my take on ‘waiting for superman’

I’m too late, aren’t I? All the hype around public education has passed, hasn’t it? It got its 15 minutes with the documentary Waiting For Superman and Oprah’s two episodes in which she highlighted public education. And now? Well, the party’s over. But it shouldn’t be and here’s why.

Waiting For Superman (WFS) makes this claim: the American public education system is failing. The reasons for our fledgling system are many. WFS focuses in on a few: bad teachers, unions who get in the way of true reform and a system so mired in dysfunction that it seems unlikely to ever change.

I think WFS is right to say that good teachers can absolutely make a difference and bad teachers (of which there are many) can absolutely ruin a child’s life. I think WFS is right to show the world that unions have made it difficult (even impossible) to move conversations regarding educational reform forward. I think WFS is right to say that successful charter schools (of which there aren’t many) can and should be a laboratory for how education systems can work. There was much in WFS with which I agreed.

However, I did leave the theater disappointed for a couple of reasons. The documentary weaves in five narratives to bring the statistics to life. All five children are eager to find and get into schools that will enhance their lives. These five children have parents who care and who work hard to find and get their children into schools that will enhance their lives. The stories were moving, to say the least. What was not represented was the other type of student who causes mayhem in the classroom and could care less about his/her education. What was not represented was this student’s parents who simply do. not. give. a. damn. WFS failed to add this to their list of why the American public education system is failing: there are very, very few parents like the ones portrayed in the documentary. Many, like I said so plainly, simply don’t care.

STOP! Stop your train of thought and hear me out. I’m not offering up excuses and writing students in urban schools off as hopeless. So stop thinking that. (Please?) What I am saying is that what WFS is suggesting is even all the more important in light of the many, many bad parents out there: we need good teachers (master teachers!) who work their asses off for the sake of these students; we need unions to get out of the way so we can do anything and everything we can to reach these kids; and we need the system, at large, to accept reform so that, again, we can try anything and everything to move from failure to success.

Sure the five narratives in the film were compelling but how much more compelling could it have been to highlight a family who communicated their apathy toward education? The message could have been, “we must stop this trend, this particular circle of life, for the sake of humanity!”

The one other issue I had with WFS was that it left me with absolutely no hope for the American public education system. It pointed to charter schools as the answer and understandably so. Many have tried reform and been thwarted at every turn but as one who is in the biz and plans to stay in the biz for a long, long time, I needed some hope. WFS didn’t offer it…unless I go work for a charter school.

All in all, WFS is worth a look. I know, I know. It’s not near as fun to see the film now that all the hype has passed on but this is an issue that should stay in the headlines. With your involvement and care, maybe it can. Maybe, just maybe, we can turn this bus around. I know I’m gonna give it a go.

Filed under: education

the tie ceremony

Investment. Teach For America has taught me that part of the strategy for getting kids to learn is to get them invested in learning. This past Friday, my first Friday with my fifth grade class, I devised a plan to invest my kids in learning: the tie ceremony.

As I pounded away on my lesson plan on Thursday night I remembered what I was like on Fridays at school: useless. As a student, I knew early on that Friday meant the weekend was upon me. I remember not wanting to do much of anything at school on Fridays. But time is short in summer school and I needed these kids to give me their very best; hence, the tie ceremony.

I started my lesson on Friday by inviting the kids to the carpeted area of the room. I told them about Ira and about how some didn’t think Ira would make it. Some gave Ira very little chance of survival. But Ira fought hard and did, in fact, overcome. I told them all of this while showing them pictures of Ira and capped it off with a video of Ira as he is now. They were captivated.

I then told them that some people don’t really give them much of a chance. These people have seen their reading and math scores and have witnessed their behavior and have decided that these 5th graders don’t have a chance. I then leaned in and whispered, “But I know different. You have a brain that no one can take away from you. And I know that you are more than capable of proving these people wrong. But I need you guys to step it up today. I need you guys to get serious. You know what helps me get serious? Putting on this tie every morning. I just happened to bring a bunch of ties with me today. I’m wondering if you guys want to get serious about learning today so that you can prove all those people wrong out there who say you don’t have a chance.”

Some immediately raised their hands to receive a tie. Some couldn’t contain themselves and jumped up off the carpet begging for a tie. All of them were beside themselves. They so want to be taken seriously. And so each one of them, one by one, received a pre-knotted tie. After we tightened up the knot, they were instructed to turn to their peers and declare, “I’m ready to learn today.”

And they did.

These kids want nothing more than to be given a chance.

Filed under: education, hope, teaching

gears shifted

We’re officially in St. Louis – or, The Lou, if you’re cool. Laura and the kids arrived on Friday afternoon. I arrived on Saturday afternoon. And for the most part, we’ve settled in. Our beds are put together – hey, can i get an ‘amen’ for putting Ira and Sophia’s cheap IKEA bunk bed back together? – we’ve signed up for access to the city pool, and Sophia went to check out her new school.

Tonight, I begin a long summer of training with Teach For America. And I’m absolutely excited about it. But it was weird this past weekend to not have church responsibilities crowding my every thought. And it will be weird to meet new people tonight and over the next few weeks and speak about church ministry by using verbs in the past tense. I trained so long and hard to enter into the field of church ministry and now I’m not in it. I’m not sure how I feel about that but I can say that this past weekend, there was a gaping hole in my life. I’m praying the hole will be filled with this new endeavor and that it will be as equally fulfilling as church ministry was.

—–

Change is coming to my blog. My good friend, Kenny, is working on getting a new blog started for me so that CCFB can rightly claim this blog as their own. My new blog address will be…get ready for it…because the address will blow you away…ready?…okay, here goes:

joehays.wordpress.com

Wait, wait, wait. It’s not ready yet but it will be. Kenny’s swamped with work so it won’t happen for a while but I’m hoping that by announcing this over and over again, my mom and dad will catch on at some point. I think this is what those big dogs in DC call a preemptive strike.

—–

To officially inaugurate the new changes in my world, I give you this to consider and debate:

The term self-fulfilling prophesy, with regard to education, means that students perform in ways in which teachers expect. Their performance is based on subtle and sometimes not so subtle messages from teachers about students’ worth, intelligence, and capability.

Agree? Disagree?

Filed under: Blogging, CCfB, church, education, family, moving

dave ramsey gets it wrong, this time

If I started ranting and raving about the current state of the economy and the bail-out deal that fell through and, well, anything money related then I would be indulging in banter that is way over my head. My take on things would, indeed, qualify for the Modern Jacka**: Economy Edition.

And so that’s why I go to friends with silly questions like, “Now can you explain to me why we are borrowing millions upon millions of dollars to keep our war efforts going but seem to have $700 million stashed away for big money corporations to borrow from us?”

My friend, J, who works for Chase is great about fielding these questions and I can easily say to him in the midst of a conversation, “J, back up. You just used about five different terms that I don’t know. Explain yourself.” And he’ll patiently do so.

I have another friend, Brandon, who works for the New York Stock Exchange. He’s also incredible about helping Main St. folks understand the economic world. While he doesn’t blog that often, when he does, I pay attention. Recently, Brandon shared some specific insight on the current state of things. This will be interesting for those of you who follow Dave Ramsey. Check it out here.

Filed under: Blogging, education, friends, worry

the hugs

I took a Christian Education class during my undergraduate years. The purpose of the class was to explore Christian education in churches specifically focusing on elementary aged children. On the first day of class the professor inquired, “Of those of you who grew up going to church and who attended Sunday morning classes I’m curious what you remember about those classes and about that time.”

Almost all of us spoke of specific teachers that we either admired or loathed. The admired teachers were remembered not because of the incredible Bible stories they told or the fanciful magic they worked on felt boards but because of the hugs they gave.

A couple of weeks ago I asked Sophia, “What is your favorite part of church?” It didn’t take long for her to say, “class time.” I asked her why she liked class. “Because the teachers tell stories and stuff. And because they ask about me.” “What do you mean, ‘they ask about me?'” “They ask me about my family and about school and stuff like that.” In other words, she likes that her teachers take a genuine interest in her. In other words, she likes being loved on.

If you teach kids on Sunday mornings, remember that. Yes, the stories are important and the songs you sing are needed and the crafts are a must but in the end, the love you pass on is of most importance. It’s all about the hugs.

Thank you, teachers, for loving these kids.

Filed under: Bible, church, education, faith, Sophia

hurry up already

I’ve been without Laura and the kids for over a week now. In their absence, I’ve stayed busy with work and social engagements of all sorts. I’ve eaten with someone every day since I got back from Texas on July 12. There’s nothing like sitting across a spread of food with someone breaking down the meaning of life. I, along with a couple of others from CCFB, took some steps toward concretizing our dream of a tutoring center. I stayed up way too late watching a movie (kiss kiss bang bang) with some guy friends I rarely get to see. And then got suckered by those guys into taking a 50 mile bike ride up to Nyack, NY and back. (Yes, my bottom still hurts. Ouch!) I met up with Laura’s younger brother in Times Square. And okay, I’ll admit it, I played a little XBox while the fam was away.

Mostly, I just missed Laura, Sophia and Ira. Even in the midst of the business, I was well aware that I was not my complete self without my family nearby. I’ll be glad when that plane touches down today. It can’t come soon enough.

Filed under: CCfB, church, education, family, film, food, friends, gaming, home, Ira, Laura, movies, Sophia, sports, travel

broken and whole

The past two Wednesdays have found me touring potential schools for Ira. Last week, I visited a school in Manhattan and today I visited a school in Queens. Both schools specialize in special needs children. Both schools are fantastic. Both schools are far away from where we live. But that’s not the purpose of today’s post.

As I toured the school last week I was once again reminded of how broken this world is. I peeked into classrooms where teachers were working hard to get their students’ attention. Sure, this takes place in every elementary classroom across the globe but in special needs classrooms, the effort the teachers give seems greater. I watched kids in gym class with their physical therapists as they worked on the basic function of walking. In the most restrictive classrooms, adults practically outnumbered the kids.

With memories of last week’s tour still fresh on my mind, I walked through the halls of the Queens school today. Up and down the halls were kids in physical therapy sessions. In one class the entire room was dark save one spotlight that shone on a kid who stood at an easel. The darkened room was to eliminate any and all distractions. Other kids were in speech therapy learning their new computer talking program.

So we’re walking around this school today (me, other parents, the director of the school) and the brokenness begins to overwhelm me. These kids have seen, felt and heard too much in their little lives. It’s not supposed to be this way. They aren’t supposed to know this pain. They aren’t supposed to take on such incredible difficulties. They aren’t supposed to carry this much weight.

And as the anger begins to well up inside me at the unfairness of it all, at the “it doesn’t have to be this way” of it all, the Spirit moves in me and reminds me that I’m surrounded by those who are inheritors of the Kingdom of God. The Spirit reminds me that those scooting around me in the hall, those being wheeled around corners, those working on their walking skills, those touching the screen of their talking machines are the very ones that make up the Kingdom of God. The Spirit, taking on the role of instructor, nudges me and says, “Now look at this picture again. Who are the broken ones in this picture? Do you think you might have gotten this all wrong? Is it possible that you and these other fine parents are the broken ones and these kids are the whole ones?”

With this movement of the Spirit I begin to weep. And about the time that tears have made their way down my cheek, the director turns to us and asks, “Are there any questions?” She sees the tears and gives a simple nod. She doesn’t respond with an “Are you okay, Mr. Hays?” There was no “Can I get you a tissue?” No “Oh, there goes another one. Geez.” Just a simple nod as if to say, “Yeah, I hear you.”

Filed under: education, faith, God, hope, Ira, New York, school

a dream

You might remember me asking for your help on how to tutor a kid who doesn’t know their multiplication table. I’m happy to report that not only does she know her multiplication table but she’s made huge strides in several of her subjects. I’m confident that she’ll move on from the safe environment of elementary school and into the unsympathetic arms of middle school.

I’m sad to report, however, that the very tutoring center that gave her the extra push she needed to move to the next grade level is closing this month. You see, the city made budget cuts and community centers located in the middle of housing projects for low-income folks were the first items cut. That’s right, the community center is closing down; therefore, there is no more tutoring for these kids.

Which leads me to this, since coming here to Brooklyn, I’ve envisioned CCFB overseeing a tutoring program. I haven’t shared that dream with many folks and I do so here reluctantly knowing that it might never be a dream realized. But I thought that maybe if I blogged about it, you all might hold me accountable to search out the possibilities of this dream.

Here are the potential roadblocks hindering this dream:

1. CCFB owns no property. We rent out the cafeteria in a public school for our Sunday services. We have no physical space to meet in.
2. CCFB doesn’t have much money. We’re a small church and while we are seeing some numeric growth, it’s still not enough to sustain a tutoring center.
3. To make the tutoring center legit, there would be much work that would have to be done. I’m thinking insurance, rules, responsibilities, etc. In other words, a lot of work would have to go into this.
4. Finally, many of CCFB’s people don’t live in this neighborhood so they would support it from afar. They would not be able to give their physical time and energy to this dream.

A couple of these roadblocks are easy to remedy:

1. CCFB could rent a storefront near the housing projects – which, by the way, is just two blocks from where I live. There is always space to rent.
2. With the help of others, I’m up for this kind of challenge so the amount of work isn’t an issue.
3. The fourth roadblock wouldn’t be a problem either as tons of neighborhood folks want to give their time in this very rewarding way. I’m not advocating for a Christian tutoring program in which at the end of the day we all stand in a circle and pray. I just want to help the kids with their homework. I’m guessing a lot of my neighbors do as well.

So the only roadblock is money. hmm…

Filed under: Brooklyn, CCfB, church, education, hope, math, tutoring

Family Justice Center

I was honored to take part in a training seminar for faith leaders sponsored by the Family Justice Center. The seminar was called Domestic Violence 101. Why in the world would the city of New York expend their resources on faith leaders? According to their studies, the first line of defense for victims of domestic violence are NOT friends, family members, cops, lawyers, social workers, or therapists. The first person to hear the victim’s plea for help is most often a clergy-person.

The whole idea behind the training was to help us (the clergy) not mistake the situation for domestic misery when in fact, domestic violence is taking place. Often times, the victim also thinks they are simply miserable when in fact, they are victims of domestic abuse. The abuse comes in all shapes and sizes: physical, sexual, psychological, economic and yes, even spiritual.

The woman training us asked how many of us had spoken of domestic abuse from our pulpits, etc. Out of 30 of us, only one of us had. She then said that 1 in 4 families are currently dealing with domestic abuse of some sort. She went on to say, “I’m almost certain that someone in your congregation is suffering as a victim of domestic abuse.”

Filed under: church, education, faith