2017: The Return of the Itinerant Teacher ... To Being Itinerant

2017: A Teaching Year in Review

There's an adage that annoys teachers: Those who can, do; those who can't, teach. And yet we will also ponder the fate of those who "can't teach" -- often they become "consultants" after a year and a half in the classroom, becoming self-appointed experts at telling the rest of us how to do it.

In my case, it's not a matter of "can't teach" as much as "won't let me". Now, I'm not assigning blame, for a couple of reasons: first, I don't wish to burn bridges, nor kill my own career; second, I'm not entirely blameless in the situation. Stuff happens.

Looking back, 2017 started as a year of promises, and in five and a half months, many planted seeds seemed to be taking root and flowering. Bearing fruit, if you will. And then someone razed the garden.

In December 2017, after a few months in the ATR (Absentee Teacher Reserve) Pool, subbing for a few different schools, I received an inquiry about a math position in Park Slope. My previous school year had been dreadful, resulting in a "Developing" rating and the loss of nearly 20 pounds. I had been happy to be in the pool for those months, subbing for other teachers, occasionally pushing into and assisting in math classes, and generally covering whatever needed covering. As restful as this was, however, I couldn't see this being a career path for me, so I looked into the school that had contacted me.

There was several pluses that stuck out: it was in my old neighborhood, which was easy enough to get to; it was a small school inside a big building, shared with other small schools; and I had previously worked in the building, so I knew that there wasn't a history of "trouble" in the halls and stairwells.

The principal and AP were nice people, answered my questions as well as they could. Note that my first question, considering previous experiences, was "Is this position provisional or permanent?" Was I being hired to teach math at the school or to fill a void until the end of the year?

Honestly, I couldn't tell you at the time which answer I expected or even which I would've preferred, so long as I had an answer and knew what to expect. I was told that he had been told by "downtown" that whomever he hired that's who he hired. That was it.

So in January 2017, I was making progress getting to know my new Algebra and Geometry students, just as they were making progress. I found strengths in some low-performing students. A few others were suddenly "turned on" to math, which they hadn't been in middle school. And I made important connections with a couple of students who seemed troubled in their own ways. I found ways to reach them, to be able to talk to them (somewhat). They knew they could talk to me if anything was troubling them, disrupting their class time, distracting them from learning.

I made enough progress that I was once able to say to a reluctant talker, "I'm sorry but I only have a minute, so can we jump to the point where you start speaking to me?"

It was abrupt, but she opened up right away and asked what she had to, and I was able to answer her. Next time, I let her go back to her natural process before speaking, but I noted she spoke up a little sooner.

By spring, we could practically have a conversation without prompting. By June, she told me that she saw me as a kind of "mentor" figure. That same day I was called into the office for a meeting. I thought it was a post-observation conference or the end-of-year review (a little early). When I saw the ELL teacher in the room, I wondered if there had been an issue with one of my students.

No, the ELL teacher was also the union rep. She was there because I was being excessed. Let go. From a "permanent" position. I chose my words carefully because I didn't want to end my career. And I might have. I felt betrayed. And I felt I was betraying my students who had made connections with me and whom I thought I'd see again the following school year.

In the principal's mind, the position hadn't been filled yet. He was still searching, not that he'd ever mentioned this in the prior six months. Any protest or argument from me was cut off with a simple question: would I like to still be considered for the position?

As much as I wanted to tell him to shove it -- OF COURSE, I WANTED TO BE CONSIDERED FOR THE POSITION. I thought it was MY position. I was already making plans for next year, what to change in the curriculum, how to approach Geometry with my current Algebra students, how I wanted to redo the classroom. That ended it. Except I knew I wasn't going to be considered or we wouldn't be having the conversation. I'm too expensive, and new teachers are easy on the budget.

So I started making my good-byes to some of the students. I hope they do well. A couple of them were following me on social media and still contacted me early in the fall semester, but the contact has fallen off. I hope they found new mentors, ones that aren't going anywhere.

This would be a good point for a musical interlude, in place of my summer break, so I can stop rambling and recollect my thoughts.

The end of the summer brought another plot twist: the city and the union agreed to change the rules about placement. If I didn't find a position, if a school did not hire me, then there was a good chance that the city would select an open position somewhere in Brooklyn (possibly beyond) and place me there anyway, whether or not I wished to go there and without regard to the school's desires or ability to fit me in their budget. And that placement would be permanent unless -- here's the catch -- the teacher received a developing or unsatisfactory rating!

So what did this mean for me as a teacher: I could find myself in a horrible school, in a horrible neighborhood, in a horrible situation like the one that caused me to drop to a weight beginning with the number 1 (which I hadn't seen since the year started with the number 1). I might not be able to get out of it, if I couldn't find an open position. Moreover, if the school didn't want me there, then they could make my life miserable so I'd get an unsatisfactory rating!

Granted, it was no picnic for the schools, either, and it was no surprise that I got a few inquiries after this announcement, while at the same time, open positions started disappearing. I applied to quite a few places, but, sorry, I wasn't going back to middle school, and I wasn't traveling to the Bronx. (Note: it's a minimum two-hour travel, one-way, by subway to get to the Bronx from my house.)

Making my search more desperate, an email arrived stating that my first temporary assignment was at Cobble Hill High School for American Studies. Nice neighborhood, not a lot of teenagers in it. I spent one single week at that school and I rated it as probably the worst week of my teaching career. That week was an absolute disaster, and I didn't want to repeat it. I only name the school so I can give credit where it's due. I had maybe 1 or 2 difficult assignments during my eight weeks there in September and October. While the school still has its share of problems, I didn't encounter anything like the last time. And I'll give a shout-out to Stephanie (I hope I spelled it right), for taking good care of me and the other ATRs assigned there. On my last day there, I told her that I wish I could take her with me.

Okay, so what about that forced assignment? It might still be coming for all I know. We keep hearing that math is a shortage area. And there are openings, but schools are still playing games.

In mid-September, a former colleague, now an assistant principal reached out to me through the DOE email and through Facebook (we're not "friends" on Facebook) to let me know about an opening in Queens. I wasn't thrilled with the idea of Queens, but with the future uncertain, it paid to check it out. Basically, it was a temporary position for someone who might be coming back soon, might be filing an extension, or might be retiring (after exhausting extensions). I met with the principal, saw the classrooms, spoke with some students, and, honestly, couldn't think of a reason not to be there, except the location and the travel time wasn't that bad. I was "basically" hired right there and they were going to put the paperwork through. By the middle of the following week, I got an email from Datacation, saying that an account had been set up for me with the online grading system at the school. I checked online and saw the rosters for four of my five classes. I just waited for the call to report.

And I waited.

And I waited.

And I checked the online grading system. I was still in there, but I only had one class, and it didn't have any students in it.

I can only assume that the teacher returned to work. You might think that someone might've informed me of this, especially after they pursued me and framed it as doing them a big favor. I was more disappointed about the snub then about the loss of the position.

Speaking of snubs. When the summer was drawing to a close and prospects were dwindling, I reached out to my old AP at the school I taught at for a decade (most of that before the current AP was there). The school that had excessed me -- twice. Why would I do such a thing? Because I still go back to their end-of-year parties to say good-bye to retiring colleagues. Last June, that school lost two-thirds of (non-ISS) math teachers. That is, they lost two out of three. Now considering that the AP of Operations told the Summer School principal that I am the "go to" guy for math, you might think that they would give me a call about coming back there.

You would be wrong. The call never came. I am Facebook friends with my former AP (although I have reason to believe that she's "muted" me), so I knew that she and her husband were on a European vacation this summer. When she returned, I contacted her through DOE email (not through Facebook -- that would be tacky). No response. Not even, "we have somebody." And here's the thing, she was at the end-of-year party. We'd spoken. She heard about what had happened to me, so she knew that I was available. We didn't discuss it -- again, it was a party and that would be tacky.

One last one: One school I contacted in the summer didn't return my messages, and then it no longer listed an opening. Early October they send me an email telling me that they've scheduled me for an interview AND a 20-minute demo lesson with such-and-such parameters and expectations, and it would be the day after I read the email. EXCUSE ME? I emailed back, "Sorry, but tomorrow is my annual check-up, and I need to be in the doctor's office. Can we reschedule?" They never replied.

So that's the way my year was going. I'm currently at a nice school close to my home. The UFT representative even approached me about staying there on my first day. If he asks me on my last day, I might ask him to see what he can do.

Life can be easy for someone in my situation if you can roll with it, but I can't see keeping myself afloat like this for another ten to fifteen years.

So while I'm happy for a relaxing end to 2017, I'm hoping to a more satisfying 2018.

My Plans As An Educator in 2016? Seriously?

What are my plans as an educator in 2016?

Well, my first victory is to acknowledge to myself that I am, in fact, an educator. Sometimes I forget that. Sometimes I remember that but it doesn't really seem like that. Sometimes it seems like outside forces are acknowledging it only to try to counter that reality.

No, I know I am a Teacher, and that isn't going to change any time soon.

But plans? What's the expression about "a battle plan is only good until . . . " No, I do not see my students, any of them, as "the enemy", even if some are openly hostile to me or to learning in general. But many grand plans -- especially those coming from boring PD -- seem to crash and burn when they hit the classroom. Maybe the resources weren't there or in working order. Maybe the backup wasn't what it should've been. Maybe the response wasn't what was expected.

And for every plan, you need 30 (individual) contingencies and another few backups, in case of snafus.

(Not the way I thought I'd start the blog in the New Year, but then I didn't think I'd end the old year by throwing out my back, helping someone, so bear with me.)

I admire the people I follow online who can make grand plans. For a better part of the last couple of years, I assured them I would model some of their suggestions should I ever have a permanent classroom again. (I've been floating around the system for a couple of years.) Well, I finally got a classroom, and the challenges I face are substantial -- and unmatched by any of my current online peers. Should I look for new Twitter chats? I doubt the teachers facing what I do have time for them.

As it is, I've cut back on the one or two education-based chats that used to participate in weekly -- back when I didn't have papers to grade, parents to call, anecdotals to write, online systems to update. Email is a wonderful tool -- I wish the parents used it in connection with their child's educational welfare.

I plan One Day at a Time. Whenever I plan too far ahead, I have to alter those plans and most of the effort has been wasted.

I might have a goal, but I've seen so many plans crash and burn that I've been sticking to things that work. Try something new? Sure, I'll try to sneak things in, and gauge the reaction and effectiveness.

But first I have to get over the feeling that I'd prefer to "float around the system" again. I don't hate being in the classroom. But I'm close to saying I hate being in some classrooms.

Okay, end of rant. I'll try to be more positive tomorrow. Or maybe next week.

Twitterati Challenge

So first a thanks to Gregory Taylor (@mathtans) of Canada -- I'll get you for this, even as five other educators are preparing to get me -- for including me in his list of five “Twitter Stars”, following his own nomination by Chris Smith (@aap03102) in Scotland. I'm in NYC, so we've crossed the pond and come down across the border, eh?

I first heard about this Challenge in Greg's tweet.

A little more about Greg: We first met when he stumbled across my webcomic, and he let me know about a project of his own, Taylor's Polynomials, which was something new. Not quite a comic, not quite a story serial. I admit, I didn't always keep up to date with it, but I liked the song parodies. ("Making a Graph! Making a Graph!") And, as noted above, he has a regular blog as well.

Greg has a very detailed post about the beginnings of the #TwitteratiChallenge hashtag, so I don't need to, er, rehash it. But I will repeat his link to the Teacher Toolkit post, explaining all of this.

So keeping it fun and without getting too introspective about this, I'll move along and play by the rules, sort of, maybe ...

INTRO: In the spirit of social-media-educator friendships, this summer it is time to recognize your most supportive colleagues in a simple blogpost shout-out. Whatever your reason, these 5 educators should be your 5 go-to people in times of challenge and critique, or for verification and support.

RULES

There are only 3 rules.
1. You cannot knowingly include someone you work with in real life.
2. You cannot list somebody that has already been named if you are already made aware of them being listed on #TwitteratiChallenge.
3. You will need to copy and paste the title of this blogpost, the rules, and what to do information into your own blog post.

WHAT TO DO

If you would like to participate with your own list, here’s how:
1. Within 7 days of being nominated by somebody else, you need to identify colleagues that you rely on, or go to for support and challenge.
2. You need to write your own #TwitteratiChallenge blogpost. (If you do not have your own blog, try @StaffRm.)
3. As the educator nominated, that means that you reading this must either: a) record a video of themselves in continuous footage and announce their acceptance of the challenge, following by a pouring of your (chosen) drink over a glass of ice.
4. Then, the drink is to be lifted with a ‘cheers’ before the participant nominates their five other educators to participate in the challenge.
5. The educator that is now newly nominated has 7 days to compose their own #TwitteratiChallenge blogpost (use the hashtag) and identify who their top 5 go-to educators are.

I'll cheat a little on 3 & 4, because the beverage of choice would likely be hot, and it'd be a waste to pour it over ice. Even to make a concoction such as the much-talked-about "iced coffee" would require steps that would be too boring to watch. And not every beverage goes with ice anyway. But for the sake of the rules, I suppose that this is some part of that whole "ice challenge video" meme leftover from last summer. But I digress.

FIVE TWITTERATI

Coming up with five was a little difficult. First, I had to scratch a few off because they were nominated by Taylor (or along with him). Then I wanted to be a little fair to others: there are some people who will be in the lists of one of those whom I've nominated. Why make it harder for them? And then I realized I wouldn't have as much trouble as I thought getting up to five ... it'd be getting down to five.

In no particular order, if you believe that a math teacher couldn't find some "order" to justify any combination or permutation:

Stacey Roshan (@buddyxo): I think I've "known" Stacey longer than anyone in this post, with the exception of the aforementioned-soon-to-be-gotten Mr. Taylor. I use "known" in the Internet sense of "we don't actually know each other, but we've had long distance communication". Stacey contacted me about using one of my comics in a presentation, which is something we're all supposed to do -- ask permission, not use my comics, but, yeah, that, too. But it's when I started following her on Twitter that things got interesting. Stacey is a champion of the flipped classroom, a concept which intrigues me, but one that I probably couldn't have gotten past my Assistant Principal a couple years ago. There would be implementation issues for the population I was teaching, but I think it would be a great thing if they gave it a real chance. I know this because I follow what she's doing even if it doesn't apply to me right now.

Samantha S. Bates (@sjsbates): I first found Samantha when she started following me. I'm bad about returning "follows" -- I don't do it automatically, and I usually want to find out about the person first. At this point, I believe at least a dozen people I follow also follow Samantha. One of the funny things about my involvement with Twitter was that even though I knew I could use it for help with teaching, I didn't want my Twitter feed to ever become a string of teacher tweets. Well, that all changed. Samantha, pretty much, introduced me to the concept of Twitter teacher chats. (Again, I don't know whether I'm passing along praise or blame at this point. Your mileage may vary.) When she participated in these chats, I became so intrigued by her half of the conversation, that I started searching for the questions or the responses. She also inadvertently, or maybe "advertently", led me to the next person on the list ... (okay, so maybe order does matter at this point)

Doug Robertson (@TheWeirdTeacher): Doug is the Weird Teacher. You know this because it follows the "@" symbol. And because it's written on his profile pic. Which is taken from the cover of his book. Which is so popular amongst teachers that it has its own weekly Book Club chat, as well as, not one, but *TWO* -- I'm a math teacher, I love to count, ah, ah, ah -- #WeirdEd chats each week. They're actually the same chat, at 7 pm PST and 7 pm EST, the latter for the East Coast teachers who find 10pm to be past their bedtimes, but who have managed to eat dinner by 7pm. (I seem to have one conflict or the other, but I make it when I can.) It's always a lively, fun discussion, and his weird sense of humor shines through every other day of the week in whatever random post he's, um, posting. If you think my humor is weird, remember that he has it in writing. So, Doug, I list you among the Top Five. (You're Welcome).

Michael Pershan (@mpershan): Michael may have the distinction of being the one person on this list that I've met. We were both at the NYC Math Teacher tweetup back in December 2014, with a bunch of other wonderful math people (a phrase that English teachers call "redundant"). Michael is a Geometry teacher, like I am. However, he teachers 3rd and 4th graders, which I don't -- I have HS Geometry. And yet, when he posts, I recognize the same of the (teaching) problems and situations and solutions and relate to them. Excluding my witty comments, I think I've replied to more of his posts with than any other teacher's, outside of chats. (But if you do exclude my witty comments, you're excluding 90% of my comments, for varying values of "witty".) Sidenote: the tweet-up was fun -- we need to do that again some time. I could use a night out.

Rosy Burke (@rosy_burke): I'm going to tell you two secrets about my little cousin: First, she's 238 years old in dog years. That's not actually a secret: he tweeted that one of her students came up with that. Doesn't look a day over 237, if you ask me, right? Second, she's not my cousin. That just came up in a chat, and we went with it. No one questioned it. Rosy is another teacher of younger grades, but that doesn't mean that I can't apply her tweets to an older audience. And, hopefully, with teachers like Rosy in the younger grades, I'll have more ready, more capable students in the upper grades. (You know, if they move across the country and just happen to find my school, whichever one that is.)

So that's my list, and now that I'm done, I realize that it could've been a lot longer.

And here's some other stuff that I'm including because Greg did, and I'm stealing it without asking permission. Shame on me, but I know he doesn't mind. (And I've already linked to his post.) Now, for the purists, the backtrack blogs:
-To me, from Gregory Taylor@mathtans
Via @aap03102
Via @mathsjem,
via @aegilopoides, 
via @KDWScience,
via @Chocotzar,
via @heatherleatt,
via @MaryMyatt,
via @cherrylkd, From SOURCE (TeacherToolkit, above).

You can also find @Sue_Cowley’s May 11th compilation here, and I've seen @JillBerry102 often pop up in association with the hashtag.

Goals for 2015

"Looking at my list of goals for 2015 and I notice that the majority depend upon the acquisition of superpowers. Could prove an obstacle."
-- Christopher Burke, on Twitter and Facebook

I do have a handful of goals -- more like suggestions, guidelines, really -- which will not require superpowers, but might involve managing or creating extra time. (Okay, so maybe that one is a superpower...)

A few things which I would like to do more of this year, in no particular order:

- Read more. Goal is a book a week, particularly now that I'm commuting by train instead of car. This is malleable -- I'm not going to stick to sixty-page novellas and avoid seven-hundred page monstrosities because I can't finish in time. And I reserve the right to use that week to evaluate if the book is even worth reading -- if I can't get through chapters 1 and 2 in four subway rides, it's not likely to happen. And, generally speaking, I usually hate 700-page books anyway.

-- Write more. Not just math articles, but stories, drafts of stories, whatever. I can't self-publish anything if there's nothing written in final form. I've taken too long off. Pick a plot and go for it. Maybe I'll troll twitter for plot suggestions, and ask for crazy combos. Whatever.

-- Record more. No, I'm not going to start a podcast, but I could start recording my blog entries in the same way that I recorded my class summaries a couple of years ago. I stopped because my students weren't listening to them. I know this because I hid Easter eggs in those reviews.

-- Transcribe. I used to keep writing journals. I have all of them. These days, I make notes in whatever's handy. I have three or four different notebooks with overlapping anecdotes and plot ideas. They need to be consolidated. Likewise, there are comic ideas buried everywhere, and I need to find them. Somewhere, I have the topic for this year's Mothers Day comic, and unless I find it again or the topic comes up again, I won't be making it this year.

In any case, the old journals should be typed up. I have twenty-year-old story ideas that need to be done already. Especially now that I have 20 years more writing experience and won't write stuff that will make me cringe when I re-read it. (At least, not as much.)

-- Learn how to make an eBook, and then make some eBooks. Put them on my kindle or put them on Amazon for sale. Whether it's an .epub fiction anthology or a .pdf collection of Common Core worksheets, I should have something out there. Branding.

-- Find a permanent teaching slot. It looks like I won't be going back to either of my last two teaching positions, so I need to find a new one where I'll be happy and less frustrated, where most of the students want to learn and the rest are able to once drawn to it. It's not out of the realm of possibilities.

-- Blog as I can. No, seriously, December taught me not to over-promise (particularly since I'm overestimating the number of people I'm actually promising). I delivered pretty well on the blogging, but the comic suffered. Even though the blog entries seem to get more hits than the comics, the comics are what got me started and they're my first love and first priority.

Another list of random websites I jotted down years ago

While at a professional development session years back, the facilitator was talking about all the different sites on the Internet that could prove useful other than just having a blog. Some were placing to search and get ideas. Others were places to go and send your students (possibly). I thought of it as places to market my comic. I think that this is how I learned about the old digg and reddit.

At some point, I have to check if these sites exist and add links. Also, I have to check which can be viewed in public schools.
In no particular order, here is what I scribbled down:

• Wheel of Lunch
• Hype Machine
• Census Dashboard.
• listpic.com
• twitter
• delicio.us
• doggdot.us
• Slashdot
• imgur

Other notes in the margins:

• feeds
• podcasting
• host ip.info
• GeoMicro
• 1337 jargon
• Digg
• Kazaa
• Joost

I recognize some of these, and have used some. Digg has completely changed and is useless now. Imgur has recently been blocked by the DOE, most likely for porn, gore and death -- if you type in a random five-letter combination, you will likely find a picture, but only God knows of what!

(blog): Last Friday's #NYCMathTweetUp Meet-Up

As promised yesterday, more about my weekend meet-ups.

On Friday Night, a gathering of #mathednyc took place at the offices of Offices of New Visions for Public Schools on West 13 Street in New York City, dubbed the #NYCMathTweetUp. I'm not sure how the capitalization worked with hashtags. Prior to the event, I read that n > 30 had RSVPed, where n is "the number of people interested". However, upon arrival, I discovered fewer than that made it there on a cold night, but this didn't discourage anyone.

The icebreaker game started as soon as we stepped off the elevator and filled in our name tag. We had to pick another tag from the tree with the name of another guest. I thought to jokingly call these hashtags, but they actually contained our Twitter handles instead. The goal was to locate that person and start a conversation. I joked that I might find my partner, but she might excuse herself because she was still looking for her partner. And I say "she" because I did, in fact, locate @khatrimath before the evening ended. I didn't have many comments to make at that point, except that I thought that the two of us were the only ones with math in our Twitter handles.

Guests were asked to bring a math activity that we could try out. I promptly forgot all about that. Not a problem, however, because (1) David Wees @daidwees supplied us with a page of New Visions Math Tweetup Puzzles, and (2) we didn't actually do any. But that was fine, because the conversations were flowing nicely. (I even stopped talking long enough to allow other to speak... a few times, any way ...)

The one major activity of the evening (after eating too many sliders) was an activity entitled Things That Suck. As educators, we divided ourselves into three camps -- Totally Sucks, Does Not Suck, and Need More Info/Might (Not) Suck -- on each of several burning topics, including Homework, Regents exams and Professional Development. This last one being the reason I tweeted that the evening was "like Professional Development, but, you know, fun", and why the first response to that was "the kind that doesn't suck", by the aforementioned @khatrimath.

The evening wound down and the conversation continued at a local establishment a few blocks away, where the picture I posted yesterday was taken.

---

Update: What the heck, I'll add a little about Saturday night, too. I was debating whether or not to add a little more about the Celtic Cross concert because the readers here are usually looking for mathy-geeky comics or math-education discussion. But I'm Irish, and I had a good time, so why not? It's not blog, right?

I uploaded a couple of videos to youtube. I'll link you to their cover of Little Talks, which I referenced in a comic last summer. Search on user cjburke23 to find a bunch more. It was a fun show, and I had a sneak peek at their playlist so that I'd know when to film songs I hadn't gotten before. Unfortunately, they strayed from the playlist a few times. After the end of the evening, the crowd was screaming for "One. More. Song. One! More! Song!", and they obliged (and even played two).

It was at this point, the lead singer, Kathleen Vessey Fee called me over (I was close to the front) and said, "Chris, give someone your phone!". Then she handed me the Cowbell and the stick to play it. Unfortunately, I didn't know anyone well enough to hand over my videocamera (it's not a phone) who wasn't also dancing. The thing is: I knew that this would likely happen, given that it was a birthday night out for me, and this was secretly why I invited a bunch of people. So there isn't any video of it (not that I'm aware of), but I played along on the Black-Eyed Peas Tonight's Gonna Be A Good Night, which then led into Taylor Swift's You Belong With Me.

It was at this point that the jaw of the young lady pictured below dropped halfway to the dance floor as did those of several of her friends, all of whom were surprised that I appeared to know the song and could sing along with it. So I got a picture with my first "groupie", Jill. The gentleman with her took it, so I'm safe. And it was about time we were introduced because she and her friends are regulars at these shows, and we've bumped into each other on the (very small) dance floor before.

So no math discussions that night, not even about the Guinness t-test, unless that was a taste test.

(blog): It Was a Meet-Up Weekend

Until recently, I had a lot of make-up weekends, lost Saturdays and Sundays were I made-up the backlog of work that I let snowball from Monday to Friday (or the week or weeks before). However, this weekend was a Meet-up Weekend, where I got to meet up with people I didn't know personally beforehand, but now I can say I have.

Warning: These meetups keep me out late -- not complaining. On the contrary, glad that I'm out of a rut. On the other hand, I haven't made up the sleep yet, so this is a short intro post, and the actual events will get described tomorrow. (No comic tomorrow, either. I haven't done one yet, and don't intend to in the next 20 minutes or so.)

Friday night, if you are a math educator in or near New York City and you blog, tweet or post anything about education, you should have joined us at the NYC Math Education Tweetup at New Visions for Public Schools. According to my email, about 30 people were scheduled to attend; however, I think the weather might've scared a few off. Likewise, parking in Manhattan (I took a train) can be a nightmare and finding the correct address was a minor adventure in oddly-labeled buildings. Again, I'll go into more detail tomorrow. I didn't have a decent camera on me, but pictures were taken, and I'm waiting for more to show up online or in email. One picture did show up at the "after-party" -- that's me on the right.

I got a little turned around in the village and thought I was heading in the correct direction for the train. I should've taken the hint when I was standing at the corner of West 4th Street and West 12th Street that something was amiss. I did figure it out, and eventually trains did get me home much later than I expected.

Unfortunately, my body won't sleep late once the sun's up unless it's extremely cloudy, so I lost a couple of hours. However, that didn't prevent me from joining Celtic Cross at a concert. (By joining, I mean that we were all at the same place at the same time.) The music didn't start until after 10pm. Funny thing, back in college, I never went to a late-night show like this. Now, I seem to do it every couple of months. It was an extra-special outing for me in that some family and friends were going to join me for a change to celebrate my birthday last week. Unfortunately, by showtime, every one of them had a legitimate reason for not being there. But I didn't care. I met other people, fans of the band, some of whom I've seen before, even if we hadn't spoken. I also found out others were having birthdays. At one point, three of us met and discovered that we were 30, 40 and 50. Unfortunately, one of us walked away before we could get a picture. I won't mention which it was, but here are the other two (me and Elizabeth).

I wore a red shirt to be festive for Christmas and all that, but by that part of the evening, it was too hot, so I wore it open. I got some compliments on the Celtic Cross design on my shirt, which has no connection to the band other than their name. (That is, their logo is different.)

Again, I can go into detail about the fun I had in a post tomorrow, but if you need to know why I like this band so much and follow them around, here's a little bit of a hint:

(me and Kathleen Vessey Fee)

(Blog): MATHice in Scienceland

Only three days into my new substitute assignment, and I have a few observations. Now, i don't want to get political or start anything -- that's not me. I try to roll with it, whatever it is, and not stir the pot. Especially, considering that I have to revisit this pot for the next month. But, here goes ...

One of the school's Living Environment teachers has been out sick. (I don't know how many the school has.) I've covered her classes every day this week, so far, and likely will continue to do so. I don't mind, but the kids do. They're objecting to the work posted on the board with no one to teach them. They're frustrated and confused and don't like to be told to read the text book. Some of them do what they have to do and try their best. Some of them, I think they just want a teacher to tell them the answers to the questions. And some don't seem to care at all. And none are happy that there's a math teacher in their science class.

Today, I tried to talk to a few of them. It was a good day for this because many of the freshmen were gone on a trip and some of my classes had fewer than a dozen students present. Unfortunately, they just wanted to complain (which is fine, so far as that goes), but they didn't want to hear any solutions -- not the ones that are possible or likely. They need to step up and take matters into their own hands, but they don't have the maturity for it.

Have you heard me complain lately that today's freshmen are less mature than the junior high school students I needed to get away from a dozen years ago?

I don't have all the facts, just some anecdotals. At my last school, while they were losing teachers to budget cuts, I knew that the Living Environment (aka Biology) teachers were safe. (This is my impression, mind you, not a statement of facts.) They were needed more than any of the other science teachers because they were the freshmen class, and everyone has to pass that class and Regents exam. If I extrapolate this, Living Environment teachers are likely in high demand, meaning that they have options as to what school they teach in. Which means that they'll leave a poor school in a heartbeat if something better becomes available.

Without passing judgment, I tried to explain to the kids that if someone was looking for a position, would they pick a school that's been around for 50 years or one that was reopened in the past five? That's not the perfect measure for adults, but that's something the kids could understand without feeling insulted.

Not all 50-year-old schools are great, but they've "reorganized" the poorer performing ones in recent years. But if you're looking for a position (which I've done too much of in recent years) and you see a school where, say, 80% of the kids graduate in 4 years and 70% go on to college, and a second one where, say, 40% of the kids graduate in four years and who wants to contemplate the low number going to college, which do you think the teacher is going to lean toward? If one school has staff who have been there for more than a decade, and the other is only five years old and no one's been there for more than three of those five years, which do you think the teacher is going to lean toward?

If a teacher were to walk into my classroom while I was subbing and saw what little respect the students had not only for me (the sub), but for the property of their actual teacher and (let's face it) for themselves, would they want to come to this school?

End result: if the school is poorly-performing, then you aren't going to be able to attract a qualified teacher whose future depends on the performance of immature individuals who have been taught to respect themselves above all else to the exclusion of having any respect for others, without actually recognizing that they aren't respecting their own future as they find "disrespect" in everything anyone tells them that is contrary to their own preconceived (and immature) notions of reality.

Is that the school's fault? Is it the kids' fault? The parents' fault? The teacher's fault?

I don't know. I'll play it safe. I'll blame Bloomberg. He didn't create the mess. He just made it worse by trying to remake the schools in his own image. And he's not my boss anymore, so I can get away with that now.

(Blog): 8 Lies Math Students Love to Tell!

In honor of the marking period ending and grade submissions coming due, we present to you ...

The Top 8 Lies Math Students Love to Tell

8. I'm doing my work!

7. Why am I failing? I handed in all my homeworks and passed all my testses (sic).

6. I was just about to get started.

5. Hey, why'd you erase it? I was copying that.

4. I said that!

3. I'm finished.

2. Mr. Burke, you the greatest math teacher evah! (week before grades are due and/or parents coming to school)

And the Number One Lie Math Students Love to Tell. . .

1. I did my best. I tried really, really hard.

Blog: How Do We Make a Scatterplot?

I was going through a shoebox of stuff in my basement. I found a handful of paperbacks I'd started, some old stubs and statements and, underneath all that, some pages ripped from both spiral and composition notebooks. Most of them appeared to be random questions and answers to homework assignments from April, 2012 (not too bad), but with them was a lesson plan dated December 8, 2004, almost exactly 10 years ago. It was my first year teaching high school, and only my second full year teaching. I remember the students enjoyed the activity, but in my morning class and my afternoon class. However, I don't think I ever did it again. A few reasons I can think of -- I spent the next few years teaching Geometry, teaching Special Ed, and switching gears from Math A to Integrated Algebra. Every year, it seemed, the ninth grade curriculum was being rewritten or reordered. And, frankly, some groups of students were better than other when it came to activities (try to close an activity and bring the class together for a summary without half of them packing their bags!), and some times of the year lend themselves to this sort of thing more than others.

So, basically, this is the sheet of paper I kept. I'm sharing it with you and, thus, keeping it electronically, so I can throw this scrap away.

December 8, 2004

Aim: How do we make a scatterplot?

SWBAT make a graph comparing numbers of words spoken per second/minute.

Activity: Students will break into groups. Each will have a sports article. Their task is to take turns "auditioning" for a sports announcer job (like "Ron" on "G-Unit Radio")

Note: Ron was a school aide who did the morning announcements with a little bit of a flair, and he referred to it as "G-Unit Radio", the "G" for the school name and "Unit" for "Family" ... and having nothing at all to do with a similarly-named hip-hop group from Jamaica, Queens.)

Each article is marked off at 10-word intervals (for easier counting). One group member will be the timer, another the recorder. Students will take turns talking for 10, 15 20 and 30 seconds and then counting the words. After the data is recorded, data will be graphed.

Q: Is there a relationship between time and # of words?

HW: Finish the graph based on the data.
Work on December HW packet.

---

I remember when making groups, one of the keys decisions in grouping was how many of them had a watch. This was before everyone has a phone as well.

I also remember being told to come up with a Christmas vacation assignment. I hate those, and some of my students would be traveling (some outside the country) and did I really want them to bring books along? So I make a packet of HW for the month of December and told them it was due the day after the day we got back because everyone always forgets it the first day back. (Some of them were doing the entire packet the day we got back, which might explain we I haven't done that since.)

I hope you enjoyed my trip down memory lane. Try the activity yourself, and let me know how it works. FYI: I was in the middle of a free six-week trial subscription of Sports Illustrated, courtesy of whatever store I had started my Christmas shopping in, and I pulled an article from there. The sports pages work, too, especially if your school is listed in them!

Blog: Is It Still a Random Event If You Know It's Coming?

It's only the Third of December, and already there's a digression. That's why I love blogs: the very randomness about them. Randomness, probability, math. The circle of circles.

I have been bouncing around the New York City educational system for a few years now, and that's okay. I know that I'm wanted and there will be a soft landing somewhere. I figured that if I didn't get back to where I wanted to be in a reasonable amount of time, I'd find another suitable position. In the meantime, I'd be in the Absentee Teacher Reserve (ATR) pool. The downside to being in the pool is that you never know where you're next assignment will be: good neighborhood or bad, conveniently located or not. The upside? Well, no lesson plans, no mindless nights grading mindless papers writing meaningful comments, which likely wouldn't be read anyway. And I can most likely reset my alarm for a later time. Currently, I have a tendency to get to work an hour early to prep for a first period class because I don't wish to do all that work the night before when I could be sitting in front of the television, watching the insides of my eyelids.

A quick summary of the past few years: my school was shrinking because Bloomberg was trying to close it down despite its high grades on his own report card system. It stayed open but lost staff, including half the Math Department (which was three people, not counting the Support Services teachers). That event inspired this comic: Kiss Today Good-bye. After nearly a decade, I was leaving what felt like home.

That fall, I spent a month in Williamsburg at a small school that really didn't need any substitutes, and I mostly circulated the rooms, trying to help, which was easier to do when the subject was math. That was followed by a week at a school ten minutes from my home. At that point, a teacher at my old school retired, and I was on my way back. Things had changed a little. I had mostly freshmen, unlike the previous year, and the schedule was a little ... challenging. One could theorize that the classes were particularly rough because they wanted to encourage the former teacher to retire sooner. I think he had his plans set from the first day of school. It was a bit of a rough year, but I was promised a better horizons the following year ... and then I was excessed again.

My personal Year from Hell started in August. (I actually asked an A.P., who called to request an interview, if he had time the following day as I would be busy on the day he proposed, attending a funeral.) Professionally, it wasn't a bad year at all. I was called into Bed-Stuy, which sounded worse than it was, and spent a month there, watching them build the sets for The Knick, literally, right outside my window. Note: I am NOT misusing the word "literally". I have pictures. And Clive Owen even retweeted one of them! (Actually, it later turned out it was a FAN account, but I didn't know that at the time.)

This was followed by a few week in Park Slope, at my old zone school, which had been broken up years ago. Park Slope went through Yuppie-ville into Hipster Haven, but many of the kids traveled there from other areas. It wasn't an impressive place, and said to say that the teachers I worked with weren't fully versed in the topic they were teaching. I was able to nonchalantly correct a couple of things as if something was simply misspoken, but one thing in particularly was just so wrong, I kept my mouth shut. I figured that it was a tough topic and I could help individually with the students, but I couldn't undermine the teachers for the rest of the year. They weren't idiots, and I didn't want them to be thought of that way. (And I did explain their mistake later, during a prep period.)

Sometime in October, I got a call from a school in Staten Island. It would be a bit of a hike, and the Verrazano Narrows bridge has an incredibly expensive toll. (Not kidding -- even with a discount, it was costing me more than $10/day to get to work over one bridge.) It was supposed to be temporary, which worked out for me, because I knew that there was going to be an opening for me in Brooklyn at any given (i.e., random) moment. Except that there wasn't. For whatever reason that the teacher was on leave (I wasn't told; I never asked), she didn't come back. I was there until June, and I had settled in and had started to make friends. I attended a graduation dinner for a colleague, a summer barbecue. I even met a parent who I hadn't seen since we were both 13, some mumblemumble years ago.

At the end of the year, the AP asked me what was next. She didn't ask if I wanted to stay. maybe she assumed I wanted back in my old school ... or just my old borough on the other side of the bridge.

Which brings us back to randomness and inevitability. I went back to my old school during the summer for Regents Review classes, and subbing for a little spending money. One of my former colleagues was 8 months pregnant. She would be out on the first day of school. The AP of school organization started the paperwork to get me back on a temporary basis, and I was happy to go back. The only problem was that I hadn't a clue how long I would be back for. No one seemed to know how much time she would be taking. It was going to be six weeks plus whatever sick leave she had saved up (as far as I could guess) but I hadn't a clue how much that would be. Three months? A semester? Two marking periods, it turns out.

And here I am. Ready to leave again. Probably for the last time. I don't seem them -- at this moment -- turning things around. I don't see them expanding the student population, and with it, the budget. How long do I stay in the ATR pool? Sooner or later, I will have to find a position. Sooner or later, I will be subbing in a good school and I'll seek a position. (And maybe even regret not seeking last year's position again.) But in the meantime, I can count on two things:

A high probability of randomness, and an absolute certainly of zero lesson plans.