conferences

Oh, just the word strikes fear into the heart of many (particularly newbies like myself).  I teach sixth grade, so the parents typically have ten years on me, and boy, do they know it.  They look at me like I better get a clue because they know I don’t have one.  They like to challenge me for the fun of it.  After all, I wouldn’t be intimidated by a 15 year old, so why would they be intimidated by a 25 year old?

Not that parents even come in for conferences in a rational state of mind.  I firmly believe that parents are utterly ignorant and irrational when it comes to looking at their child objectively.  It’s just not a possiblity.  I understand (well, not really), when they are yours, it’s different.   They are a piece of you and you just don’t want to see them in a negative light.  I get that, but give me some credit.  I’ve dedicated my life to the education of children, and I didn’t do it for the money.  I’m a nice, rational person, with some insight into your child’s academic and social progress.  I will do what it takes to help them, and I just want a little respect.

Tonight, I have conferences.  I’m waiting for the first one, due in 7 minutes, although I doubt she’ll show, seeing as how her daughter informed me (right before leaving school) that her mom was getting married today at 5:30.  Interestingly enough, her conference is at 5:15pm, so I’m doubting that she will be showing up in her wedding dress.  Conferences are always like this (not the marrying part), you expect one thing, and you get something completely different.  Sometimes it’s as simple as expecting a booked night only to have a bunch of no shows.  Sometimes it’s expecting a mean parent, only to have them cry.  Sometimes it’s expecting a nice parent, only to get a quick jab (verbal, of course).  It’s a little disconcerting, but I’m beginning to learn not to be nervous.  When I’m nervous nothing happens, it’s only when I least expect it that I get a surprise… you know the kind.

So, on to my fourth year of conferences and yet another night of surprises.

the nobel prize for education

Who can deny that education is the heart of society? We all need it to live. Whether or not you have been “schooled” is a different story, but education, we all need that. We watch as our parents make dinner, or make faces, or make sense of things and we learn through each experience. We are defined by our experiences, many of which, in our early years are spent learning who we are, what to do, and how the world works. It’s different for all of us, but it is truly the definition of our lives. I like to think that many classrooms across the country greatly contribute to this wonderful experiential existence. I know this is most likely untrue, but I still have some idealism in me. So, why then, isn’t there a nobel prize for education?

The nobel prize is awarded in many important fields including physics, chemistry, medicine, literature, and peace, but not education. I suppose education could fall under peace, but I’m not sure peace can be on a small scale (like classroom-sized). Think about it though, educators work wonders by creating a peaceful environment, one of safety in risk taking (the good kind) and cooperating with others who care what you think. This is no small task. I know many a business person who could benefit from a day or two in the classroom trying to manage children in a peaceful way. Alas, let’s not even try to cram education into one of the noble nobel categories (ha). It could be one of its own anyway. Education has been victimized as a soft science and I believe that univerities all over the country have established that as the status quo. Why isn’t educational philosophy as challenging as organic chemistry? Shouldn’t it be more difficult, with its multifaceted applications and nuances? Why don’t education majors face a weed out course? There were many students in my classes who should’ve been weeded out. The school of education can’t be too tough, in my opinion, because the students are going into a profession that doesn’t pay. If it doesn’t pay, sometimes you get well intentioned dummies (very unteacherly of me) that care, but don’t have a clue. If it doesn’t pay, you can’t expect many brilliant people to work for peanuts when they see a debt-free light at the end of the collegiate tunnel. It’s a shame, but it’s the truth. Fortunately, I grew up with little and therefore had a very short adjustment period to making little. I still have hopes of marrying rich, but I’m not counting on the nobel prize.

This week Edmund Phelps was awarded the nobel prize in economics. It had something to do with inflation and unemployment. I’m sure it makes sense to him and many other economists, but seriously, what’s more important than a break-through in the field of education? What if we could get local funding all figured out? That would be prize-worthy. What if someone used their creativity in the classroom to change a child’s life? What if someone discovered a way to equalize the playing field so that socio-economic status didn’t matter so much? The funny thing is, at least with the last two questions, is that I believe teachers do that every day. How do you then bottle that up and mark it with a p (for prize)? You really can’t. The best teachers are hidden in every school, working miracles every day and there’s no prize money ($1.37 million to be exact) or international recognition awaiting them. Most of the time they are only awarded with heavy workloads and ungrateful parents. Sometimes they get a smile and a hug, and that keeps them going. I don’t know a profession that deserves the nobel prize more, but will continue on without it.

Hello world!

This is exciting!  Stay tuned…