my plan.  "If you allow it, I'd like to return to this school next year as a volunteer.  I will arrive, five days a week, at the start of the school day and enter my old classroom to be as much help as possible to your first year teacher in the classroom.  I will stay in the classroom until lunch time and then depart for the day.  My goal, one that Mrs. Gnu is aware of, is to do everything I can to make sure that our returning scholars don't regress to bad behavior and bad academic practices.  Once your first year teacher is comfortable with the classroom atmosphere I will slowly step away.  From there I'd like to volunteer in the general education classrooms.  So far, there are three teachers that will gladly welcome me into their classroom so it appears we could have a win, win situation."  "Mr. Schultz, we have a deal."  I checked the box on the form that said, not returning, retiring, signed it, and handed it to the BigB2.  She shook my hand, I stood, turned and I walked out of her office.

There you have it.  There is a little bit more to say about why both of us are not returning but to keep this blog from getting real long I'll save it until the next blog posting.  Thank you again for following along.  School will reconvene around the last week of July but instead of having a view from the back of a the room I'll probably be sitting off to the side of the room.