Category Archives: encore

Testing: 1, 2, 3 – Encore, almost

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It’s that time of year again! State testing. The Wonderful Knowledge and Concepts Exam. Criterion Referenced Items (a.k.a. WKCE-CRI). Rubrics. Fill in the bubble next to the correct answer choice. Make sure you erase completely and make your new mark heavy and dark. Use only a number 2 pencil. Any questions? You have 40 minutes. Begin.

I teach in a public virtual charter school, an online school, and my students live all over the state of Wisconsin. Since we can’t expect all of them to come to us, we go to them for the required tests. After the Packers beat the Rams on Sunday, I put on my test season sweatshirt (above), packed my bags, and got ready to go.

My destination: a hotel in a major metropolitan area with conference room or rooms that will hold all of our area students. Four of my colleagues and I set up camp in our hotel rooms, including connection to the hotel wi-fi and an in-depth investigation of the in-room coffee makers. We had supper in the bar (the hotel restaurant was out of our price range), checked out the conference rooms for size and set-up, and then settled into our hotel rooms again to relax.

I set out my clothes for the next day — casual, yet teacher-dressy — including my school name badge (so parents will know who I am) and my district ID (in case the state agency decides to audit us). I’m ready.

In the morning, students armed with number 2 pencils will arrive, ready to attack their test booklets.


I hope they all remember that multiple choice items have only one answer, and they should make their marks heavy and dark.

And I sure hope I can forget this repetitive test proctor speech so it stops running through my head and invading my dreams at night!
Note: this is an encore post with a few revisions to bring it up to date. I’m settled into the same sorta-ritzy hotel as last year, with four coworkers instead of two because our enrollment skyrocketed this year. The number of students to be tested in this location doubled, as did the number of younger students that need a benchmark reading assessment. Later – later this week, perhaps, I’ll share some of the trials and tribulations of maintaining test security on the road. 

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Unfathomable. Unthinkable. Unexpected Violence

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What can I say about the horrific attack in a Colorado theater? Is there anything, really, that can make sense out of something so senseless? Meanwhile, I offer an encore post, a memory of an event that brought on a similar state of mind when it happened. The tragic event took place in early November. This post went up in December, after I’d had a chance to process what happened and the accompanying emotions.

The talk, not necessarily in this order, floated around the office as drama unfolded on a wet and snowy day.

 “Why haven’t they used an AED yet? By the way, where’s ours? On this floor or first?”
“Shouldn’t someone be directing traffic?”
“I don’t like the looks of this. The ambulance isn’t moving; it’s not rushing away.”
“I mean, they’re giving CPR in the road and people are just driving by!”
“They just dragged her out of the car.”
“It’s snowing. The road is so wet. Couldn’t they at least…”
“Oh my God. We just watched someone die.”
It was a sobering experience. From our point of view, it happened quickly. From the victim’s point of view, it didn’t happen quickly enough. On an ordinary day at the office, we heard a siren that stopped nearby. This wasn’t enough to attract attention; sirens are not uncommon in the neighborhood. But then my coworker, one who actually has a window in her cubicle, called out, “Oh my God, there’s a body in the street!” Well, not a body – yet – but a person in need of help. The car had pulled over, the person was laid flat on the road, and a paramedic gave rapid chest compressions. We didn’t know if the victim was male or female; somehow, the feminine pronouns took over.
The fire truck with lights on was parked behind the patient’s car, but the opposite lane wasn’t blocked. Cars kept driving down the street, coming within a few feet of the action. The wet snow, almost a rain-snow mix, floated down on all involved in this surreal and tragic scene. The road was soaked, as were the sidewalk and the nearby strip of grass. No matter where they’d taken her, she’d have been soaked as they worked to revive her.
The ambulance pulled up with its EMTs and a stretcher and an AED. Too much ABC for you? Emergency Medical Technician and Automated External Defibrillator. Many public buildings now have AEDs, schools included. Updated CPR training often includes using an AED. My last training did.
Back to the drama. The ambulance pulled up. In less time than it takes to write it, the EMTs had their AED in hand and were on the ground getting it set up and attached to the patient’s chest. They lifted her (him? we would never know) onto the stretcher and backed off to let the AED do its shocking job. The patient was still getting shocked as the stretcher was lifted and rolled into the back of the ambulance.
And then the ambulance stood still. We did, too, horrified by the scene and yet unable to pull away. From the moment the fire truck rounded the corner with its siren on, we weren’t needed. The professionals were here. They would save this person. It’s what they do.
“Uh-oh.”
“I don’t like the looks of this.”
“It has to be a bad sign that they’re not rushing away.”
“They just went in the building to get the other people from the car.”
“How long do you think it was?”
“Long enough to realize she was sick, call 911, and get the paramedics on the scene.”
“Several minutes. Oh, my.”
And then: “Oh my God, we just watched someone die.”
It was a sobering thought. As we turned to practical workplace matters, our thoughts strayed to the person in the street. Who was with her? Were they friends? Did she leave close family behind? Did she know they were trying, trying hard to revive her and save her life?
What would we do in that situation? Could we pull over and call without panicking? How many of us knew CPR well enough to get it started? Where was the AED in our own building, and how many of us knew how to use it?
We still wondered why no one had arrived to direct traffic. After all, there was a space reserved for a police car in our own parking lot. It was common to have an officer or two nearby. By this time, though, traffic no longer mattered. The large emergency vehicles drove off slowly, lights no longer flashing. We imagined they moved sadly, as if the trucks themselves grieved for the death they had failed to prevent.

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I teach, and I pay taxes – a still-timely encore

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This was originally posted in February of 2011 when the wild rumpus in Madison had just begun. I was on medical leave recovering from a severe depression when Gov. Walker’s, er, proposal broke open. The post, unfortunately, is still relevant. The phrase “My Tax Dollars!” is so hurtful when it’s misused, and it’s getting misused daily. 

I teach, and I pay taxes. Or should I say “I pay taxes and I teach”?

Folks who’ve seen the Wisconsin budget drama on CNN or Fox News or CSNBC probably wonder. “Daisy, you’re a teacher! You live in Wisconsin! You’re a progressive thinker and you’re active in politics! Why have you said nothing about the demonstrations? Or the disappearance of the Senate Democrats? Or Governor Walker’s bad hair and desire for make-up any time a camera is near? Never mind that last one.
I haven’t posted yet because it’s so upsetting. Today I’m checking in periodically, but I’m minimizing my TV news time. My news junkie self is not compatible with the depressive self, and I’m in a pretty bad state right now – pun intended.
Instead, I’d like to share a few facts about union history. Consider it a history lesson featuring the American worker.
Early railroad worker unions were primarily insurance providers. The workers could not get standard insurance because their work was considered too hazardous, the workers too risky to insure. From Railroad Labor and its History
The first organization of working women to organize was the Lowell Female Labor Reform Association, a group of young women working in textile mills. For a descriptive piece on the Lowell Mills Girls, look to this piece, an overview of women’s labor rights at the time. From Women and Unions, early efforts
Unions helped outlaw child labor and protect worker safety. The horrible Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire spurred further movements to keep workers safe at work. Work also means outdoor work. Remember Cesar Chavez? The United Farm Workers are glad he took the lead to improve their treatment.
Unions are about people: working people. Unions help regulate working conditions, wages, and employee rights. Benefits in union contracts include paid sick days, working conditions, grievance procedures, opportunities for advancement or changing positions, length of workday, and more. My current contract has 182 pages, single spaced. It’s a complex, thoughtful agreement between the school board and the association that represents the district’s teachers.
Every paycheck I receive has taxes taken out. Yes, I teach. Yes, I pay taxes. Yes, I’m a union member. I’m proud of all three.

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What is normal? Who is normal? (Encore presentation)

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This post first aired in November of 2009. It still seems timely. Perhaps it’s just timeless. Here you go, another Daisy Classic.

“But you seem so normal!” It was a phrase in a post from Deafmom, a post she titled “You’re not really deaf, are you?” This one got me thinking – a dangerous pastime, I know.

Normal = neuro-typical, non disabled.
Normal = typical, following the norm.
Normal = expected, unsurprising.
Normal = cool forehead, no fever.
Normal = just another sheep following the herd.

Is Normal good or bad? Is Normal something in between? Is Normal static or a constant state of change? Is Normal a comfort level, don’t rock the boat, or is Normal that’s-the-way-we’ve-always-done-it?

  • Does Normal have an IEP (Individualized Education Plan)?
  • Does Normal need an adapted cell phone?
  • Does Normal stay in the background or insist on action?
  • Is Normal pink, red, or mauve?
  • Does Normal get on the right track, just stand there and wait to get run over?
  • Does Normal slow for yellow lights or speed up?
  • Does Normal walk to school or take her lunch?

The last one is the really telling question. “Normal” in the sense of non-disabled or neuro-typical is a label that doesn’t really make sense. It implies that the disabled person is someone out of the norm, out of the mainstream, off the track. It implies that the person with a disability isn’t one of the crowd, sticks out, doesn’t belong.

“Normal” doesn’t need to be eliminated from the language. Normal is, after all, a city in Illinois. But all of us, not just the so-called Normal folk, need to think before we speak. Telling a disabled person that they are not Normal is inaccurate, hurtful, and just wrong.

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Fit in or Stand Out? (encore presentation)

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This post debuted in April of 2011. Rereading it, I wondered what started my thinking along these lines. I was recovering from a severe depression at the time. Was this part of a relapse? Was it part of the difficulty I had in documenting my hearing loss under ADA for my employer? I honestly don’t remember exactly what kind of trigger led to this post.

“Why do you try so hard to fit in when you were made to stand out?”

This quote turned up again, this time in my Plurk network. It struck me in a sensitive place, as always.
I am different.
I have a hearing loss.

I wear two hearing aids.
And…

I teach.
I am educated.
I am articulate.
So which is it? In education we claim to value differences. However, I see more pressure to conform, pressure to follow the same path and be just like the others. We differentiate and adapt for our students, but not for each other.
Being a teacher and being different do not mesh well.
I may not always hear you perfectly, but when I know what you’ve said, I can address it and answer you in complete sentences. My hearing loss didn’t stop me from earning an undergraduate degree from a Conservatory of Music and a graduate degree in Curriculum and Instruction. I can write a research paper and quote the studies that support each point I make. I can write a letter that’s short and succinct and yet complete enough for the newspaper to publish. I can write a grant application that brings my class and my school much-needed money.
So which is it? Square peg or round hole? Fit in or stand out?
I still don’t know.

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