We’ve been warned social security will be gone by 2025. We’ve been threatened with the elimination of Saturday mail delivery. But now this...they’ve fired the librarians from the public elementary school libraries in Los Angeles. How can you have a public school with no librarian? Libraries are a fundamental need in our schools and communities and yet some collective of Einsteins at LAUSD thought that getting rid of the librarians/library aides, which would then require the schools to close the libraries if they were not adequately staffed, was a good money saving idea. Really? Why don’t we just eliminate the cafeterias too and stop feeding those kids? We have a childhood obesity problem in this country anyway, right? That would save some money for the school district, too.
It makes absolutely no sense that an educational system that is designed to enrich its students and support learning on every level would think that a library was not an essential tool in that learning process. So, now that our school has no library aide, the parents must sign up for shifts in order to keep the library open until another plan can be developed. In order to save the library, parents, grandparents, even the principal’s cousin, many of whom have neither the time nor energy to add yet another thing to their already chaotic lives, have volunteered to train and staff a public school library because the district won’t do it. At first, the district refused to even let us use the district wide system unless a union aide was present. They relented, and now the parent staffed library will be open for now. All I can say is, somewhere, Ben Franklin is rolling over in his grave.
Showing posts with label volunteering at school. Show all posts
Showing posts with label volunteering at school. Show all posts
Monday, September 26, 2011
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Back-to-School
This week we had back to school night at our daughters' school. BTS is where parents get to visit the classrooms, see their children’s work posted on the walls and listen to the teachers, room parents and principal talk about plans for the school year and how parents can help and support their kids through it. Here are ten things I love about Back-to-School Night.
1. Our principal has more enthusiasm than Cheerleader Barbie on her fifth shot of Red Bull and has brought the school into the 21st century and infused it with a much needed shot of energy!
2. Nurturing teachers who are still able to talk passionately about what they do and why they love doing it despite having been at school since 7am. (Twelve hours days should in fact be outlawed)
3. How the school holds school beautification day two days before open house so everything is tidy and pretty.
4. How the teachers manage to lay down the law about how they want the children to behave in class, while at the same time cleverly disguising the fact that they’re also laying down the law about how the parents need to behave.
5. Extra curricular activities. ‘Nuf said.
6. Teachers who are also parents who share a bit about their own lives and struggles balancing work, family, and marriage. You don’t feel so alone when your kid’s teacher also admits to struggling to get their kid’s homework done after school and practice and music classes.
7. Warm and fuzzy room parents. We have a pair of them, a husband and wife, who I swear, if they ran for elected office I’d be the first to volunteer to campaign for them. My daughter calls the whole family, the happy family because they’re always smiling, friendly and welcoming to everyone on campus and never seem moody, irritated or pissed off as if they just had a fight with their kid before heading off to school. (Unlike me at pick up and drop off, when I’m usually crankzilla after dealing with parking, morning clothing and hair battles and unfinished or lost homework)
8. That our school is a neighborhood, public school that has been around for sixtysome(?) years. We have parents at our school who attended when they were in kindergarten, now sending their own children there.
9. Information, information, information. The rest of the year, trying to get any accurate information from my children about what’s going on at school sometimes feels like I’m in a Soviet news blackout from the cold war era.
10. That for (at least) one night of the year, the principal, teachers, parents, staff can come together to support our kids and continue to make our school a great learning community.
Ten Things I Wish Were Different About Back-To-School Night
1. An over energized principal. It’s seven at night, I’ve been up since four in the morning, and at work all day…seeing anyone with that much energy can be a little overwhelming. Okay, I guess I really just wish I had whatever it is he’s on so I can be as peppy.
2. By the rules people. They’re just a guideline, folks.
3. Trying to get a sitter since kids can't come to back-to-school night.
4. Street parking or lack there of...
5. No pizza.
6. Okay, this I adore and hate – competition over who makes the best looking baked goods for the bake sale fundraiser. Some of the homemade items were over the top, looked like and were packaged as if they came from a high end bakery! I’m probably just bitter because I don’t think anybody bought my chocolate cake! If I’d only made the Halloween themed bloody finger sugar cookies with almond nails individually hand wrapped in cellophane with ribbons…
7. The fact that they made the janitor (and the teachers for that matter) pay a dollar for a cookie at the bake sale. I know it’s a fundraiser, but for Christ’s sake, the janitor cleans up the mess our kids make in the restroom, the crossing guard makes sure our kids get across the street without getting tire tracks across their midsection and the teachers spend (in some cases) more waking hours with our children every day than we do. Give them a cookie. Don’t worry about the buck.
8. How the school holds school beautification day two days before open house so everything is tidy and pretty. You can’t fool us. Yes, it looks nice for Back-to-School Night, but we know it doesn’t look like this all the time and the rest of the year there will be trash in the corners, dirty benches and tables, bathrooms which breed plague like bacteria – kids live here, we have them at home, we know. (P.S. I’m also probably feeling guilty that I had to work on beatification day and couldn’t go). Also, can I just say, I have never, ever before seen a principal who has a broom in his hand as often as this one does. First time I saw him with one, I did a double take. I wonder if he does that at home, too.
9. Professional room parents. Your kids have been at the school for five years and you’ve been the room parent in their class every single year? Don’t you think you could sit down and give someone else a chance??? (Not the couple I mentioned above. I actually have a parent crush on them – I’ve idealized them as the perfect parents. I know I’m probably wrong, but at least I can maintain my fantasy and feel like I have something to strive for).
10. Paperwork. If I have to sign one more sheet providing contact or emergency information, I think I’m going to scream and break my pencil. We have computer databases for that folks. Can’t we keep the info there and carry it over from year to year so I don’t have to spend more than three hours of my life (three hours I’ll never get back and am doomed to repeat) every year filling out the same old forms with the same old info?
1. Our principal has more enthusiasm than Cheerleader Barbie on her fifth shot of Red Bull and has brought the school into the 21st century and infused it with a much needed shot of energy!
2. Nurturing teachers who are still able to talk passionately about what they do and why they love doing it despite having been at school since 7am. (Twelve hours days should in fact be outlawed)
3. How the school holds school beautification day two days before open house so everything is tidy and pretty.
4. How the teachers manage to lay down the law about how they want the children to behave in class, while at the same time cleverly disguising the fact that they’re also laying down the law about how the parents need to behave.
5. Extra curricular activities. ‘Nuf said.
6. Teachers who are also parents who share a bit about their own lives and struggles balancing work, family, and marriage. You don’t feel so alone when your kid’s teacher also admits to struggling to get their kid’s homework done after school and practice and music classes.
7. Warm and fuzzy room parents. We have a pair of them, a husband and wife, who I swear, if they ran for elected office I’d be the first to volunteer to campaign for them. My daughter calls the whole family, the happy family because they’re always smiling, friendly and welcoming to everyone on campus and never seem moody, irritated or pissed off as if they just had a fight with their kid before heading off to school. (Unlike me at pick up and drop off, when I’m usually crankzilla after dealing with parking, morning clothing and hair battles and unfinished or lost homework)
8. That our school is a neighborhood, public school that has been around for sixtysome(?) years. We have parents at our school who attended when they were in kindergarten, now sending their own children there.
9. Information, information, information. The rest of the year, trying to get any accurate information from my children about what’s going on at school sometimes feels like I’m in a Soviet news blackout from the cold war era.
10. That for (at least) one night of the year, the principal, teachers, parents, staff can come together to support our kids and continue to make our school a great learning community.
Ten Things I Wish Were Different About Back-To-School Night
1. An over energized principal. It’s seven at night, I’ve been up since four in the morning, and at work all day…seeing anyone with that much energy can be a little overwhelming. Okay, I guess I really just wish I had whatever it is he’s on so I can be as peppy.
2. By the rules people. They’re just a guideline, folks.
3. Trying to get a sitter since kids can't come to back-to-school night.
4. Street parking or lack there of...
5. No pizza.
6. Okay, this I adore and hate – competition over who makes the best looking baked goods for the bake sale fundraiser. Some of the homemade items were over the top, looked like and were packaged as if they came from a high end bakery! I’m probably just bitter because I don’t think anybody bought my chocolate cake! If I’d only made the Halloween themed bloody finger sugar cookies with almond nails individually hand wrapped in cellophane with ribbons…
7. The fact that they made the janitor (and the teachers for that matter) pay a dollar for a cookie at the bake sale. I know it’s a fundraiser, but for Christ’s sake, the janitor cleans up the mess our kids make in the restroom, the crossing guard makes sure our kids get across the street without getting tire tracks across their midsection and the teachers spend (in some cases) more waking hours with our children every day than we do. Give them a cookie. Don’t worry about the buck.
8. How the school holds school beautification day two days before open house so everything is tidy and pretty. You can’t fool us. Yes, it looks nice for Back-to-School Night, but we know it doesn’t look like this all the time and the rest of the year there will be trash in the corners, dirty benches and tables, bathrooms which breed plague like bacteria – kids live here, we have them at home, we know. (P.S. I’m also probably feeling guilty that I had to work on beatification day and couldn’t go). Also, can I just say, I have never, ever before seen a principal who has a broom in his hand as often as this one does. First time I saw him with one, I did a double take. I wonder if he does that at home, too.
9. Professional room parents. Your kids have been at the school for five years and you’ve been the room parent in their class every single year? Don’t you think you could sit down and give someone else a chance??? (Not the couple I mentioned above. I actually have a parent crush on them – I’ve idealized them as the perfect parents. I know I’m probably wrong, but at least I can maintain my fantasy and feel like I have something to strive for).
10. Paperwork. If I have to sign one more sheet providing contact or emergency information, I think I’m going to scream and break my pencil. We have computer databases for that folks. Can’t we keep the info there and carry it over from year to year so I don’t have to spend more than three hours of my life (three hours I’ll never get back and am doomed to repeat) every year filling out the same old forms with the same old info?
Friday, June 18, 2010
Guilt and Brownies
Today is the last day of school!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So yesterday, I was up at 3:00am on Thursday morning making brownies and chocolate pound cake for the end of year class parties. Why so early? Because the night before, Wednesday, when I had planned my day so carefully to include doing everything that needed to be done including getting home in time to bake several batches of brownies and some cakes before dinner, my tire blew out. I was driving home from work, felt my car lurch and when I got out, I heard a whooshing sound as the air came out of my tire and it flattened like a pancake right there in the middle of the road. I was cursing and talking to myself and anyone who saw me probably thought I was a crazy homeless person, except for the bag and shoes. Calling AAA and getting the tire swapped out for the spare ate into most of my day and any hope of accomplishing the long list of to do’s that have been weighing on me, was gone. At first I cried…really, it was pathetic when I think about it. There are people hungry, losing their homes, so desperate they’d cause harm to themselves and their families and I’m crying over a blown tire. Then I got mad, whined to myself, “This isn’t fair! Why me? Why today? This is the last thing I needed!” I got the girls home and was in a foul mood. I tossed my bags onto the counter and pulled out the pile of things I had to get done and realized I would be up all night if I attempted to do them. So I gave up. I said, “I’m going to be the bad mommy who even though she signed up to bring in treats for the party, is going to flake.” I’d never done a mommy school flake before. I’ve either thrown myself into helping, or made a firm decision to abstain. But to say I would do something for school and then just back out – would have been a first for me. But I didn’t care. I was firm in my resolve that just this once, I’d let something go, I didn’t have to be all things to all people. I convinced myself that my daughters wouldn’t care if I didn’t make anything for them to bring in and that in the whole scheme of things, they wouldn’t be sitting up in a therapist’s office twenty years from now complaining about what a lame mother they had who always embarrassed them in school by flaking out. Trust me, there are other ways I embarrass them at school – walking them in daily, demanding kisses in front of their cool friends, singing Gloria Gaynor’s disco classic, “I Will Survive” (at full volume, in public, at school) anytime my girls complain about having to do something they deem horrible. But I didn’t think a missed brownie would cause them much pain.
I was up all night worrying about the brownies. I really didn’t want to be the mommy flake and mostly, I didn’t want my girls growing up feeling like I didn’t care enough to do that one small thing for them and their class. Ridiculous, I know, but I tossed and turned in bed for about two hours until I finally just crawled out from under the covers at 3:00am, went into the kitchen and pulled out the baking pans. I made some coffee while I baked and an hour and a half later I had about 48 mini brownie bites and a chocolate pound cake on the counter. I poured myself another cup of coffee and went into my office to write while the goodies cooled.
I realize all my emotions weren’t about a brownie at all. They were about feeling pulled in so many different ways and not feeling like I could give my best to any of them – home, work, or family. I felt guilty for not being the mom I wanted to be – the moms my children always point out at school who can stay for every assembly and put in a full work week volunteering in the classroom. But I can’t always do that. I do what I can, but I work. I like working, I like writing, and I like keeping what little of my sanity that I have left. If I devoted that much time at school as well they would have to carry me out in a straight jacket. But that being said, I had children to be a part of their lives, not to wedge them into mine. I wanted to make the brownies because it would make my children happy and show them that I cared about what they were doing at school and wanted to be a part of it. So I got up at 3:00am and baked them. My guilt assuaged, I went off to work and drank a third cup of coffee when I got there.
Afterschool, I threw myself into a chair, barely able to keep my eyes open while we ate dinner in front of the t.v. and Nicole and David yelled at the screen during the Lakers’ game. My youngest, Natalie, crawled up on my lap and kissed me on the cheek, saying, “Thanks for the brownies. Everybody loved them. There was only one left…I saved it for you.” Too bad I’m allergic to wheat because the brownie looked good and I wouldn't have felt the least bit guilty eating it.
I was up all night worrying about the brownies. I really didn’t want to be the mommy flake and mostly, I didn’t want my girls growing up feeling like I didn’t care enough to do that one small thing for them and their class. Ridiculous, I know, but I tossed and turned in bed for about two hours until I finally just crawled out from under the covers at 3:00am, went into the kitchen and pulled out the baking pans. I made some coffee while I baked and an hour and a half later I had about 48 mini brownie bites and a chocolate pound cake on the counter. I poured myself another cup of coffee and went into my office to write while the goodies cooled.
I realize all my emotions weren’t about a brownie at all. They were about feeling pulled in so many different ways and not feeling like I could give my best to any of them – home, work, or family. I felt guilty for not being the mom I wanted to be – the moms my children always point out at school who can stay for every assembly and put in a full work week volunteering in the classroom. But I can’t always do that. I do what I can, but I work. I like working, I like writing, and I like keeping what little of my sanity that I have left. If I devoted that much time at school as well they would have to carry me out in a straight jacket. But that being said, I had children to be a part of their lives, not to wedge them into mine. I wanted to make the brownies because it would make my children happy and show them that I cared about what they were doing at school and wanted to be a part of it. So I got up at 3:00am and baked them. My guilt assuaged, I went off to work and drank a third cup of coffee when I got there.
Afterschool, I threw myself into a chair, barely able to keep my eyes open while we ate dinner in front of the t.v. and Nicole and David yelled at the screen during the Lakers’ game. My youngest, Natalie, crawled up on my lap and kissed me on the cheek, saying, “Thanks for the brownies. Everybody loved them. There was only one left…I saved it for you.” Too bad I’m allergic to wheat because the brownie looked good and I wouldn't have felt the least bit guilty eating it.
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