Ask a Teacher - What's the Price of Standardized Testing?

Standardized testing has become a growing tradition in public schools across the nation. In 2001, President George W. Bush signed into law the No Child Left Behind Act. A major objective of this act is that by the 2013-2014 school year (last school year), all students across the entire country would be proficient or higher. The idea of "proficient" was set individually by each state with a myriad of standards covering reading, writing, and math over all 50 states. States strove to reach the unattainable goal of proficiency as the deadline swiftly approached.

With the goal of "proficiency" there was no incentive to teach to higher levels as being above grade level carried no benefit for schools or districts. Students who were performing below proficiency, even with a host of issues influencing their performance such as placement in Exceptional Childhood Education programs (what you remember from your school years as Special Needs), identification as an English Language Learner, gross differences in socio-economic status, and other obstacles, were targeted to reach proficiency at all costs while their proficient or higher peers were left with squandered potential. Children who were incapable of reaching proficiency were shortchanged by being taught the test and those who were beyond capable were short changed by never being challenged at an appropriate level.

In 2009, President Barack Obama signed into law the American Recovery and Reinvestment Act. This Act then funded an education initiative designed to encourage "innovation" and education reform in struggling states. This initiative was called Race to the Top. With the deadline for nationwide proficiency four school years away, states were encouraged to overhaul their education programs and curriculum. Points were awarded for accepting and implementing the newly created Common Core standards, turning around "persistently low achieving"schools, and other education policies. The reward was desperately needed funding to the tune of millions of dollars that could be awarded to states from federal funding. In an effort to win the money, my own state instituted an education audit that cost taxpayers thousands while teachers interviewed to keep their own jobs before dozens of teachers per school were displaced and rehired at other schools in the district. An elaborate game of shuffling the deck left schools gutted and teachers disheartened and burnt out. In 2010, Waiting for Superman came out demonizing the public school system and public school teachers alike. A profession that already sees half of new teachers quit by their fifth year became a target for politicians and talking heads. Would you want to be a teacher?

As the new standards were accepted by more and more states, a secret war went on to create the perfect test for accountability. There is no one great test for accountability yet. Instead there is a virtual smorgasbord of testing that happens throughout the year thanks to a combination of accountability and the goal of College and Career Readiness. Students take End of Course assessments (called EOCs) in all core content areas, math, English, science, social studies, starting in sophomore and ending in senior year, the PLAN, the ACT, On Demand Writing testing, COMPASS for the unlucky seniors who didn't hit benchmark on the ACT, KYOTE for the unlucky seniors who couldn't pass the COMPASS either, and on and one. The game of standardized testing is a billion dollar a year industry. There are so many tests and so many varieties with schools hoping to achieve points to show how good they are.

The price of standardized testing as it currently stands is too much. The goal of accountability is fine on its own, but the implementation has been a mess that does little to help our students who need it most, turned those who would be excellent teachers away from the profession, and cost the taxpayers billions.
...

Emilie is a high school English teacher with two children. She holds a Bachelors in English and a Masters in Secondary Education. After completing student teaching at an urban, Persistently Low Achieving (PLA) school, she was placed at another PLA school in the same school district. Her Ask a Teacher column can also be found over at Teaching Ain't for Heroes.




 

Why the Museum Is Important - Guest Post

Since summer can leave us with days of open boredom, Sascha Fernandez, who blogs over at The Smart Little Girl's Guide to Summer, gives some great ways to make museums fun and interesting during the dog days.

...

Art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time. ~Thomas Merton

 

Shhh...I took a picture of Maddie and John Schoenherr's Sandworms of Dune, 1977

Our first adventure for the 2013 summer Camp Mommy extravaganza is our local museum. Our museum does its best to get the best exhibits it can and over the last few years has exceeded expectations.  Last year Maddie and I spent our time viewing some of the most incredible science fiction/fantasy paintings ever created.  Included in the exhibit were images and sculptures by H.R. Geiger, one of the paintings upon which the original cover of Dune was based, at least five Tolkien inspired works, and many Boris Viejo pieces.  There was concept art, costumes, and other tremendously large sculptures. Some of them were so life-like I had to stop Maddie (and myself) from touching  (and I’ll tell you a little secret..I snapped a few pictures.  Shhhhh). Though not a part of the science fiction exhibit, the Allentown Art Museum also had a Victorian Mourning exhibit around that time.  Though small in size, the pieces included historic mourning garb, mourning jewelry, hair art, and modern jewelry interpretations of Victorian mourning culture.

This summer The Allentown Art Museum is hosting a collection of the works of Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec.  Not only is this Maddie’s first exposure to the historic fine art of Europe, it’s one of mine as well. I’m glad her first exposure is so early and a painter I love and understand and can translate to Maddie.  The only other major art exhibit I ever saw was Marcel Duchamp when I was about 5 or 6.  I had no idea why there was a toilet inside a museum, and I couldn’t figure out how a big piece of broken glass with bunch of triangles, circles, and lines could be a bride (and I had no idea what bachelors were and why they were making her naked).  I kind of still don’t…and I took a fine arts class in college. 

Wait, what? Marcel Duchamp, Fountain (1917)

 My step-father was an artist who, unfortunately, never took the time to explain to me the art he loved, or help me appreciate what I saw. Perhaps I would have loved Duchamp. All these years later I believe he felt one should simply instinctively understand and be Zen about viewing a piece of art, and while I agree with that fundamentally and am a firm believer that the first emotion you feel in regard to any piece of art is the one you take with you forever, I also believe guidance is necessary, especially for a small child. Duchamp confused and frustrated me, and though I have learned about him since, and come to appreciate his talent and vision, I will never truly love him, taking those initial feelings of frustration with me as well as the internal “ugh” I hear myself say when someone mentions him. Had my step-father taken the time to crouch down next to me and explain the toilet in the museum (or simply the vision of the conceptual/Dadaism movements) I might have had a very different first experience.

So what does Duchamp mean to me all these years later?  What does it mean for my daughter? I think my younger child’s first exposure to art should be something I can explain. I don’t mean interpret, as that is up to the individual and you must encourage that, but give background information on, and help her understand the vision behind the piece itself.  Either that, or find artwork that we can learn about together.  I have a passion for the Belle Époque and the Fin de siècle so this Toulouse-Lautrec exhibit has me giddy with excitement.  I took a book on Toulouse-Lautrec out from the library and we sat together and looked at his paintings.  She saw a picture of him and asked about his legs. When I told her what happened to him she said, "well, I guess it didn't hurt his painting."  Even there we see a lesson in tolerance and understanding.

You have one activity to do before you go to the museum.  You have to give your child a basic understanding of the idea of different styles.  Several years ago my boyfriend's son came home with a project he did in art class.  Most schools are doing away with art classes unfortunately, so it falls to you to teach appreciation.  Below is a copy of his project.  The best way to do this is to choose eight different painters.  Fold a regular piece of unlined drawing paper so you have eight boxes.  Put the name of one painter in each box.  Show your child one piece of work by that painter, discuss what it looks like, and have your child do a small scale, simple reproduction.  If you discuss Jackson Pollack, have your child use markers of many colors and draw dots all over the inside of the box.  Below is a list of 10 artists and one piece of representative art. You can look up all these pieces on the internet.  Don't worry if your child can't draw a real person if you talk about Rafael...stick figures with wings works!

Aidan B. School art project (about 2010 or so)

Definitions of Artistic Movements

The best online dictionary of artistic movements is found at Art History on About.com.  Most of the definitions here are amalgamates of Art.com and Wiki entries.

Impressionism: 19th century art movement centralized in Paris. Characteristics include relatively small, thin, yet visible brush strokes, open composition, emphasis on accurate depiction of light in its changing qualities (often accentuating the effects of the passage of time), ordinary subject matter, inclusion of movement as a crucial element of human perception and experience, and unusual visual angles.
Post-impressionism: Originated in the early 20th century. Post-Impressionists extended Impressionism while rejecting its limitations: they continued using vivid colours, thick application of paint, distinctive brush strokes, and real-life subject matter, but they were more inclined to emphasize geometric forms, to distort form for expressive effect, and to use unnatural or arbitrary colour.
 
Pre-Rafaelite: Middle to late 19th century British movement that rejected the mechanical religious works of the Renaissance. These painters returned to the subjects of myth and legend, and rejected art that was seemingly done by rote and convention.

Dadaism: (Ahhh! Marcel Duchamp!)  An artistic moment in the early 20th century that valued nihilism, nonsense, and travesty.  It rejected conventional art.

Cubism: A movement of art that originated in 1907 and is still practiced today. Cubism has several key components: geometricity, a simplication of figures and objects into geometrical components and planes that may or may not add up to the whole figure or object known in the natural world, conceptual reality instead of perceptional reality, distortion of reality, the overlapping of planes, multiple views of the subject matter.  Seems like a difficult concept, but when you view a Picasso,  you'll get it.

Futurism:  From Italy around the same time Cubism was developing. A style of art that embraced mechanism and industrialsim.

Surrealism: Also an early 20th century movement. Surrealism valued the insights and subconscious realities highlighted by Freud.  It included ideas of strong emotions, emotional repression, mystical ideas, ambiguity, and the ideas of chance and spontaneity.

Contemporary: Art from the 1960's or 70's up until this very minute. Contemporary art can involve all previous art styles and most often addresses contemporary issues such as AIDS, poverty, multiculturalism, globalization, and gender issues.  Contemporary art has often been attacked as pointless scribbles that could  have been made by someone's 3 year olds; however, this is not the case.  This kind of art is planned and constructed with vision and the desire to share feelings, images, and ideas just like any other piece of art.


10 Artists and Their Most Famous Works (my opinion anyway!) 

Mona Lisa, Leonardo da Vinci, 1509 (Renaissance)

Starry Night, Vincent Van Gogh, 1889 (Post-impressionism)

Number 8, Jackson Pollack, 1949 (Abstract Impressionsim)

The Scream, Edvard Munch, 1893 (Expressionist)

Water Lilies Clouds, Claude Monet, one of 250 Water Lily paintings (Impressionsim)

The Persistence of Memory, Salvador Dali, 1931 (Surrealism)

The Kiss, Gustav Klimt, 1908 (Symbolist)

Two Dancers On the Stage, Edgar Degas, 1874 (Impressionism and Realism)

Girl With a Pearl Earring, Jan Vermeer, 1665 (Baroque)

Woman in a Hat with Pompoms and a Printed Shirt, Pablo Picasso, 1962 (Cubism)

Should I go into "why art is important" or do you know that already?  I think you know that already.  If you believe art is important you must do what you can to make it interesting and fun.  You must do what you can to prevent the eye rolls and sighs when your child has a school trip or is going with you to the museum.  The only way to achieve this is to be excited right along with them, even if you don't like the museum very much yourself.  There are a lot of questions you can ask your child while viewing paintings or sculptures that will increase your child's interaction and instinctual understanding of art.  It might help you as well.  There is nothing more wasteful than going to a museum, viewing works of art, and leaving with no more enlightenment within you than there was when you walked in. The only way to combat that is to TALK about what you see (quietly of course...proper manners in museums is another important lesson). Talk, talk, talk.  Talk at the museum, talk on the way home, talk when you get home.  

Ten Questions to Ask Your Kids About Art

(courtesy of Project Muse)

1. Look carefully at the work of art in front of you. What colors do you see in it? Take turns listing the specific colors that y ou see (for example: "I see red." "I see purple.") 

2. What do you see in the work of art in front of you? Take turns listing the objects that

you see (for example: "I see an apple." "I see a triangle.") 

3. What is going on in this work of art? Take turns mentioning whatever you see happening, no matter how small. 

4. Does anything you have noticed in this work of art so far (for example: colors, objects, or events) remind you of something in your own life? Take turns answering. 

5. Is this work of art true to life? Ho w real has the artist made things look?

6. What ideas and emotions do you think this work of art expresses? 

7. Do you have a sense of how the artist mi ght have felt when he or she made this work of art? Does it make you feel one way or another? 

8. Take a look at the other works of art displayed around this one. Do they look alike? What is similar about the way they look (for example: objects,events, feelings, the way they are made)?

What is different? 

9. What would you have called this work of art if you had made it yourself? Does the title of the work, if there is one, make sense to you? 

10. Think back on your previous observations. What have you discovered from looking at this work of art? Have you learned anything about yourself or others? Now that the game is over, ask your kids again: Do you like this work of art? Why or why not? Has your reaction to the work changed? Do you like it more or less than you did in the beginning? Why?

 

Swat Heard Round the World Wasn't Heard in Texas, Apparently

So, hey. What the hell is wrong with Texas?  Not only are men spanking teenage girls, but their mothers are sorry that they complained.

Oh.

They didn't mean to embarrass their children or their school officials by "the swat heard round the world."

And they're not totally embarrassing themselves right now, am I right?

I mean, not to be a pearl clutcher, but in the parenting groups I frequent "swats on the bum" is a phrase used to distinguish discipline from abuse. From parents. Why is it okay for strangers to strike people? Ever? An adult man shouldn't hit another adult man in a bar or on the street or in his home or anywhere, and an adult man shouldn't hit an adult woman ever, and an adult woman shouldn't hit a woman or a man or a child. No one should be hitting other people.

We are not in the stone ages. We can use our words. And when words are used on us, we can consider our actions and make changes for our future.

Do school officials really need the leeway to smack their students around? I don't care if they're 15-year-old girls who are on the honor roll, or 17-year-old boys wreaking havoc. You don't hit kids.

And lest you think it's just Texas, think again.

Only thirty one states have banned corporal punishment. Florida is not one of them.

Maybe it's just me, but you think we could take another look at these policies?

I was shocked to learn that Connecticut, where I went to school, only banned physical punishment in school systems in 1989.

I had always been under the false assumption that these barbaric tools weren't being used in the United States, and hadn't been used in ages.

Wrong.

"Many states in US have banned its use in schools. It is banned in 31 states and the District of Columbia. However, in some states, school children misbehaving can be disciplined using this punishment that does not involve 'holding a student or struggling with a student'.

Some states in the U.S. have banned it by law and some by regulation. It has been found that in 2006-2007 school year, 223,190 school children in the U.S. were subjected to physical punishment. This shows an 18% drop since the early 1980s. This trend has been steadily dropping in many states.

However, there are many states which have educators and parents, still using it as the only resort of punishment."

See a table of states and stats here.  Don't get excited. It's down at the bottom. Scroll.

Anyway, here I'd been shocked and dismayed at my husband's tales of canings in South Africa (okay, so I'm still shocked and dismayed), thinking that the U.S. was totally above that.

Guess not. And the worst of it is, people don't want to change it. People are embarrassed, not for the act itself, but for drawing negative attention to it.

Well, excuse me, Texas. I'll just go back to my own business now.

Except that a child getting "swatted" or hit or spanked, choice or no, by any type of official in any public building where she is supposed to be receiving education isn't really a private matter, in my opinion.

So, sorry you're embarrassed.

But not really.

Stop hitting students. Everyone.



 

Hilarious History

My husband's brother has a boy a few months older than the girls. He sent us a video of his son answering many historical questions correctly.

Who was the first President?
George Washington.

Who was the sixteenth President?
Abraham Lincoln.

Who is the current President?
Obama.

Who said the British are coming?
The British are coming!
Who said that?
Paul Revere.


So, Carlos and I decided to test our own children. (I haven't taught them one damn historical thing...but you can bet I'm going to start.)

Where do you live?
The living room.

Who was the first President?
Mommy.

Who was the sixteenth President?
Mommy.

Who is the current President?
Mommy.

Who said the British are coming?
The British are coming! (I guess this is a fun phrase for toddlers to say?)
Right. Who said that?
ME!

Touche, babies. Touche.


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Preschool Woes

"Mama, I don't want to go to school. I want to stay home."
"But you like school, don't you?"
"No, I don't like it."
"Well, what do you do in school. Play games? Read stories? Make sandcastles? Feed ducks? Sing?"
"Yeah! We sing. Read stories!"
"Isn't it fun?"
"Yes, it's fun...but you don't leave, okay? Don't leave, mama."
"Well, I have to leave to do some work, but I come back to get you, right?"
"Noooooooo. Don't leave! Don't leave, mama. I want to stay home. I want to do work with you."
"Who are your teachers at school? Crystal? Tiffany? Ashley?"
"Yeah, Crystal. Where's Crystal?"
"She's at school. Let's go say hi to her."
"Okay, we'll say hi, but then let's go home, okay?"
"We'll go home soon, after you do an art project and sing some songs."
"No, I don't want to. I don't want to go to school."
"But why?"
"Because I don't like to."
"Well, it's time to get in the car. Let's go say goodbye to Daddy."
"Daddy, I cry, I cry, Daddy. I don't want to go to school."
"Well, don't you have fun at school."
"Yes, ballet."
"That's right, ballet. And other things, too. And then Mommy will be back."
"No, I don't want to go to school."

...

At the school:
"Hold me, hold me, Mama. I don't want to go. I need to stay with you."
"Okay, I'll hold you, but let's go to the classroom."
"Don't leave, okay? Don't leave."

...

I stay and make some sandcastles with them.

"Okay, mommy, you go, okay. You come back."
"Yes, I'll come back."

...

I go to leave.

Cue screaming, crying madness.

This is wearing on all of us. They have a good time at school, so why the drama? They only go twice a week and I pick them up on time and watch their extra classes with them. Preschool is proving to be very hard for us, for some reason. I don't get it.

The Rules of Preschool

This will be the preschool edition. Here's a list of things that I have learned these past two weeks, the hard way.

1) When you drop your kid off, drop him off and go. They told me to do this. I didn't believe them. The first day I stayed for ten minutes or so, comforting them and telling them over and over again that I'd be back. Sounds like a good plan, right? The teachers know preschoolers, but they don't know mine, right? Mine maybe just need a little reassurance that everything will be okay.

No. Apparently (shocker, I know), the teachers do know best. Lingering confuses them, and, eventually, they'll cry either way. I stayed there for almost a half hour this morning, and when I left (and I was thisclose to taking the twins with me) they were still carrying on. I made the teachers' jobs much harder. And if they're going to cry and freak out either way, why tease them with your presence, leaving them in confusion as to what is going to happen next? Consistency is the key for three year olds. If they don't know how long you are going to stay, or when you are going to say goodbye, they worry it the whole time and make it bigger than it is.

I thought they would be comforted. That it would show them that I love them very much and will stay until they're satisfied. But in their ideal world, I would never leave them. And so the time stretches and gets harder on them, on me, and on the teachers. Drop them and go. If they are going to freak out, they are going to freak out either way. And I've watched on the other side of the window. It's true what they say. The kids are fine once you've left.

2) Find a half-day program, and if you can't, don't go pick them up in the middle of the day. I have been picking the twins up around 12:30 / 1 every afternoon. That's when all the kids go down for a nap, and I'm home and I'd rather them sleep in their own beds than on little plastic mats on the floor. After they slept and ate, I would bring them back for dance, or music, or drama or whatever specials class they had that day. This worked great for the first two weeks. I loved it. I got to see them in the middle of the day, they got to sleep in their own beds and I was sure they were well-rested and well-fed before bringing them back.

This drives the inconsistency of their day way up. If you are going to pick them up, you pick them up and bring them home full stop. They apparently don't appreciate seeing you and then having to go through the whole thing again in the afternoons. I've also been confusing them because I'll stay with them for the classes. This, again, worked well the first few times. The last time, one of my kids wouldn't let go of me and wouldn't participate in the class. The other always follows her lead, so I had two unhappy children not partaking in the fun class I'd signed them up for. They'd rather hang out up in my uterus, apparently.

3) Don't do a two-day program. Again, inconsistency. The teacher told me today, while tears were streaming down my face at the absolute monstrosity that was dropping them off this morning, that children who only go to preschool two days a week have it the hardest. She says it's because they never know what their day is going to be like.

I thought it would be a nice way to break them into this school thing. You know, gradually. A little at a time. They still get mommy five days a week, and two days a week they get extra-special-fun-extravaganza school. But toddlers don't understand days of the week. To toddlers, every time is the present. They are just grasping the fact that the past does exist and the future...they hardly understand it, although they try. As they work on getting the general idea down, there's no way they will understand that on Tuesdays and Thursdays we go to the preschool and mommy drops you off, then on Saturdays we go to the preschool and mommy stays with you because it's specials day.

A quick example of how bound my toddlers are to routine: Last week, Starbucks rolled out the Pumpkin Spice latte and I got one before picking them up from school. I gave them a sip. On that Thursday, I got another one. I gave them a sip. This Tuesday I was over it and decided I don't need to spend $4 every time I go out without the babies, so I didn't get one. I heard about how we didn't get coffee and we needed coffee for hours. After getting it only twice. My kids, at least, need routine.

They never know whether they are coming or going. Since staying home is their most comfortable routine, they cling to the monster they know, instead of braving a new, and quite fun, world.

It's the inconsistency that breeds fear of abandonment, not your presence or lack thereof. If you consistently drop them off and consistently pick them up, they know what to expect. And toddlers, above all else, need to know what to expect. Otherwise they are scared. And leaving a scared child at school is almost unthinkable to me.

So, now that I've made a royal mess of things, what is there for me to do? I plan on keeping on keeping on, but today truly broke my heart. Don't be me. I might know my children better than the teachers, but the teachers know childhood behavior better than I do. If you're going to do something, you've got to do it. Wishy-washy flip-flopping will only serve to confuse, agitate and upset your little ones...which I'm pretty sure will be the opposite of your intent.


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Welcome to the Cesspool, I mean, Preschool

So, it is Thursday. The babies should be well into their learning and playing at preschool. But no. They're here with me. Watching Sesame St., no less.

This is not because I feel I can do a better job teaching them abstract concepts. It's certainly not because I'm doing such a stellar job socializing them on my own. As much as I complained and worried on Tuesday, I didn't pull them out because I missed them too much or because they were miserable and unable to survive without me. (They actually had a great time, with a few tears thrown in here and there for good measure. When I went to pick them up, they were pretty much leading the class in story time. Heart melted.)

No, I think preschool is going to be good for us. Except for one thing. The germs.

Yes, the babies are home sick today. Yes, they got sick on the first day of preschool. The first day. You could have knocked me over with a feather when they started sneezing yesterday afternoon. I could not believe it. Which, of course, is silly. You can't live in a bubble for the first three years of your life and expect germs not to find their way in when you venture out into the world of snot and grime and sniffle-ridden kids.

But the first day? I admit, I expected them to last longer than that. And, because I'm always so prepared, I had no idea about the school's sick policy. I called to let them know this morning, although I wasn't sure if I needed to. Through that conversation, I learned two very important things:

1) The babies are going to be sick all of the time. The woman was very kind to me and basically laughed at my description of their illness and told me to feel free to drop them off because there was nothing wrong with them. "As long as they're not throwing up and they don't have a fever over 101, you can come on and bring them in, any time."

Oh.

Now, this is great because kids get colds and what are you going to do, right? Viruses are viruses, and I'm sure at this stage, my kids aren't contagious anymore anyway...or something. Plus, most people actually have lives and are busy during the hours their kids are in preschool, making it a huge inconvenience for them to stay home.

Of course, that's not the case for me. The only difference in my life is an hour more of television for the girls while I write this at home on my couch. I'd be here writing this either way.

2) People are going to send sick kids in a lot. Why? The preschool does not give you a switch day, nor does it give you your money back if you don't utilize its services for any reason. I totally understand this, but I had to ask, especially since I figure the babies will be sick more than not. It's not cheap to send twins to preschool. I can't just be having them skip days because I want to coddle them. I mean, I can and I will, I'm sure, but I really can't afford it. I'm doubting any other parent can either.

Welcome to the cesspool. At least they're having fun, right?


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The Dreaded First Day of School

I'm sitting here, listening to the whirring of my kitchen lights because for the first time in the 18 months we've lived here, I can hear them. It's quiet here, now, too quiet. I work from home, so you'd think I'd be knee deep in assignments right now, earning my much-sought-after me time, but instead I'm having trouble not getting sick.

Where is my Natalina, dancing around and clambering on me? Where is Dulce, asking for "prenzuls?" Where are the blocks all over the floor, the Elmo shouting at me from the toy box, the robot saying his ABCs? How can I be expected to work in these peaceful conditions? There isn't even a toddler trying to press buttons on my computer. No one interrupted that last sentence to ask me to get their toy that's sitting just three feet from them, or to get them juice or to help them go to the potty. No one is crying about not being allowed to watch a video.

I just went to the bathroom. Alone. Before noon naptime.

I just don't know if I can handle this. At least I've stopped crying, right? Still, it's turning out to be quite hard to check my anxiety levels. I've had my hand on the phone since I dropped them off.

What if something goes wrong? What if they hate it there? What if they're lonely? What if they're scared? What if they're SCARED? What if those jerk kids hit them or teach them bad behaviors? What if they're the jerk kids and hit someone else or teach him bad behaviors? What if they don't eat? What if they don't sleep? What if they refuse to use the potty? What if they freak out?

The morning started out like any other. I got them up, gave them breakfast. Then they were excited to put on their new backpacks and tote their new lunchboxes. Their dad helped pack them into the car. He paused to snap this picture.

When we got there, I showed the babies their cubbies and I put their things away. Tough Natalina played the part she thought she should with a smile. "Don't leave!" she said, grinning broadly.

Dulce, on the other hand, was serious. She clung to me, crying, desperate for me not to go. The teacher tried to lead her away, but she wrenched free. I walked with them over to the craft table where Dulce continued to cry and freak out.

"You can go at any time," the teacher said, smiling. "We're used to this. We'll take care of it."

I hesitated because I know that the children who do the worst at preschool are the ones whose parents hem and haw and make it seem like a big deal to leave them. But my kid was screaming and clinging to me. I wasn't leaving.

I managed to sit her down at the table and got her engaged in the craft of making paper carrots. All the other kids drew lines on their carrots as a real-life representation. Dulce drew a face. Her first real face, at that! A circle, two eyes, a nose and a smile. Not bad. I helped the babies stuff their carrots with cotton balls (all the other kids were stuffing their own...I perhaps have coddled my kids just a tad too much.) Then I told Dulce gently that I was going to leave, and asked her to count me down (a game we play meaning I'm coming back.) Engaged now, in the activity, I was able to go without tears.

Well, at least without tears on her part. I cried when I got to the car. Driving home, I even exercised my new freedom by putting the window down and blasting the music, something I haven't been able to do in years. It didn't help. I cried when I got home. I cried over breakfast with my husband even as I marveled that we could talk about the fall of Gaddafi without little voices asking us, "Why talk? Why talk?"  I'm a weenie.

I miss my kids, but I know they must be having fun. (They must be having fun, right? Right?!) I'll go and pick them up shortly and thank my good judgment for only putting them in for two days a week so that I don't have to go through this everyday.

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The Preschool Problem - Part IV: Considerations While Choosing

Emilie over at Teaching Ain't For Heroes was gracious enough to allow me to post on her blog today! I'm rounding up the preschool search, and here are some things that would have saved me time had I thought of them first...

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I’ve been searching for preschools this summer as my twins will be three come August. It’s been peachy, let me tell you. There are a lot of ways you can make this easier for everyone involved, though, with just a little foresight. Here are some things to take into consideration when looking at preschool options.

Curriculum:

You wouldn’t think curriculum would vary much for three and four year olds, but it does. Some schools combine ages, so that your three year old could be in with two year olds, or four and five year olds. Some schools center around activities. Others use a true school curriculum, complete with worksheets and homework. Others are play-based. Still others combine a preschool idea with a more daycare-like setting. Determine which would be the best fit for your child, and cross the others off the list.

Read More:

The Preschool Problem - Part III: The Visits

School  1:

I walk into the first preschool building with a twin on each hand at 12:30 p.m. It’s a small place, three rooms total, with a small playground outside. It’s old. It’s not sparklingly clean, but it’s not dirty either. Old is the best way to describe it.

Right away, the babies busied themselves with some of the toys. Magnets, toy trucks, puzzle pieces. I filled out some information and watched the administration staff struggle uncomfortably since apparently no one had told the boss about my appointment.

They brought me through a room with a few tables where the kids would eat their lunches to a small classroom-type area currently decked out for naptime with kids (all older than the babies, who will be three in August) sleeping on mats.

The teacher was quite nice. She spoke to me about how they would concentrate on one letter a week, and one shape, etc. etc. I found that a bit odd, as my kids know their letters and shapes already, but I didn’t say anything in case I had misunderstood. I know for a fact, having been on the internet since my children were infants, that compared to most babies whose parents visit online parenting forums, my kids are not the most specialest of intelligent snowflakes. I mean, they didn’t walk until one (12 months for the online parent), they didn’t talk until two (that’s 24 months, to those unaccustomed to baby ages in years), and they only just potty trained (or should I say learned?) at 2.5 (that’s 30 months).

What I’m trying to say is that at age three, I’m pretty sure whatever curriculum the teacher provides for the children will be more important in terms of learning structure, habit, listening skills and all the other undercurrents that come from lessons, than in terms of the actual content of what they’re learning, be it multiplication or the letter a.

Anyway, I digress, the teacher said the kids get four potty breaks. She was very proud when she said this. I totally misunderstood, and thought that she meant they made the children go to the bathroom at a certain time. While potty trained, my kids can’t do that (to be honest, my kids also cannot pull up their pants or wipe their butts, either…how potty trained do they need to be? I should remember to ask next time…methinks perhaps “going on their little tiny step-stool potties in the living room when they have to go” does not equal “okay, kids, it’s time to use the bathroom, get in there and don’t forget front to back, okay?”) The school also provides their meals.

At the end of the short tour, the director discreetly wrote exorbitant pricing down on a slip of paper and placed that in a folder telling me about the school. Then she sent us on our way.

School 2:

We pushed open the purple door and we were surrounded with bigger children, running around, yelling, having fun and playing on the expansive climbing jungle gym to our right. On our left there was a snack bar, selling expensive treats. We had to sign in at the desk directly in front of us where they gave us yellow bracelets indicating we were visitors.

A very nice young woman came around to give us our tour. She brought us down a long staircase spanning three floors.

“When you sign up for preschool, you’ll come in through the back. You won’t have to go through all that.” She waved her arms in a general manner, off-handedly apologizing for the uproar that met us straight out of the gate.

I understood, though. They were in the middle of their summer camp program.  A very successful program from the looks of it.

The woman brought us first to the two-year-old / three-year-old room, which I loved. It was quiet, and a few toddlers played in the corner while a few more worked with a teacher making art. Two or three were running around quietly. The ratio was five to one. Teachers helped with the potty and gave parents daily progress reports.

But, turns out, that’s not where we would be. Since the babies were born in August, they’ll always be the youngest in every class. The cutoff is September. We moved to the three-year-old / four-year-old room.

Pandemonium.

Dozens of children ran around yelling and laughing and having a free for all as the overwrought teacher tried to calm them. She finally succeeded, but it required her full attention, so I didn’t get to speak with her. The babies played calmly with a toy farm as the ruckus went on around them.

In this room, the kids are expected to go to the bathroom by themselves. The bathroom is around the hall.  They are expected to dress and undress themselves. The changing room is around the hall. They are expected to eat independently with minimal guidance from a helper. The cafeteria is its own room in a section in the back. The ratio is 13:1.

I don’t know if my kids are ready for that, to be honest. I don’t even know if they’re ready to leave me. My husband and I tried to tell them last night that someday I’ll go back to work. The notion was so preposterous to them that they thought we were joking. “Nooooo!” they yelled in that “you’re pulling my leg” way. Then they laughed and laughed. When they stopped laughing, they came over to grab my legs and worriedly exclaimed, “My mama, my mama. No leave. No go work.”

I don’t think either of these schools is right for us, but I will keep looking. If I don’t change my kids’ routine this year, I just know I’ll end up unwittingly holding them back. They need interaction with kids their own age and interaction with adults that aren’t me. They need to learn to dress, pee and eat by themselves. They’re ready, but I wouldn’t know where to begin.

The preschool search continues.

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The Preschool Problem - Part II: The Phone Calls

Fun fact about preschools here: Did you know the registration takes place in January? In January! For the next year. January.

See, my thought was, welp, the school year just ended, guess it's time to call for the next one.

How silly.

Thankfully, since you have to pay for your three year olds to go to school here, there are spaces left in several schools, and the administrators are all about getting their tens of thousands of dollars from me, so they didn't make too much of a fuss about it.

Still, it wasn't a great way to start the phone conversation.

"Hi, I've got twins and I'm looking into enrolling them in some preschool classes."

"Oh. Well, registration was in January, so..." (you're pretty much the laziest worst parent ever. Hahaha at trying to enroll now, you silly know-nothing mom).

"Well, they'll be three in August."

"Oh! Well, let me transfer you then. I think we still have space."

Oh, I see. So, okay, great. They have room for three year olds who are potty trained. That's us. I listen to the hold music.

"Hi, so and so daycare, can I help you?"

"I'm thinking of signing my twins up for preschool. Is this a preschool or a daycare."

"It's both."

"...oh. Well, okay, anyway, they'll be three in August. Do you have classes available."

"Yes, have you taken a tour?"

(No! Am I supposed to take a tour before I call?)

"Um, no, but I'd like to."

"Okay, great. Who else have you called?"

(What? Why is this any of your business?)

"Um, so and so, so and so, and so and so."

"Oh, well, you'll want to come to us. We're better than them."

(I swear to you, they said this. Two of them said this.)

"Okay, well, I'm looking forward to coming in, but first, could you tell me how much you charge for two days and fulltime?"

"...Don't you have any other questions first?"

(No! I do not have any other questions first. Everything is on your website. Please. Please. Please! Tell me how much you cost so I know whether or not I'm wasting everyone's time! Why is this so difficult?)

"Um, okay. What is your curriculum for younger kids?"

"It's on the website."

"Right, I saw that. Thought maybe you'd have something to add. Okay, then. How do you handle disciplining children?"

"It's on our website."

"Right. I saw that, too. Okay. Are you religious or secular?"

"It's..."

"Right, I know. Okay, well, how do you deal with clingers?"

"Well, that's never as much as an issue as the parent thinks it will be. The kids love it here. They won't want to come home afterward. I wouldn't even worry about it."

(Oh. Well, that was helpful. Not.)

"Okay, so how much does it cost, two days versus full ime."

"Well, it's $3,000 for two days a week. $7,000 for full time."

"Okay, thanks."

Pregnant pause.

"Don't you have any other questions?"

(Shit, I'm supposed have more questions? What am I supposed to be asking here? I really need to see the place before I get specific with my questions. Am I the worst, most uncaring mom ever, or what?)

"Well, not right now. I'd like to come in for a tour, if that's possible."

"Okay, call us next week to set up."

"Well, can't we set up now?"

"Well, we could...but I'm sure you want to call other schools first to check out your options."

(Goddamn it, no. I just want to set up a tour, please. I'd prefer you not dictate my phoning for me. Also, didn't you ask if I'd taken a tour already? This is so confusing.)

"Uh, okay. I'll do that."

So, I guess you could say I'm having an interesting experience with this preschool thing so far.


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The Preschool Problem: Part I - Should You Do It?

My kids will be three in August. They are not babies anymore. They hang out at home with me as I clean the house and do freelance work here and there. We play games, we go for walks, we play on playgrounds, we swim and explore outside...but is it enough? As I've told you before, we have separation issues, and those issues are pretty much my fault. I'm always here. They're never without me. They're never without each other. We're a dynamic threesome, but they've never experienced anything else. Is it time?

Preschool sounds better to me than daycare. There is no reason for me to use daycare. I work from home, but it's piddly work that doesn't bring in much income, and I do it in between loads of laundry and rounds of housecleaning. I certainly don't need my kids out of the house for that.

But preschool. Could they benefit from preschool? Outside learning and activities with other children their age? Adult interaction that isn't simply mommy-alla-time, mommy-all-time? They could certainly benefit from socialization. And I'm certain their potential would be realized in the hands of professionals.

Still, the questions and doubts crowded my mind as I hunkered down and did some research yesterday.

First, I questioned myself. Was I a bad mom for wanting to enroll my kids in preschool? Was I a bad mom for not wanting to enroll my kids in preschool? How was I going to justify my free time? I'd have to pick up the freelance work tenfold at least, or look for a job outside the home. If I got a job outside the home (I'm in journalism) the hours certainly wouldn't be 9-5. So preschool wouldn't even matter, even if I put them in fulltime. Doesn't that make it more hassle than it's worth? If I didn't get a job, the hours start before we start our day presently, so I'd have to shift our schedules, which is a pretty big deal around here. Is it worth it?

Then I questioned my kids. What if they were bad? What if other kids were bad? What if they hated it? What if they cried all day? What if this isn't a good thing for them, and instead will regress them. Should I put them in the hands of others when I can do it myself? What if they get sick? They're insulated here. We've hardly ever gotten sick. What if they hold this against me, and resent me?

Then I questioned the center. What if they don't follow my instructions? What if they don't care about my kids? What if they don't like my kids? What if they're lying on their website, and they enforce rules I don't agree with in ways I don't agree with? What if they don't teach my children anything? What if my children get hurt? What if they hurt my children?

But, I carried forth, and searched the sites.

They all said the same thing. They're all loving, nurturing, learning environments that will help my children grow and develop at a fast rate. They all love children. They're all, apparently, super amazing places.

They're also all, apparently, free.

Not one page had pricing.

Not one.

Are you serious with me? If you're so comfortable telling me about how awesome you are, you certainly should be comfortable enough telling me how much I have to pony up for your magical experience. Not that I would ever put a price on my child's wellbeing and future and educational development, but my price happens to be what I can afford. If I can't afford you, why waste time? Even if I visit and fall in love with your school and my children must go there, I still won't be able to afford you. So...just tell me, okay?

Finally, after spending an entire afternoon reading glowing reports of dozens of preschools in my area, I was ready to start making calls.  But that's part II.

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Learn Through Play

"I'm a frog, mama, I'm a frog...riddit, riddit...I need flies!"

Cue two babies hopping around on all fours. Soon one of the frogs finds a toy dog on the floor.

"Uh oh!" she says. "Bad dog, bad dog, bite frog!"

"Oh no!" her sister yells. "No dog, no! Go away dog! No biting!"

In an instant, one has gone from a frog to a dog and wreaks havoc upon her slimy friend.

"Mama, help me! Save me, save me!"

The frog clambers up onto my lap, no longer a frog, but a simple victim of a dog attack.

"We're safe now," I say. "Dog is gone."

Upon hearing my words, the dog wanders away, to plan its next assault. The victim does what she would normally do when she feels safe and comforted.  She sleeps.

"Shornk shoo.  Shornk shoo." She pretends to snore.  "Oh no! Mama! Dog coming!" The dog comes back with renewed strength and vigor.

"No, dog, no!" I say. "Baby, get Superman! Only he can save us."

The little one runs to the toy box, expertly avoiding the dog.  "Whoosh, whoosh! Superman!" She comes back triumphant, with the superhero in hand. The dog, understanding it's been beaten, retreats behind the wall.

Over the past few months, this house has gone through a revolution of the imagination. Games like these can evolve and sustain themselves throughout the day. My children have gone from wanting a sponge to be a hat and tantruming over it, to knowing a sponge is not a hat, and pretending it is anyway.

I'm not trained in any cognitive sciences, but I've been more proud of their blossoming imaginations than any other developments thus far. Yes, they can tell me their letters and numbers, but I've never seen them as fully engaged as when they are submerged in play.  Their games expose the inner workings of their minds and environment. Through them, I am able to see the world as they are learning to see it. And with each day that goes by, the games get more sophisticated, more complicated.  I'm a proud mom, but I didn't know why.

How validated I felt when I read this article.  It suggests that children hone their mental skills through play and imaginative games, and that this education is more valuable than anything learned by rote as if by duty.

The question becomes, why do we stop encouraging this in our children's daily lives as they get older?  It's as if, suddenly, when they hit seven or eight, we adults decide that they are ready to move on from imagination entirely, and we force memorization, logistics and critical thinking in a very structured way.  If a child, probably surprised and confused by the change, doesn't catch on, or acts out in rebellion, we punish.  Tests enforced by the federal government must be passed.  Everything is structured.  Everyone must learn in exactly the same way and know exactly the same things.  The minds we were helping to grow just a few years ago are now beaten back by the system, forced into channels they may not normally go.  The emphasis changes from loving to learn to learning to repeat. The brain is told to stop reaching for ideas not already given to us by those in charge. Children begin to learn how to give 'the right' answer, but in doing so, they have little time left to formulate their own conclusions.

More importantly, many of them stop enjoying education.

"Play is steadily losing out to what play proponents refer to as the "drill and kill" method. We drill more because they can't pay attention, but they can't pay attention because they don't have these underlying play skills, so we drill more,"  author Deborah J. Leong says. "It's pathetic."

Educators, too, are forced to work within this tiny 'acceptable' framework in order to achieve test scores that may or may not actually indicate the level of learning taking place in the classroom.  If every child were to receive 100 percent on these tests, all we would prove, in my opinion, is that we were able to completely squash individuality and creativity in favor of memorization. A learning without the learning, in fact, because all the memorization in the world will not help a child understand the building blocks of the theories behind the execution.

For now, my little princesses are safe from all this. 

When they do get to school, don't get me wrong, I hope they pass those tests with flying colors.  I also hope they never lose this originality they are starting to exhibit on a daily basis, in favor of adult approval.

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