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Today I wasted four hours of my life in professional development hell. See, we are required by our Superintendent, AKA The Terrible Little Dwarf, to develop ourselves professionally during our summer vacation. I think he's afraid we'll have fun, or relax, or something heinous like that. I signed up for some stuff that sounded interesting, like the good little monkey trainer I am. Today's offering was "Using Reading Stategies in the Middle School Classroom." Now, I teach my kids all kinds of research-based reading strategy stuff already. It's heavily supported by our wonderful textbooks and the fantastic teacher resource materials they come with. (I'm serious!) I use all that good stuff, and my reading SOL scores are nice and lofty, and my kiddos seem to enjoy reading by the end of the year. I was hoping this class would be something new and fresh to add to my bag of tricks. Instead, I got a rehash of what I've been using for two years, from our textbook materials. Okay, so I'm now reassured that I'm doing something right. Go, me. But I still have to listen to four hours of insane nattering from several of my classmates. Mercifully, none of them (the silly ones) are English teachers. One lady had to be told FOUR TIMES to turn off her cell phone. Another CLEANED OUT HER PURSE (full of noisy cellophane crap) for about thirty minutes. Still another pronounced "abyss" like "abbess." The nice library lady to my left wanted to know if Isaac Asimov was the guy who wrote "Fahrenheit 911." (Yes, she meant "Fahrenheit 451.") Someone else insisted there was no Shakespeare in the middle school curriculum, until I hauled out the curriculum guide and SHOWED her. Another lady refused to do our group activity until she'd had some "peepee time." Yes, she called it that in front of a room full of grownups, some male. Me? I kept reminding myself to be sweet, no matter what. I was, too. I tried very hard to be helpful. I thanked the instructor for her time and effort. I offered to share lesson plans with one brand-new eighth grade teacher I met. I promise I was not mean, condescending, or obnoxious to anyone. I am, however, frustrated and embarrassed that a room full of my colleagues could be so incredibly thick. I know I'm not perfect, but these folks made me look brilliant. I'd much rather have felt stupid, because then I could be assured that students all over the city were being taught by the best brains our paltry salaries could buy. Oh, wait.. I think I get it now. Off to watch "Aliens" with he Samurai. We're working our way through all the extended version DVDs. Last night, we decided that "Alien" is the scariest movie we've ever seen, mostly because of all the shots of John Hurt in his underwear. Spiderman he ain't. |
 
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Monkey Apples