5-30-08 - Violence, the New Heroin

Last night I couldn’t sleep and managed to flip through about two hundred and fifty channels to surprisingly find that there was “nothing on TV.”  Of course I remembered the “good ole days” back in rural southern Arkansas that if the antenna was turned just right we could watch three channels, although one was a bit fuzzy.  In a last attempt to fight sleep I turned on “On Demand” station to look for a funny movie.  Immediately I found a preview of an old Scooby Doo cartoon that was running on one of the kid categories. Ok I admit it, I am forty-something years old and I am a Scooby Doo addict! 

 

I laughed and flipped over to find a nice array of old cartoons that we were forced to get up at dawn to watch on Saturday mornings when I was a kid.  Now this was a particularly good episode… the one about the “green ghosts” which was one of the early ones before that annoying Scrappy Doo joined the crew and all the chase scenes featured that goovy background music that only a LSD addict could appreciate.  As I turned out the light, and carefully checking under my bed for green ghosts… I thought Tim (my best friend growing up) and I would have been in hog heaven if we would have watched our favorite cartoons anytime we wanted… ok I admit this was before in invent of VCRs.

 

Today kids have it quite different.  The last time I forced myself up early enough to checkthere is nothing fun any more about Saturday mornings!  There was just a bunch a strange looking Japanese characters and darn if I could figure out which ones were the good guys??   Of course these kiddos have all sorts of technology to keep them entertained throughout the day.  As previously mentioned the new teenage binky is the cell phone. I just bought one that not only shows me the name of who is calling me, but I can play games, MP3s, watch TV or movies, beeps at me when I am late and tells me exactly where the rush hour traffic is backed up.   And when I don’t feel like talking, I can use a needle-head size keyboard to type messages to my friends.  “Who would have thunk it”? 

 

When they are not attached to their phones or I-Pods, you can usually find most kids behind a computer screen playing games.  Now I am guilty as the next one about wasting my life with these silly games but a teenager recently told me that I wasn’t playing “real” games.  What has mesmerized this generation isn’t your simple game of Texas Hold Em, but cyber worlds which transforms them into characters in virtual realities. One of this teenager's favorite games is named, War Craft where you can assume the avatar (virtual character) of demonic beings that would terrify John Milton.  Because of my age I temporarily forgot the name of this game and searched online where I found titles such as Assain, Drug Runner, and of course Grand Theft Auto.   Now the last title, in which has the characters shoot policemen, spurred another named “Cop Killer” where gamers shoot police and use civilians as “human shields.”  Anyone else have a concern here? 

 

Now I am not saying that all video games are evil, heck I wish I were smart enough to be winner of Guitar Hero.  However, we have now lost the battle over violent music and we have moved into the arena of shielding our kids from a violent alternative reality.  Given their continual diet of cyber blood, is it any wonder that our children have become more violent?  Before I left school Friday, we informed our brothers and sisters in blue about a planned fight in a kids back yard in which they are going to charge $2 admission and post it on “YouTube.com” with all the other teenage fights and nonsense.  We had a fight on campus last week, and before we could get the fighters to the office it had be taped via cell phone and emailed to seven kids! 

 

I am ranting about all of this because I am terrified that we are raising a generation of kids with NO EMPATHY!  Every evening before bedtime they have witnessed not only their own schoolyard fights, but also violence from schoolyards across the country via the Internet.  And if our kids can't get their fix of violence that way, they can always jump into some virtual world and kill a couple of cops or innocent by-standards without ever turning on those TV shows with the new parental warnings.  Is it any wonder that we are seeing an increase in not only gang violence but also juvenile crime in general?  Our society is teaching kids to deny empathy because that cyber person you just murdered is not real.  Personally I think this is why our kids find it so interesting to upload their own violent acts on the Internet… they have associated themselves with the “painless” cyber world where there are no broken bones, no grieving families or kids left without fathers to play ball with them. 

 

Have we bred a generation of cyborgs without feelings or emotion?  This year I have been simply appalled at the students who have no sense of remorse after they are suspended for fighting on campus.  Perhaps it is time to use the 1st Amendment for it’s intended purpose and “CENSOR” what we are feeding our children.  And, for all of you that reply "Parents should make these decisions." The problem with that logic, is the ones that need to protect their children... won't do it!  So, the rest of us live in fear of the actions of the bad apples on this new heroin.  Note to self, when they begin building arenas so that they can watch the lions eat Christians… move to Mars.

5-24-08 - Hollywood Prom

Now when I was in high school if the kids decided they wanted to do a vintage Hollywood theme, we would carefully cut out shapes from cardboard and decorate the gym with the nicest forms of plastic and corrugated backdrops we could find. I remember lovingly attaching streamers to the ceiling with double stick tape and prayed that it held until after the event. Today is quite different. When the kids say they want a vintage Hollywood prom, we book the Roosevelt Hotel and peek around corners looking for the ghost of Marilyn Monroe. My heavens how times have changed!!

When I was in high school, your date arrived at the door with a corsage that he wasn’t quite sure how to attach with your parents standing over him… the smart fellas invested in the kind with elastic that slipped carefully over your wrist. Now these were nice until you tried to dance and then you showered the floor with petals all around you. Last night I didn’t notice a flower attached to a single girl.

When I went shopping for a dress for prom, all the retailers had plenty of poofy chiffon dresses and the bigger your hoop slip the better… trying to sit down with one of these gowns took skills. I thought I was pushing the envelope when I purchased one with rhinestones over the shoulder and a handkerchief bottom. Today, the girls dropped probably no less than $500 bucks to wear plunging necklines and glitz that seems right at home in front of Mann’s Chinese Theatre. A couple of them could have even made that ghost of Marilyn Monroe blush.

Our “kids” didn’t wash Dad’s new car, but rented Hummer limo and party busses so they could bring along 40+ of their closest friends. They pulled up to the entrance with lights flashing, videos playing and the music blaring from these small apartments on wheels so loud than I could feel my heart pound in my throat!

I don’t remember ever being “searched” before prom, but we actually hired a company to search our students before they enter the dance. Even then, we were forced to call parents to pick up kids who were either drinking or popping pills BEFORE the prom. And… lest I forget the girl drama that occurred because someone broke someone’s heart and didn’t invite them to the prom. (That part, I am afraid has not changed in decades)

Typically the school “avoids”booking hotels for our proms, because too many well-meaning parents actually rent rooms for their children to party with their friends. Heaven only knows what actually happens in these rooms.

After calling parents of "high" students, breaking up girl fights, and praying that children are not conceived in the middle of the “mosh pit” on the dance floor, we announced the king and queen and attempted to send the babies off in their expensive rides around midnight.

Now this would be wonderful, if all those limos actually picked up the kids when they were supposed to… but oh no, they double and triple book themselves and every year we are stuck at the venue until 1 am … this year 2 am with kids who were waiting on their cars.

This time my boss and I looked at each other and said “Nevermore” will we patronize this venue. He was on one street corner; I was a block down on another, with every weirdo and derelict in Hollyweird. I commented that “Ethel” and I worked that corner well… only I didn’t get paid! I was like a mother hen huddling my chicks into a safe area. Seems the Roosevelt Hotel is home to one of Hollywood’s hottest clubs and about the time our kids were going home… it was just getting fired up. Lesson Learned!

We finally got home around 2:30 am and I was so wired I couldn’t sleep… my feet were swollen, I had stood on the street corner with “Ethel” so long my arms were numb with the chill of the evening and the stench of the club goers cigarette smoke was still in my hair.

At that moment I sighed and realized that my job was over, I could only imagine how many parents were losing sleep waiting for their child to come home from the time of their lives. Hopefully our kids made some lasting memories that when they send their own kids off in rockets to blast to the moon for their prom, they can look back a reminisce of their own special evening… hopefully I will be dead by then!

5-23-08 -- The Empire Strikes Back!

The last couple of weeks have been interesting in that I have once again witnessed the idiocy that we have labeled “freedom” at its finest.  Somehow I feel our founding fathers must be rolling in their graves with the thought of have we have corrupted their common sense approach to government and societal freedom and turned it into the nonsense we now call American society.  And let me qualify by saying that I still shed a tear when the national anthem is played, would love to ship off all those who roast our President on the nightly news, and shiver to know we have two students in our school who refuse to stand for the flag because we failed to educate them with the simple fact that their forefathers died to give them the right to be stupid... all in the name of "political correctness."

 

Ok so I am a bit fired up this week.  It began with news that an expulsion hearing for a young man who pushed a teacher was dismissed because the teacher did not feel comfortable being “roasted” by the kid’s attorney and our schools (especially on the west coast) now run in fear any time the word “lawsuit” is mumbled.  This is due to a long history of any knucklehead who wants to challenge the “system” usually wins in the Ninth Circuit of Appeals, schools understand that if they are sued, the scarce monies they are given to educate children would quickly be gobbled up by some nutcase who doesn’t want to follow the rules. 

 

This incident was followed by a young man who “loaned” his property to friend only to “steal” it back and demand retribution.  This little matter took a colleague two full days to investigate.  When the school told his parents that we actually had film showing the young man walking with the property, the parents quickly attacked the school official demanding their child was not capable of such and act and demanded the see the film.  Now… if memory serves me, we have a section in our agenda book of rules dedicated to “Things Not to Bring to School.”  This section it CLEARLY reads “Do not Bring Things to School You Can Not Afford to Lose… THE SCHOOL IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR LOST OR STOLEN ITEMS.”   So… why did we lose two days that we could have focused on providing a quality education trying to prove that this kid was lying?

 

Between lunch on Friday and the final bell I dealt with round three of a racial conflict, an potential girl fight over “mad dogging (aka bad looks at each other)” a parent who insisted that we could not hold a truancy hearing because her innocent son wasn’t ditching; only to find that “little Johnny” was ridding the home of any phone message or letter which implicated him in misconduct, and finally explaining to a mother why it was ok for me to question her son as to why he had gang references on his notebook because he had “only ran to a fight” and we were not “picking on him” because he had be warned TWICE about the graffiti. 

 

ARGH!!!! As we sat around at the end of the day discussing the sheer nonsense of our week the thought occurred to me.  What if… the Empire actually did strike back?  What if… a student was sued by the teacher for putting hands on him?  What if…  a school official refused an apology from a parent who just cussed them out for something their kid ACTUALLY did.  What if… a teacher took little Johnny and Sally to court for inflicting Traumatic Stress Disorder?  What if… communities ran kids/gangs out of town for destroying public property?  Would the world change?   Tell me… what exactly is it that we need to do to get the fella with the white hat back on the horse without threat of some judge who is more interested in his or her own political agenda than serving the spirit of the law? 

5-16-2008 - They Send Us Their Most Valuable Thing"

For years it has amazed me how indignant parents can become when they learn that the school has given their child disciplinary an action.  I remember in elementary school my mother told me, “If you ever get in trouble at school, you can expect double that when you get home.”  She made a believer out of me and despite my strong sense of independence I escaped the first twelve years of my education with only a detention for chewing gum in class.  There were times that I remember my parents “marching down to that school” to speak to the principal, but it was because that cranky 1st grade teacher publicly embarrassed me for using an orange crayon on that duck rather than a yellow one… but that was different!  Or, when my mother called the principal because that mean ole 5th grade math teacher refused to take my make-up math homework, but once again … that was different.  I guess it depends on one’s perspective as to why they “march down to that school.”  

 

I can relate to the old saying, “Where you stand, is where you sit.”  It not only applies to politics, but the education of children as well.   I still remember sitting in a pre-year staff development meeting as a young teacher and hearing the principal say, “Just remember, parents send us the most the important thing in their life…their child.  When we deal with them remember how precious the object.”   As a school administrator I try to remember these words while parents are yelling at me.  Parents send us the best that they can, and it is my job to assist them shape their child to be a respectful citizen.

 

When a parent “marches” into my office, they bring with them not only memories of that delightful baby, but also the scrapped knee, hand-picked flowers and tears of pain. … they mix in their fears, feelings of failure and sheer desperation.  They need to “vent” these emotions.  Although they don’t know me, I suddenly I become public enemy number one because I have exercised my right to discipline their child.   Although I never hesitate to explain to a parent that I have the legal right (en loco parentis… meaning just as parents) to discipline a kid on my watch, it is difficult for them to admit that their “perfect” child could be a fault or worse they have failed as a parent.  That is not to discount at times that teachers are human and may be unaware they were unfair.

 

The important thing to understand is that in order for children (including teenagers) to feel safe, you must define boundaries for them.  Despite your love as a parent, when a child makes a mistake they must learn from it.   How quickly does society judge the battered wife for “staying in an abusive relationship”?  We hear over and over, why does that woman allow that man to treat her that way?   Why then is it ok for parents to enable an abusive child?   If there is no correction the behavior will not stop and the child will assume the bad behavior is ok because their parents allow it.  If I had a quarter for every time I heard a child in the discipline office be verbally abusive to their parents I could retire tomorrow.  I never hesitate to tell the kid… that the person you are speaking to gave life to you, keeps clothes on your back, and feeds you… do not treat them with disrespect in this office! Unfortunately this pattern starts at a young age, and by the time they get to my office there isn’t much we can do to reshape the behavior.

 

Last week I gave a Saturday School to a student who had numerous tardies to class.  When I questioned him as to why he was tardy to one class and not another, his response was clear.  “Oh Mr.Teacherman doesn’t allow you walk in late to his class.”   I remember a professor said, “if you expect mediocrity, you will get mediocrity… if you expect excellence, you will get excellence.”  Kids seem to reflect your expectations of them.  If you expect them to be knuckleheads, then they will gladly oblige you.  

 

I guess what I am trying to say is … we should not allow people (kids or adults) to treat us badly.  If you set clear expectations and refuse less, folks will somehow measure up.  That’s not to say that everyone doesn’t have a bad day now and again, but if society communicated what will not be tolerated perhaps we might change the world for the better.  

 

Parents, before you “march” please step back and evaluate… is this a teachable moment for your child?  School officials please remember… parents send their child, their most valuable commodity, handle with care.

 

 

 

5-9-08 - Sarah's Story

 It was nice to be back in the office after literally weeks of preparing for state assessments.  I was tuned and ready to deal with children who forgot to serve a detention or momentarily forgot that the teacher was the “boss” of the classroom.  I had successfully removed the pen cap from a young lad’s mouth that thought it was quite funny to make whistling noises in the discipline office and all was good in the world. 

 

Then… in the luxury of my peace, a staff member walked in and reported that a young man had witnessed an older man “handing off” something to one of our female students at a local convenience store a couple blocks from school.  He was concerned for her safety and came straight to the office to report it.   Of course a number of red flags went off in my head, you know the kind you too often see on the nightly news, so I located her first period class and went to find her. 

 

As I entered the class, students were all engaged in a group math activity.  I was concerned that she might “drop” the item, so I quickly asked the teacher to identify her and informed her that she needed to take all of her items to the office with her.  Now Sarah was about 15 years old… she was a petite young girl with big doe eyes that welled with tears when I asked her if she had anything in her possession that should not be a school.   I followed up with my standard statement… "I usually know the answer before I ask, so you can be honest with me OR I can turn this over to the police and your parents can pick you up at the police station."  This method is usually quick and painless; students usually come clean with the thought of the police contacting their parents while they are sitting in a jail cell. 

 

Before we reached the office, Sarah immediately told me that she had a “friend” buy her vodka and it was now in her purse.  When I asked her how much she consumed she started crying and said, she couldn’t drink it, because make her sick.  As much as I wanted to laugh at her plight, I reminded myself that if a child is paying for hard liquor before school starts, there must be something terribly wrong in her life.   I searched her belongings and found a small bottle of cheap vodka with about a cap-full missing.  She later explained that she had thrown up the small amount she consumed… I told her that even most adults require lots of fruits and/or sugar to get that stuff down.

 

When I asked her what was so terrible that she needed to drink before school, she began crying again and told me that she had only been enrolled at our school for a couple months… she had moved in with her dad because her older sister was having trouble and needed to move back in with her mother and they just didn’t get along.  She thought she was doing the right thing moving to our town with her dad, but she missed her friends and her dog.  She went on to say that when she transferred that our school required more credits to graduate than her previous school (anyone else think we need a standard system nation-wide?) and that she wanted to transfer to our continuation school so she could catch up.  She added that her aunt has just passed away and her grandmother was now also dying.  It was just more than she could handle and she thought the booze would make her feel better.  When I asked about her relationship with her Dad, she said they got along fine, but she had not shared with him how upset she was about the chaos in her life.

 

Sure enough, when I called Dad he totally shocked by his daughter’s behavior.  At first he wanted to blame the school because we had not “helped” his oldest daughter.  After a long phone conversation trying to focus him back on the situation at hand, I convinced him that I was indeed concerned about this daughter and I “the school” would do everything I could to help her.  I informed him that alcohol on the campus was an automatic five day suspension from school and that I had called the School Resource Officer (police officer) who would probably also cite her for having the vodka on campus.  I was very disappointed to hear that his concern was primarily with the embarrassment of the issue, he stated that he worked for the city and knew many police officers and he hoped they could resolve the issue without dragging his name through the mud.  Good grief Dad… is there any wonder your daughter doesn’t confide in you? 

 

When the SRO arrived, Sarah and her Dad were sitting on the bench outside my office waiting their fate.  I explained the situation to the officer and since Sarah made good grades, had no discipline referrals, and was struggling with family issues I requested that he only do a Field Information card, “FI,” and not arrest her at the request of the school administrator.   Since this SRO had worked with me for seven years, his jaw fell to the floor.  He looked up at Sarah and said, I can only think of one other time Ms Castleman has requested that I NOT arrest a student… look at the sign hanging over your head.  He was referring to my wooden plaque with the phrase,” Don’t Mess with Texas.”   He told her, “You must be a very special young lady.”

 

The truth of the matter is… Sarah was a very special young lady.  What this child needed at the moment was someone on her side.  Citing this young lady would not solve her dilemma.  Heck, she couldn’t even get the vodka down.  This was an opportunity to prove to both her (and her dad) that the school was not “the bad guys” and hopefully make a drastic bout face for a college-bound child who had never been in trouble in her life.  

 

My hope for this family is that they will use this time to grow closer and dig deep to give Sarah the love and support that she so obviously needs.  Sarah had “fallen on the sword” so that her troubled sister could be with their mother, now this family needs to realize that sometimes the “good kid” needs some attention too!    

5-8-08 -- The Hanging Judge Returns

It had only been two weeks since Judge Roy Bean (The Hanging Judge) had been called out of town for some dubious task. In that short time The Daltons Boys and Billy the Kid had Zorro tied up in the classroom, Captain Crunch had been using apples for bongs in the boys restroom, and Tonto has stolen a master key and was replacing I-Pods with “Silver Bullets” everyone’s locker.  The Preacher frantically signaled (via telegraph of course) for someone to find The Hanging Judge to restore order to the land...who was at the time forced by the trained monkeys to arrange countless state assessments for unexpecting children of the town. (Gotcha Jawaha)

 

OK… so I have an over-inflated sense of importance!  But, today it was known throughout the land that the HANGING JUDGE WAS BACK ON THE BENCH!  Yesterday I hummed a sober version of “Taps” while tear ran down Debbie’s face as we counted the last testing bin and removed its contents for shipment.  OK… I’m lying about that too, but it was nice that the bulk of that darn test was now over.   Today I returned to five hundred discipline referrals! (still lying)

 

 

Please do not ask me how many outlaws I suspended today, I lost count somewhere around ten (not lying.)  It amazes me how in two short weeks children can accumulate six to ten referrals.  After shaming them for hours I banished them home with their folks for some additional parental time that obviously didn’t work in the first place!

 

I really did have an encounter with “Billy the Kid.”  Knowing that Billy was one of the most ornery outlaws in the land, yesterday I moved him to a table by himself for California High School Exit Exam make up and even whispered “sweet nothings” in his ear before I left the room in hopes that he might actually finish the exam without it being invalidated due to his bad behavior.  My efforts were futile in that a couple hours later I returned to find the empty chair where Billy once sat.

 

Understanding I would need “deal” with Billy the Kid today, he appeared on the radar in a very peculiar way.  I received a visit from his very upset Algebra teacher who was frustrated not only with Billy, but with a colleague who was allowing him to stay in her room every day while he ditched his math class.  She was rightly upset about the matter.  I launched a series of emails to his case manager (Special Education) his counselor, all his teachers, and the school nurse directing them to send Billy to the appropriate class lest he get a summons from the Hanging Judge. 

You see, a couple weeks ago, we had met in an IEP (meeting to evaluate educational services of special education students) and discussed the need for Billy to assume accountability for his behavior so that we might actually educate him.  Following the meeting, the counselor shared that Billy has a very hostile home environment.  His father is a drunk and Billy has to routinely assist his mother when his Dad is falling around the house.  His older brother (who has an entire section of gray hairs in my head dedicated to his honor) is now in treatment for a cocaine addiction, and the only coping skill Billy has is to blow up and cuss everyone out.

Our own Energizer Bunny, who we refer to as School Nurse, took this as her own personal challenge to help this young man get back on track.  Ifound this quite amusing given that Billy insists that he is a member of White Power (local Neo-Nazi group of young people) and the school nurse is Jewish… for some reason she looked beyond the ignorance, and had championed his cause.  Once again today she went into battle for his success.  She contacted all his teachers, played mediator with them all and set up a concrete step by step plan for this young man to return to class… lest the Hanging Judge get to him first!

 

I couldn’t help but laugh when she explained how she actually got him to sign a form from a local organization (Jewish Family Services) that has been working with the community to help families get back on track.  When I asked her how she managed to put aside the “HATE” and love this young man despite his prejudice, she just replied, “This is my test.” 

 

I understood exactly what she meant.  "Life Tests” walk in our offices every day.  On some subliminal level you can hear the public announcement bulletin… “This is a test, for the next six month your character will be tested as to how you deal with this individual… this is only a test.”   In my tenure as a school administrator, I’ve had my faith shaken to its knees and I know a good test when I see one.  However, my own personal faith is also attached to Jesus' reply to the Apostle Peter… “If you love me, feed my sheep.”  This is my reason for getting out of bed each morning.  Every day, we are all met with folks that are in so much pain that any glimmer of hope from us maybe the only incentive they have to continue this crazy rat race. Unfortunately, I forget this at times.  Although sending teenagers to the “gallows” is often necessary to help them establish clear boundaries, may I never forget to give them their last meal!