You think that? You believe that? Why don't you share that?

One portion of a dogwood blossomed white flowers. Medical students hustled from building to building in short-sleeved scrubs. The streets were without traffic

The University of Pennsylvania's campus is entangled in enduring evidence of Old Philadelphia and the glossy steel and glass of new medicine. Brick and mortar facades, dark and soft-edged, lay in the shadows of new construction racing the sun to the apex of the sky.

On the second floor of the nineteenth century constructed Houston Hall, we met in a room named for Benjamin Franklin.

No one forced the teachers to be here yesterday. No one paid us to go.

The currency, the bartering chip, was in the writing, the reflection, the sharing...the conversation we made.

Teachers from the Philadelphia public schools and the surrounding region met to share and write their stories. We are makers, and in the act of exposing reality, transforming reflection, and challenging the status quo we invest more in ourselves and our profession than any promise of salary.

The message yesterday was that teachers must share their stories.

The voice of education is the least heard, the last asked for. Don't wait to be asked. As keynote speaker, Meeno Rami said, "You think that? You believe that? Why don't you share that?"

To my teacher friends, the public dialogue about education is already happening...with or without you. Take part in it. Share the good news. Share a lesson. But write it down so that it lives on and becomes a part of the public record.

If we do not share our truths then those who do not know will make up their own truths about us.

And for many, that may be the only truth they ever read or know...so then it must be true.

Associate professor Dr. Luke Rodesiler found me through my online writing--through my willingness to share my story, my successes, my failures. Dr. Rodesiler travelled the country to meet with five educators who he found doing similar things online: me, Meeno Rami, Gary Anderson, Cindy Minnich, and Sarah Andersen. Together, we used the research and our experiences to collaborate on an article that we will be published in the July issue of English Journal: Transforming Professional Lives Through Online Participation. We also have the same material submitted to NCTE as a proposal for presentation at next year's conference.

None of that would have happened for any of us if we were not sharing our story. The payoff isn't in royalties. The payoff is in the seeds planted by writing. As Rami suggested yesterday, the act of writing, the act of reflection more specifically, "is an act of self-care."

Care for ourselves individually, yes, but even more importantly, care for our profession.

Credit: shootingthescript.wordpress.com

Tell our story. Share your story. Plant the seeds that will positively alter public perception.

Tell the good stuff. Celebrate who you are and what you do. Celebrate your colleagues.

If we can come together on this, it will have a far-reaching impact on the perception of education. Otherwise, Arne Duncan, Bill Gates, Michelle Rhee...M. Night Shamalan (of all people, a mediocre film director has a voice in education and maybe you do not...are we now sharing the same angst?) will continue to thrust a skewed, false story into the eyes and ears of the public.

Tell our story. Share your story.

Every one counts.

The Spikes and Plummets of Reading

Mother Reading to Child. Artist Unknown.

"The story the data tell is simple, consistent, and alarming. Although there has been measurable progress in recent years in reading ability at the elementary school levels, all progress appears to halt as children enter their teenage years." --Dana Goia, "To Read or Not to Read: a Question of National Importance," 2007.

I saw that slide at Penny Kittle's workshop on Monday. As one who teaches at the entrance to their teenage years, I have three experiences that match this point.

1. For the first third of my teaching career I did not require, model, or engage students in reading self-selected texts. I did not promote books or do anything out of the scope and sequence of the curriculum. I used to say, "kids don't read anymore." I used to scratch my head and wonder why kids didn't read much. It was the rare student who walked the halls or into my room with a favorite novel under an arm. 
2. Then, for a span of close to five years I required, modeled, and worked at engaging students with reading self-selected texts. They still read the books rooted in the curriculum in addition to their own, but I saw more readers. I even tracked their reading as I tracked my own. We talked more about books instead of tested on them. When we wrote about books, it was about the changes we saw in ourselves, what we were thinking about, what gnawed at us, what we will take from the book.
3. This year, taught August and September as I had been, but then I allowed some criticism and questions about grammar (of all things) to derail me--even though I had been working on it through their writing based on the research and models by educators like Constance Weaver, Jeff Anderson, Michael Smith, and Harry Noden. My bookkeeping on student reading was set aside to create more opportunities for grammar. I stole reading time from the classroom for more direct instruction in the textbook. In other words, I fell back into the habits I worked so hard to change because I changed them for the right reasons. While I do have some readers this year, I do not have kids reading at the incredible rates of the previous four years. Additionally, kids are asking me if they have to finish the class novels...I can't recall ever being asked that question...and that falls in line with the traditional student experience with school reading: Cliff's Notes, Sparknotes, or wing it. Kids can get by in school without reading the books--you know that, right?

So what happened to me? 

I let a small, but intense field of criticism and questioning of what is taught become entangled with how everything is taught. I second-guessed myself and reverted to teaching with curb appeal.  But I have to know better. I have to remember that not everyone reads the research or spends their weekends driving across the state to writing workshops to hear what is current in education. I have to be bigger than the test and I have to recognize that when kids are writing and reading in my class and it does not feel or look like a chore that that is good.

My experience shows me that we truly do get what we emphasize.

Even though the scores that our kids will generate on the state tests will be through the roof, it doesn't excuse my going back on my principles and slipping back from what the research says.

Our schools push the idea that all kids should have a common experience in the classroom irrespective of what classroom they are in. This does little but confuse me. If Teacher A and Teacher B each teach nouns and verbs, but with two polar opposite approaches, is that a common experience? If Teacher A drills it with traditional methods and Teacher B does not, is that a common experience?

If a student switches from Teacher A's class to Teacher B's class and it looks nothing like their previous class, is that a common experience? What if Teachers B asks the student to do different things with the verbs? Is that common?

I let all of this get into my head this year and have been beating myself up over it for the past month--actually, since our state tests started.

All I can do is teach like my hair is on fire these last few months and give these kids the best of what they deserve--because the alternative of not modelling reading and engaging kids in reading is too costly.

I don't care how smart the tests say they are.

Celebrating the Quiet Mentors: PAWLP

Meeno Rami's Thrive: 5 Ways to (Re)Invigorate Your Teaching uses the term "quiet mentors" and she reminds us that mentors are everywhere in our lives.

In the text, Rami suggests looking for those who are passionate about their work, enjoy their job, whose students trust them, whose students are engaged, who is most willing to share, who is doing something which interests you but you know nothing about, who has a quality you would like to develop in yourself...and so on.

And I thought, my gosh, I know those people. To honor them, I having been blogging all this week about all of the quiet mentors in my life.

Photo swiped from the PAWLP Facebook page.

Quiet Mentor #5: PAWLP
PAWLP stands for the Pennsylvania Writing & Literature Project--our local satellite of the National Writing Project. It took me 15 years to find and join this professional network even though it has always been there--at least since I have been teaching.

I am counting PAWLP as a quiet mentor because unless a teacher knows about it, he/she won't talk about it or connect with it.

I wish more of my colleagues across the curriculum, district-wide, engaged with the writing project.

The writing project was my gateway back into what the research says about adolescents, reading, writing, grammar, collaboration, the brain, the differences between how a boy learns and how a girl learns, and so many evocative topics. It was my gateway back to Nanci Atwell and Don Graves. It was my gateway into Kelly Gallagher, Don Murray, Ralph Fletcher, Penny Kittle, et al.

The list of folks writing, researching, and living education is vast and in my twenty years as a teacher the only times I discussed them has been at the writing project with my writing project colleagues across the county.

Frustrating.

Remember when you were in undergraduate school or graduate school and training to become a teacher? We read and discussed so much about how kids learn, approaches to literacy, classroom management, etc. It has been eye-opening to step back 15 years later--read the research--and reconsider my classroom.

Even though the research is still accessible and fresh and illuminating...we rarely discuss it. We rarely build curriculum around it. We rarely make decisions in our state around it.

When was the last time you met as a staff, and before making a decision in a committee, did someone ask, "what does the research say?"

And you actually pulled it out, or pulled out an article or (better yet) a book that carefully walked you through the possibilities?

For example, how many of us has read or even just considered on its most simple level, Maja Wilson's Rethinking Rubrics? Yet, how many of us use rubrics in math, social studies, science...

We roll rubrics out there and trust in them...blindly. I guarantee you--read Wilson's book and you will never look at rubrics the same way again.

Yet, why is the research and why are the writers and thinkers about education more than an arm's length away from most teachers?

When I speak with colleagues across the country, I encounter responses similar to what I heard from a pair of teachers from Toms River, NJ at Penny Kittle's workshop on Monday--"we've learned the research, but our schools don't let us act on it."

It is the same reason why our current generation of teachers writhe in their skin when the statement, "I don't teach curriculum, I teach kids" is trumpeted in a meeting room.

How do we measure that? How do we demonstrate evidence to our school board? How will that bear out in the test scores?

We bow to the numbers, and the truth is the numbers do not tell us a damn thing about our kids. We have a false sense of test scores and what we truly know. The numbers are hollow.

We have to be careful with how much we dance and parade about the numbers.

Short of saying to hell with test scores, my quiet mentors have something in common. They do indeed teach the child. They know that formative assessments beat high-stakes summative assessments in any world.

Among the greatest habits my colleagues at PAWLP have demonstrated is that conferring with kids about their reading and writing is the most important gift we can bring to their lives: teach the writer, not the writing; teach the reader, not the reading.

I'll end with a quick anecdote about the current state of educational leadership in school districts across the nation. I had the good fortune to sit with some leaders at a conference last summer when the topic of becoming affiliated with a local writing project came up. One school leader sneered and said, "I don't know. I've read Lucy Calkins...she's a little too idealistic for real education."

Teaching is a battle. And it isn't a battle against the kids or the families. It is a battle of convenient perception versus immeasurable reality

I thank PAWLP, and more specifically Mary, along with my class of PAWLP Fellows who went through the Writing Workshop with me several years ago: Ben, Tricia, Bobbi, Brittany, et al.

PAWLP opened the doors to my classroom and then it opened my mind. PAWLP made me a better reader and it made think of myself as a writer.

I write because of PAWLP.

I read more because of PAWLP.

I climb in my car and drive to conferences and workshops--to hear other teachers--to learn--to be exposed to new ideas and to be reminded of tried and true methods because of PAWLP.

And, most importantly, I talk to the kids I teach more because of PAWLP.

You can't measure that.

Celebrating the Quiet Mentors: Jenny

Meeno Rami's Thrive: 5 Ways to (Re)Invigorate Your Teaching uses the term "quiet mentors" and she reminds us that mentors are everywhere in our lives.

In the text, Rami suggests looking for those who are passionate about their work, enjoy their job, whose students trust them, whose students are engaged, who is most willing to share, who is doing something which interests you but you know nothing about, who has a quality you would like to develop in yourself...and so on.

And I thought, my gosh, I know those people. To honor them, I having been blogging all this week about all of the quiet mentors in my life.

Quiet Mentor #4: Jenny
All across the country, school libraries are being closed. Last year, in Chicago alone, 160 school libraries were closed.

Jenny volunteers and collects books for the West Philadelphia Alliance for Children's school libraries (WePac). She buys and gathers donations. She lugs box after box down to the elementary schools identified by WePac and helps them clean and rebuild their libraries.

On the WePac website it says, "...launched in September 2009 at two schools, [WePac] now provides more than 3,100 students in 11 struggling schools and neighborhoods with access to a school library.

I stopped by Jenny's room today to pick her brain about her volunteer work. Among stacks of new books on her desk, she said, "I'm going to go down during my Spring Break and volunteer, or maybe on my birthday."

In addition to hauling boxes of books to underfunded schools over 40 miles away from our school, Jenny also floods her classroom with books.

As a colleague of ours, John, said last week, "I was in her room and everywhere I looked, it was books. I couldn't believe it. And the culture of reading--you can really see it in the kids. They would get up find another book, sit down, and read. They all had books in their hands."

What I honor most in Jenny is that kids who go through her classroom are engaged in reading. It is much more than simple compliance. Her kids cultivate reading lives. As Penny Kittle said in our workshop yesterday, "giving kids access to books in your class is their bridge to a library."

Additionally, it was because of Jenny's classroom library that I was inspired several years to start building my own. Similar to John's experience, I remember sitting in her room for a workshop, among all of those books, and I asked myself what the heck I had been waiting for all those years.

My room, as a student teacher of mine once pointed out, resembled a penitentiary.

I learned at the February SCBWI conference in February that the publishing industry lost 60-70% of its shelf space with the closing of Borders and many independent book stores over the last decade. When we factor in the current pace of the closing of school libraries, few remedies exist to get books into the hands of kids.

A teacher's classroom library becomes critical.

And quiet mentors, like Jenny, who not only cultivate the reading lives of kids but who also inspire colleagues  to change become just as critical.

Quite simply, Jenny's example helped reframe my career...and classroom.

Celebrating the Quiet Mentors: Books

Meeno Rami's Thrive: 5 Ways to (Re)Invigorate Your Teaching uses the term "quiet mentors" and she reminds us that mentors are everywhere in our lives.

In the text, Rami suggests looking for those who are passionate about their work, enjoy their job, whose students trust them, whose students are engaged, who is most willing to share, who is doing something which interests you but you know nothing about, who has a quality you would like to develop in yourself...and so on.

And I thought, my gosh, I know those people. To honor them, I having been blogging all this week about all of the quiet mentors in my life.

Quiet Mentor #3: Books

On the one hand, books have introduced me to quiet mentors.

For instance, they have introduced me to educator Penny Kittle.

On the other hand, the books themselves could be considered quiet mentors because I interact with them and not the individuals who wrote them: I post-it and highlight; I scrawl in their margins; and I write in my journal and in my blog about the things they say that lights a fire under my skin.

In either case, my quiet mentors make me think about who I am and about who I want to become.

While I never had the pleasure of shaking hands with most in my army of quiet mentors, their books add fuel to what has already been ignited within me: Don Murray, Don Graves, Ralph Fletcher, Carol Jago, Nanci Atwell, Kelly Gallagher, Penny Kittle, Katie Wood Ray, Tom Romano, Thomas Newkirk, Donalyn Miller, Michael Smith, Randy Bomer, Katherine Bomer, Troy Hicks, Jeremy Hyler, Meeno Rami, Jeff Anderson, Lynne Dorfman...all bear the torches that entered my life over the last five years since I became an active Fellow with the Pennsylvania Writing and Literature Project.

Penny Kittle and me!

My quiet mentors of literacy know each other and, through me, have often been in the same room together. I read their words. I reflect. I smother the teacher I have been, rekindle the teacher I am going to be, and defend the reflective teacher I have become.

Today a quiet mentor came to life for me. I had the good fortune to attend Penny Kittle’s Book Love presentation today in Philadelphia.


In a general sense, being in the same room--live and in color--with one of my quiet mentors made me reflect that books are indeed guiding my practice. As I wrote yesterday, something about each of my mentors is something I want to absorb into my bloodstream. I want the habits, practice, and sensibilities scorched into my bones. My quiet mentors showed me what the research says, opened their classrooms to me, and demonstrated that engaging students begins with our attitudes about reading and writing. It is why I go back to those books, go back to my post-its, go back to the highlights.

I have been slipping this year. I’ve let various elements distract me: the weather, the altered schedule, the standardized test blitz, and separate district discussions over grammar and technology. Some of my colleagues and I have noted that it has been so hard to get into any rhythm. And each distraction makes me doubt the value of what I do. I fear that my kids may not as engaged with reading and writing as some of my most recent years.

They don’t check out as many library books.

Their writer’s notebook isn't as full.

Kittle said, “Without engagement, change won’t take place. Compliance is not enough.”

So, I go back to my quiet mentors so that I can make positive changes and engage the kids in my room. My quiet mentors transform the intention of my teaching even as the dark horizons of self-doubt linger. This self-doubt permeates my skin and extinguishes what has been fueling some transformative experiences in the classroom...which leads to my second-guessing myself.

Sometimes I want to write that the stress of providing common classroom experiences, responsibilities to the Great God Testing, and the disconnected decisions made for the hope of an sanitized ideal of a student and not for the actual, flawed human beings we teach.

Penny Kittle delivered five words that cut me, “I teach kids, not curriculum.” Gosh, that one hurts to reflect on, because I don’t always teach kids. Admittedly, I teach curriculum. I teach curriculum a lot. And, as a staff. we talk about curriculum more than we talk about kids. Or kids as readers and writers.

And there is an enormous difference.

Yet, my quiet mentors remain steadfast. They convince me again and again that conferring is the single most significant change that came to my classroom five years ago. My quiet mentors convince me to read and write with my kids. They instruct me that immersing kids in great books and allowing kids to share in the choice of what they read matters.

Kittle added, “Everything we want to teach will start with how much they are reading.”

And that starts with me.

And my relationship with my quiet mentors.

Great workshop today, Penny. It was a pleasure to meet you!

Celebrating the Quiet Mentors: John

On Friday, I read Meeno Rami's book Thrive: 5 Ways to (Re)Invigorate Your Teaching and connected with her chapter on mentors. Rami uses the term quiet mentors and reminds us that mentors are all over. They are in many different parts of our lives--and we can have more than one. 

We can make that choice to surround ourselves with people who are good for us.

In the text, Rami suggests looking for those who are passionate about their work, enjoy their job, whose students trust them, whose students are engaged, who is most willing to share, who is doing something which interests you but you know nothing about, who has a quality you would like to develop in yourself...and so on.

And I thought, my gosh, I know those people. To honor them, I am going to blog for a week about all of the quiet mentors in my life.

Quiet Mentor #2: John

There must be a dozen Johns in our building because I always see him. He is everywhere. Before school, during school, after school, on the weekends. He says yes. Or, I can help you. Or I will do that.

What I love is that John has exceeded his assignment in our building.



He isn't a teacher, or an IT professional, or a coach, or a committee member (several times over), or a volunteer, or a liason. He is all of those things yet none of those things define him best. I mean, there are a lot of teachers, IT professionals, coaches, committee members, volunteers, and liasons in education.

What I recognize in John, and try like hell to infuse into my bloodstream, is benevolence and dedication.

In a position where everyone needs help (technology), Josh is patient. He is so patient with all of us. We all see him in someone else's room, troubleshooting or teaching. He is a walking, breathing example of professional development. Every time we need him for something we learn something.

And it is John's way that erases the label or teacher, or IT support, or coach...

It is John's way to show up. He attends so much. I live about 15 minutes from school and do not attend 1/4 of the events that John attends. And he lives upwards of 1 hour and 30 minutes away.

It is also John's way to neither make excuses why he can't do something nor look for compensation before agreeing to do something. He is the antithesis of a "paycheck coach" or a "paycheck teacher."

He never clocks in and never clocks out. There is no clock in John's world. In his mind, there is only our personal responsibility to be the best educators we can be. And if that is true, then there can be no time clock placed on being an educator. You can't write a check large enough to place a value on that attitude or that practice. John reminds me that this is not a profession, but a vocation.

John will never pout about salary or fold his arms coldly across his chest, refusing to do something. He will never tell someone they are not doing enough--kid or adult. He just quietly leads by example. And does, and does, and does. And always says yes.

Benevolence and dedication: what John values is bigger than a check.

So often, he is sharing his experiences from conferences, workshops, and EdCamps. John goes to things. And he has three kids and a wife and volunteers at summer camp and helps at anything his own kids are involved in.

He never complains about not having enough hours. John has the same amount of hours as the rest of us, yet...

Benevolence and dedication.

As a matter of fact, when John started our school's television station he did it alone. I remember when he had the idea almost twenty years ago. He was so excited and told everyone about the idea and solicited feedback--did we think it could work? Not only does HawkTV work, but he trains the kids so well that they run it without him. When John is gone for the day, the kids run the station.

I remember John just showing up early on Saturday mornings to help me build sets for the school play. He had two of his children with him (Ryan and Elizabeth) and he would do whatever needed getting done: painting, lighting, sound...whatever. He was there to help.

He still is.

Yesterday he drove an hour and a half on a Saturday morning to DJ at our school's fundraiser, the 5K I wrote about yesterday.

No one is writing John a check for these things, and he would balk at the suggestion.

I do indeed see more in John than teacher, IT support, coach, committee member...

I see educator.

I see mentor.





John, thank you for an example that reminds me and inspires me that we all have to keep working at it, often on our own dime and often on our own time.

Celebrating the Quiet Mentors: Marcia

On Friday, I read Meeno Rami's book Thrive: 5 Ways to (Re)Invigorate Your Teaching and connected with her chapter on mentors. Rami uses the term quiet mentors and reminds us that mentors are all over. They are in many different parts of our lives--and we can have more than one. 

We can make that choice to surround ourselves with people who are good for us.

In the text, Rami suggests looking for those who are passionate about their work, enjoy their job, whose students trust them, whose students are engaged, who is most willing to share, who is doing something which interests you but you know nothing about, who has a quality you would like to develop in yourself...and so on.

And I thought, my gosh, I know those people. To honor them, I am going to blog for a week about all of the quiet mentors in my life.

Clockwise from top: Marcia, me, and 

photo-bombing friends Avery, & Stacy

Quiet Mentor #1: Marcia

Five years ago, our colleague, Marcia, used her club period to help a group of middle school students organize the Unionville Run for Our Sons 5K to benefit the Parent Project Muscular Dystrophy in honor of Elliot and Henry Johnson.

The club has continued for five years and Marcia always credits the kids in that club.

The 5K is pretty much run by the Johnson family today, but those closest to Marcia know just how much work she has done (continues to do) and how much of the pressure she still absorbs. She loves the cause and she loves that kids brought her to the cause.

But it wasn't always smooth, and nobody handed Marcia anything to get it started. My first exposure to Run for Our Sons outside of school was at an away high school football game. Marcia met the kids from her club to our away game at West Chester Rustin. The kids were there collecting money for the cause and Marcia was there supporting them. She ended up sitting next to me in the coaches box throughout the game because her club was there to spread the word and solicit support. That was 5 years ago when the club was just starting.

With well over 600 runners participating each year, Run for Our Sons has raised over $160,000. This year's total raised is just under $43,000.

What makes this even more remarkable to me is that clubs in our building is a never-ending taffy pull with no good, final answer. Clubs has been a source of anxiety and frustration for all of us. Administrators, teachers leaders, and even the kids, have all weighed-in on what our club period should look like over the years...and we often end up in the same place.

We don't know what to sponsor that will engage the kids...at the same time, there is always a very clear, loud presence cautioning the staff that clubs can't become another prep period for us.

I have to tell you, no matter what you are doing with kids, you have to prepare. When you work with kids, there is no "time off."

I admire Marcia for working her tail off to make her club work.

Honestly, I have been the leader of some unsuccessful clubs and some mildly successful clubs. Often, the clubs that fail are those that do not engage the kids. The kids lose interest and focus and start asking for passes to visit teachers. Sometimes they take their time in getting to clubs. Sometimes they just go into the room they want to be in to just hang out with friends.

And teachers spend a lot of time tracking these kids down.

So, clubs can often devolve into hangouts or lounges which require minimal effort from the teacher. We become lion tamers. Just keep the kids at bay and safe--the day is almost over--get them on the bus. Enjoy the weekend.

My most recent club devolved from "Writing and Reading" into a lounge. Initially, kids interested in sharing their writing or sharing good books with one another signed up. But then, new kids (who didn't like their old club were allowed to leave and choose another) arrive. They aren't really interested in writing or reading, as it is the last half hour on a Friday. And so the whole climate of the group changes. And now we are a lounge.

Clubs change next Friday. We all have new ones--all teacher-generated.

I'm trying a SCUBA club. My close friends own a dive shop and certify new divers all the time. Brainstorming with Jeff, he agreed to Skype into my club to help the kids learn about diving and work through the three phases of earning their certification. The first step is taking the online test for which he is agreeing to help prepare them. He has also offered to setup the second and third phases--diver training in a pool and the certification test in a pool--if I end up with enough kids or families who want to see this process all the way through to the end.

Yet, I know the club could still be a flop.

All of which makes me appreciate what Marcia has been able to pull off for each of the last five years. Her clubs are now always Run for our Sons and the kids who get involved always do a great job.

We know this because we see it.

And because Marcia gives the kids all the credit.

You are a quiet mentor of mine, Marcia. Thank you.

Keep doing what you're doing.

Playing School

The 3rd Marking Period ended Friday. Which means the 4th Marking Period begins on Monday.  As I looked at the calendar and my plans today, numbers started to rise off the page.

I had to start scrawling them down...

50: days remaining in school before our 8th grade students take final exams.

48: percentage of remaining uninterrupted classroom days that kids will be tested, quizzed, or assessed beyond the state testing and finals; this does not account for assessments in foreign language, art, music, etc.

31: uninterrupted classroom days (62% of our days in school will be spent in a teaching environment)





30: assessments awaiting students in core classes (consider that each of the five core courses is required a minimum of 6 grades per marking period; this does not account for assessments in foreign language, art, music, etc.)

26: days kids will be tested or assessed if we apply the theory that teachers will be careful to not schedule more than two graded assessments per day (52%); however, the reality is kids will have some work piled up on individual days

19: interrupted classroom days (38%) due to mandated testing, days off, etc.

19: percentage of remaining uninterrupted classroom days that teachers will need to apply an assessment

17: total tests (mandated and our finals) taken in addition to daily coursework

12: mandated tests

11: days of mandated testing (22%)

10: rough estimate of days before the final exams when students will receive study guides

6: minimum number of assessments each course must account for each marking period

5: final exams

3: days of final exams

3: mandated reading tests

3: mandated mathematics tests

2: mandated science tests

2: mandated writing tests

2: (additional) mandated math tests

Is it just me, or has our country pretty much ensured that we are working harder at "playing school" than working towards inspiring creativity, growth, and life-long learners?

Is this what made us fall in love with teaching?

Or made us fall in love with learning?

Or in love with science?

Or reading?