more Phoenix than Pigeon

Posted on August 17, 2015 by bakrawiec

When facing new challenges and insecurities, as in retirement, it’s good to think back to past victories over unlikely starts, don’t you think?

My most unlikely start came when my thirty-something-year-old husband, and father of our eight- and eleven-year-olds, learned that he had a congenital heart defect, requiring non-emergency valve replacement surgery.

With four months to prepare for the reality of his open-heart surgery (at that time, in its procedural infancy) and the specter, if something went wrong, of being solely responsible for our two children, I scrambled mid-school-year to find the security of a full-time job.

Only available job was a just-posted language arts computer lab teacher position.

That was an interesting job possibility for me, since I had never touched a computer–or even been in the same air space with one—nor did I have any desire to do so.

No matter. As “necessity is the mother of invention,” I invented myself, thanks to three days of Apple training provided by the district, into becoming the district’s first Basic Skills language arts computer lab instructor, sharing responsibility for opening the lab with my math teacher counterpart.

Bottomline, not only did I totally amaze myself that I could do the job, but apparently I amazed one of the vendors (Bank Street Writer) who offered me a full-time training job, and our district’s administration who replaced the Apple trainer with me, holding me responsible for providing computer literacy training classes for all the teachers (elementary through high school), administrators, and even some interested Board members in our large suburban system—at the time, sixth largest in our state. The computer consultant the district hired was impressed with me, too; she invited me, in her absence, to guest lecture her undergraduate class at the local university.

Apparently, I continued to impress. At the end of the year, the district offered me the opportunity to “run” the first mobile computer lab. …All I had to do was get my bus driver’s license.

Having no where near the predilection for driving a bus as does Mo Willems’ Pigeon, I graciously backed out of the educational pioneer computer arena, happily relinquishing my role as one of the district’s digital change agents, and “reverted” to being a traditional eighth grade Language Arts classroom teacher, albeit incorporating technology into my teaching and my students’ hands-on learning.

Could it be Pigeon has more brains than I? There I had been with an invitation handed to me, not only to get onboard the digital express, but to help drive it, servicing all district schools and students, and I chose not to take the wheel.

(When he heard I would have to get my commercial driver’s license, my husband didn’t exactly instill confidence, commenting that I already turned corners in our sedan as if I were driving a bus. Admittedly, though, if I had wanted to drive a computer-lab bus, those would have been fighting words to prove I could do it. I didn’t.)

Could be it was the biggest mistake of my professional life. I’ll never know, will I?

Thought about that in one of my last days as a library media specialist this past June when a fifth grade teacher remarked how much his students enjoyed maneuvering the Oregon Trail online. Students just couldn’t get enough of transporting themselves over the Trail.

Oregon Trail, as in one of the first educational computer “games” I shared with basic skills students back in the district’s first computer lab? …incredulously, I wondered.

Could it be? Yes! Surprisingly, now, all these years later, there is an online version of the back-then popular MECC over-sized floppy program.

(MECC—there’s an acronym I haven’t thought of in a couple of decades. Minnesota Educational Computer Consortium—how I relied on their products, “back then.”)

Circle the wagons. I think I’ve come full circle. Amazing…Retiring. And now I’ve even started tweeting!  More Phoenix than Pigeon, I’m back aboard in an entirely new way, more student than teacher. An exciting new beginning.

Bring on retirement with all its opportunities and challenges. Given what I’ve been through, guess there isn’t anything I can’t do, if I need and want to–anything, that is, within reason! (Don’t think you’ll ever seeing me behind the wheel of a bus; I think I’ll leave that joy for Pigeon.)

Are there any pioneering opportunities you let pass by? Wish you hadn’t?

Posted in Computer Lab, Computers, Education, Library Media Specialist, Retirement | 3 Comments

Retiree regret? (a.k.a. buyers’ remorse)

Posted on August 16, 2015 by bakrawiec

Here I am, down to about two weeks before retirement. Fourteen days, which are about all the notice that employees in other lines of work need to give employers before resigning.

My employer required sixty days.

Because I have not been working in our extended school year program for special needs students this summer, the sixty days have provided a quiet, restful transition time that I have very much appreciated.

During the forty plus days that have passed, I admit to having momentary twinges of retiree regret, akin, I think, to buyers’ remorse.

Buyers’ remorse.

What have I bought?

Hopefully, I’ve bought myself more time and energy… Time and energy to grow older and wiser without the drain and strain of commitments and responsibility to hundreds of elementary students and their teachers.

What has it cost?

The letting go of a work identity, as well as the satisfaction, challenge, and joy of growing older and wiser through interaction with hundreds of elementary students and their teachers in my role as library media specialist.

Retiree regret? Buyers’ remorse?

Burned out. Stressed out. Empty tank. …No, I’m on the right course, not only for me, but for my colleagues and students.

More time and energy.

I’m ready.  Bring on life in a different mode—

Slower, yet undoubtedly filled with stressors and strains of different sorts, I suppose, but no less full and fulfilling, if I work at retirement and let its challenges and satisfactions keep me teaching and learning as long as I have breath–as long as I’m alive.

Have you ever experienced voluntary change-of-employment venue or status remorse of sorts?

Posted in Education, Employment, Retirement | 7 Comments

waste not; want not

Posted on August 15, 2015 by bakrawiec

Based on prior posts you know: I left 50 unused, unreimbursed sick days on the table.

Where did they go? Nowhere.

Where could they have gone? Into a sick bank.

Certainly a sick bank is not an uncommon phenomenon, even if its application among employment settings is not uniform–nor does it necessarily have to be.

Hopefully, though, the most generous kind of sick bank predominates–generous in that it provides for a high–or unlimited–ceiling on deposits and withdrawals. (Withdrawals, of course, that meet predetermined just criteria.)

In some districts, for example, retirees are able to donate to standing sick banks substantial numbers of excess, unreimbursed sick days.

In the district from which I retired, there was no sick bank. Period.

There was, however, an opportunity on an administration-approved case-by-case basis for the union to request from among its membership a particular number of sick day donations for specific individuals’ causes.

In responding to the sick day donation requests, one group of members was prohibited by administration from contributing even one day: individuals who were expected imminently to retire.

(Interesting stipulation! I didn’t decide to retire until the school year ended. Hmm…Will HR go back and revoke the donations I made this past school year?)

Four years ago, one of our colleagues died after a two-year battle with cancer. Because she never once abused any offers of sick days—Just the opposite! We really had to beg her to take some much needed time off!– I was hoping that a standing sick bank would be created in her memory and honor, with an application process our administration and union could oversee to ensure that a sick bank would not result in abuses.

Under the proposed Memorial Sick Bank, prospective retirees, unlike the one who had made known her intention to retire, and deeply regretted not being able to donate even one day to her dying friend, would be as eligible as any other employees to donate days. A parting gift from retirees, so to speak.

Sick banks: Borrowing. Lending. Transferring. Escrow. Deposits. Withdrawals. Security. Interest. Loans.

Banking terms that apply to a very human way of helping friends and colleagues in need.

Unused sick days—too bad mine had to go to waste.

However, knowing the generosity of my former colleagues, sick bank or not, when friends and colleagues are in need, others come to the rescue—and you can bank on that!

How did your employer handle employees’  needs for additional sick days? If you had a sick bank, how did it work? Pro’s and con’s you noticed?

Posted in Employment, Retirement, Sick Days | Leave a comment

50 unused sick days: why I left them

Posted on August 14, 2015 by bakrawiec

Piggybacking on the last post: Yes! Despite my financial advisor’s advice to the contrary, I left fifty unused sick days on the table, in part, for all the reasons explained previously.

However, if I’m honest with myself, there was yet another H-U-G-E reason for my reluctance to take those days.

I can fully spell that reason in eleven letters, or in abbreviated form, in just its first four:

S-U-B-S

S-U-B-S-T-I-T-U-T-E-S

To substitutes I tip my hat. I give them all the credit in the world for doing what they do. I could never do it. I need to prepare; I need to know the entire logistics before walking unaware (or even aware) into a room just minutes before the arrival of the students. Horrors! Thank God, literally, for individuals strong and generous enough to substitute.

(Yes! I am the dry-run queen; substituting is a frightening proposition. As a classroom teacher, I said I’d rather be selling apples on the street corner than ever do any substituting. As a library media specialist, I haven’t said that, but I’d still rather not substitute, unless, perhaps if I were totally destitute. Given my inability to do that job, I am indebted and grateful to those who have the constitutional fortitude to take on that indispensable role. Truly, substitute teachers are our unsung heroes! Full-time teachers and students–to say nothing of administrators–cannot do without them!)

That being said, as much as a “good” (competent) sub is priceless, golden, a teacher’s dream!, a “bad” (less than competent) sub is a teacher’s nightmare.

I learned about the latter the very first time I ever needed a substitute teacher.

My junior high social studies classes were “trying” King George III. Every student had a role for which he or she had researched and prepared. “All” the substitute had to do was what I did: sit in the back of the room, facilitating as little as required, being the adult of record in the class.

I thought I had clearly emphasized that role to the substitute.

Apparently not clearly enough.

Not only did she choose not to sit in the back of the room, she chose not to allow the students to continue with their trials. And as if that weren’t disheartening enough, what she did choose to do was precisely what I did not want done: she lectured the students on King George III, offering her perspective and advising them on the next steps of their trial proceedings and verdict.

Substitute trauma. That’s what that incident gave me. I was incredulous, perplexed, angry. Uninvited, she had totally “ruined” the students’ inductive learning experience.

In the heat of the moment, I promised myself I would never let that happen again. That’s right! I determined I simply would never again be absent!

Obviously, that plan was totally as illogical as it was impossible. I was absent again.

Better solution? More detailed, explicit plans, identifying, if necessary, what I was asking that the sub not do, as much as I was asking what I would appreciate him or her doing.

Did it work? Unfortunately, in my experience, as well as the experience of other colleagues, more often than not: not. Why a one-day substitute would feel it necessary or justified to disregard the teacher’s stipulated plans and classroom routines is beyond me.

So much for the substitute herself or himself.

There’s also the matter of the substitute plans that need to be prepared—even for the most perfect subs who faithfully follow the spirit of plans, even if the fluidity of the moment requires an adjustment from the letter of them.

As is true for so many delegated tasks in life, it is easier to execute the plans oneself than to create them for someone else.

In my case, too, as a library media specialist, on any given day, there might be six classes, each a different grade, for which I needed to create plans.  Likewise, in addition to lessons, there were matters of sharing the circulation process that needed to be explained in writing. Also, when I’m really sick, the last thing I want to do is write up cogent lesson and circulation plans.

In my experience, it was the administrative part of the job that LMC substitutes took liberty with, often creating a lot of un-doing, damage control work on my return—starting with the sub who let me know that she “figured out” the circulation system, even though the plans called for the lesson, only, and no book circulation in the event that the sub was unfamiliar with our automated circulation system. (She had never used any circulation system, previously, but said it was “fun.” That was the last time she had that much “fun” as my sub in the library.)

That’s it. Left behind fifty unused sick days.  As sick as I might have been, I grew sicker at the thought of writing plans and entrusting them to a substitute who may/not choose to follow them.

Unless I was totally/communicably ill, I chose to go in. Do you blame me?

Was taking a day off in your line of work challenging?

Posted in Children, Employment, Lesson plans, Retirement, Students, Substitutes, Teachers, Teaching | Leave a comment

sick days: take them or leave them?

Posted on August 13, 2015 by bakrawiec

When our financial adviser reviewed my assets in anticipation of possible retirement, he assumed (incorrectly!) that I would be “paid” for unused sick days. ..At the time, I had more than fifty of them.

“Well, then,” he advised, “if you won’t be reimbursed, then you must use them. When you go, you must leave nothing on the table.”

Sensing (no doubt reading in my body language!) my nonacceptance of what he was suggesting, he elaborated.

“Your employer figured in the cost of those sick days as part of the cost of employing you. If you had been sick, that money would have been paid to your substitute.

“Who do you think the school would rather have doing your job—you or a substitute? How many times did you go to work out of a sense of duty when you weren’t feeling great, and you could have stayed home?”

I smiled. “Many times!”

“You earned those days. …Take them!”

Did I? …I didn’t.

Although his words played loud and clear in my head every time I forced myself to go to work when I was tempted to call in sick, I heard my own voice, too, ringing out words, which in the past had criticized colleagues who did just what he was suggesting, justifying what they did on the “sick or not, sick days are my right to take” basis.

I disagreed. Sick days were a safety net, which I rejoiced in not having to use—the more I didn’t have to use, the healthier, then, I was. I didn’t want to take even one unnecessarily. Not just as a matter of ethics, but as selfish practicality—what if there came a time (as there did!) when I really need them over an extended period?

Maybe if I had been employed longer, with more unused sick days, I would have felt the same as other colleagues, who were disappointed when policies changed and there was a cap on sick day reimbursement upon retirement.

Would I have liked to receive a $20,000 check upon retirement, as did one of my friends? Yes, I would have! Might my perspective have changed at the specter? Might have.

Still, I like to think that my perspective would have remained as it is. I thank God I did not need those sick days. I’m grateful my employer provided that safety net. I do not feel cheated by not being reimbursed.

That being said, I can see that there are mixed messages.

On the other side of the issue, if employers pay for unused sick days, then, it seems to me that they are saying that I am wrong. Sick days are not a safety net which the employer extends, but a kind of salary-related escrow account, which I am entitled to recover.

However, that thinking is tempered by other sick day realities. I needed physician-verification for sick days and was in jeopardy of being penalized–doctor notes not withstanding–if, in any one year, I used half or more of the allotted annual sick days. So were they really mine to use at will?

Maybe reimbursement for unused sick days is not so much tantamount to making sick days an escrow account to be recovered, as it is a kind of farewell bonus, a reward for staying healthy and sparing the need for hiring substitutes.

In my case–no matter. I am not receiving one cent in return for the fifty days I left behind. And, I console myself with having been healthy! And there’s no price tag I can put on that!

What’s your unused sick-days experience and perspective?

Posted in Employment, Retirement | Leave a comment

Biographically speaking…

Posted on August 12, 2015 by bakrawiec

As mentioned in the prior post, every librarian has a unique vision for developing the collection under his or her stewardship.

In my case, when I started in the library from which I am retiring, I appraised the collection, and determined that “beefing up” the biography section for intermediate students was tops on my list. (In case you’re wondering: “beefing up” is not a technical library term).

Although the collection I inherited held as many biographical titles as did other libraries in which I served–surprisingly, based on eyeballing, which totally belied the actual number of titles!, there were fewer individuals whose life stories were part of the collection, given the number of multiple biographies, particularly of pop culture stars.

With increasingly limited funding, my preferred commitment was to add titles that presented the lives of persons of “enduring significance” (to borrow a phrase from a favorite fourth grade teacher), and not to invest further in the biographies of celebrities here today/gone tomorrow.

(I admit there are those colleagues who feel differently, favoring to invest in biographies of pop stars whose lives, admittedly, the students might be more interested in reading. I prefer the “students will rise to the level of expectations” theory. If they are going to take the time to read someone’s life story, I’d rather it be a life that has stood the test of time—a life worth youngsters’ emulating or admiring. Others might strongly disagree. Ergo: differences in collection development.)

My vision in mind, I added more substantive biographies, always in heavy demand and short supply, to meet student needs to learn about influential individuals whose lives are particularly celebrated during the winter months, under themes of Black History, Inventors, Women’s History, and Individuals with Disabilities. (Though not in response to a winter month theme, I also favored biographies of children’s authors and illustrators. Wonder why?)

Most gratifying were students’ reactions to biographies of lesser-known individuals who met—or continue to meet—various challenges, whether physical, emotional, or intellectual. A particular favorite biography was Bethany Hamilton’s. In fact, students were so invested in talking about her remarkable attitude toward sharks, in general, and the shark who bit off her arm, in particular, that our Principal interrupted her walk through the library to enjoy the conversation.

Because our library serves significant numbers of special needs students, it was particularly noteworthy and rewarding to me that the special ed classes of students (who were more aware of their own challenges, perhaps, than are other students, who also have challenges—which living human being doesn’t have challenges?) were the ones who most visibly and vocally resonated with the lives of individuals who have overcome various kinds of disabilities.

In addition to strategically expanding the biography section to increase diversity among the subjects of the biographies, I introduced, and then continued adding to, a biographical series that the students clamored for: a series that included individuals from a wide historical and geographic span; namely, the Who Was [famous person’s name]? series.

Students loved that biographic series so much that they begged that those books not be integrated with the other biographies, but kept separate. Despite my initial “purist” druthers not to set those biographies apart, the student-centered, practical me acquiesced. And most weeks it was hard to tell that such a series was even a special part of the collection, since the books were constantly out on loan to third through fifth graders—and even to some second graders!

Among the boxes on route or already in the school building awaiting the new LMS, are those that hold yet more life stories of African-Americans, women, and individuals with disabilities, as well as more Who Was titles.

Although she might have opted for other biographies if she had been the librarian doing the ordering, I hope my replacement is happy with the ones chosen.

Oh, and speaking of biographies, would it surprise you to learn that these past few years, biographies topped the list of nonfiction titles read by our students? (For my predecessor, folk and fairy tales, of which there were nearly as many titles as biographies, were the most heavily circulated.)

I wonder what will top the list under my successor’s tenure? …Bet it’s something she’s particularly interested in! A librarian’s enthusiasm is contagious.

Oh, and did I mention? …As a reader, I really love biographies!

Is there anyone whose life story has “stuck” with you? (“Stuck,” another non-technical, non-library term.) Is there any biography that has been well worth your reading?

Posted in Books, Children, Education, LIbrarians, Library, Library Media Specialist, Reading, Retirement | Leave a comment

morning after: lame duck librarian

Posted on August 11, 2015 by bakrawiec

Assuming that the Board appointed my replacement last night, I’m even more officially a lame duck librarian this morning.

Meanwhile, until my work account ends on August 31st, I continue receiving email notifications concerning boxes upon boxes of new books that are shipping to my attention.

Boxes that my replacement will have the joy, work, (and surprise!) of opening.

New books I chose most intentionally—specifically, each one!–after spending hours upon hours, over many weeks (months), outside the school day, weighing–yes! even soul-searching–how to best spend the limited budget entrusted to me, taking into consideration among all the published possibilities—thousands and thousands of them–vis a vis current and anticipated student and teacher needs/wants.

I hope the new librarian will be happy with my selections; I hope she will be happy to add what I selected into the collection.

I say “hope” and “happy” because every librarian develops collections differently, even with respect to the same student and teacher needs/wants, interpreting how best to meet those needs/wants through his/her personal lens of expertise and interest–vision.

Yes! I hope the new librarian will be happy to include into the collection the books I chose; books she will now be responsible to process.

Next year, she will have the joy and responsibility of choosing books, with choices based on her judgment, tempered by her expertise and interests–her vision.

As much as the annual process of selecting books was mentally (and physically!) exhausting (I definitely took my responsibility of maximizing every cent of the budget I was given (others’/taxpayers’ money) more seriously than I take spending every cent of my own money/paycheck.), I will definitely miss the joy—as well as the challenge—of selecting the best possible books for students and teachers.

As a child, I dreamed of living in a house that had one room designated as a library. As a Library Media Specialist, that dream came true—at least during the work hours.

Now, in retirement, while practically we need to downsize to a smaller house, my dream still lives to have a house with an entire room that is a library!

A girl can dream, can’t she?..And having one’s own library isn’t too lame a dream, is it?

What childhood dream do you still harbor?

Posted in Books, Children, Education, Employment, Librarian, LIbrarians, Library, Library Media Specialist, Retirement, School, Seniors, Teachers, Teaching, Transitions | Leave a comment

Replaced…will (should???) anything remain?

Posted on August 10, 2015 by bakrawiec

Retirement is getting “realer” and “realer.”

July 13th, the Board of Education accepted and approved my resignation as an elementary library media specialist for retirement purposes.

Tonight, just about one month later, they are expected to approve the hiring of my LMS replacement, someone, I understand, who has a completely different professional background from mine.

As the new kid at the helm of the school library just a few years ago, I was relieved and exhilarated when my principal assured me that I was my own person—no need to feel as if I were the permanent substitute for the very popular LMS I was replacing; no need, unless I wanted, to continue her way of doing things, her initiatives.

I needed and cherished that freedom to be me, to bring to the program some fresh ideas that had been percolating in my brain.

(For the previous five years, I had been the traveling (overload) LMS, respecting the programs the “stationary” LMS’s, in whose libraries I worked a few (overflow) classes a week, had in place. I was ready to soar on my own.)

So, now, the same holds true for the person who will assume the opportunity and responsibility going forward in what is no longer “my” library–(and never really was)–rather, the library I stewarded.

And as much as I totally endorse and respect that freedom, I must admit that there is a part of me that wonders and hopes that some programs will remain, programs and initiatives I put into place, whose description I have begun to share in previous posts or will share in future ones. Programs, I believe, apart from me, that have merit on their own.

Sometimes it’s tough to let go.

One of the joys and privileges of sharing posts about those initiatives, I realize, is this. Even if my replacement opts not to continue some of the things I put in place, maybe some other librarian “out there” in cyberspace will have his or her interest piqued and do a custom variation. All will not be lost.

Even so, if no one opts to do so, if the programs end with me, so be it.

(Which reminds me, Sarah Weeks’ So B. It is one of my most favorite YA novels. Wished it won a Newbery.  ..Which reminds me. We can’t always have what we wish.)

Posted in Children, Education, Employment, Librarian, Library Media Specialist, Retirement, Transitions, Work | Leave a comment

unfortunately…forced into leaving teaching

Posted on August 9, 2015 by bakrawiec

In an earlier post, I compared “social media” constraints at the end of my teaching career with “social” (public drinking) constraints at its start.

In that post, I wondered if the anti-public drinking constraint was aimed particularly at women. …Would my cooperating teacher have given me the same admonition if I had been a male student teacher?

(Too bad I didn’t wonder that decades ago, when she first admonished me; I could have compared notes with the male student teacher across the hallway.  …Too late now!)

In any case, there was one constraint when I got my first teaching job that definitely did apply only to female teachers.

As a non-tenured teacher, I was required to resign no later than my fourth month of pregnancy. (Tenured teachers got to stay two more months, unless their side profile suggested otherwise.)

(Fortunately, two years later, a couple of teachers won a lawsuit, compelling the state  to drop its must-leave requirements at any month of pregnancy, regardless of tenure status.)

These last few years that I have been back in education, I have seen many women work to within days of delivery. I applaud their stamina. Teaching elementary students requires a great deal of physical, as well as emotional and intellectual, strength—as does pregnant motherhood, particularly in the last trimester.

While I applaud them, do I envy them? …Honestly, while I was saddened being forced to leave when I did, remembering how tired I was, how scared I was when a student almost knocked me backwards down a flight of steps, and when I close my eyes and still see the cars ahead and around me skidding out of control on an icy major highway, I am happy that I was given the opportunity to be “safe” at home for the bulk of my pregnancy.

If I have one regret for today’s teachers, it is that the young teachers I talk with today can’t afford to stay home earlier in their pregnancy, even if they want to.

Oh, and personally, when I think back to my having to leave my first teaching job, all these many years later, I still feel the pain of how I was informed to absent myself.

A middle school teacher, I was on my assigned duty in a ninth grade study hall. The principal walked in (without knocking), heading directly to the desk where I was sitting.

No niceties; straight to the chase.

“I understand you are three months’ pregnant.” (I had told his female vice principal—any wonder?)

“You cannot stay past fourth months. February 20th will be your last day. That’s when the winter recess begins.”

And with that, he turned and left, leaving a mortified me behind.

Not even a perfunctory “Congratulations” had he offered, and worse yet–it didn’t seem to me that he had exactly whispered.

The study hall was (amazingly) quiet. I was sure the students had heard every word. Not exactly the way I imagined breaking the news to my students.

Adding insult to injury, when I met my replacement, she confided that when she applied and accepted to be my mid-year leave replacement, we had more in common than being social studies teachers, schooled in the same university. We both were, for the first time, “equally” pregnant.

Difference was that the principal didn’t know about her situation, and, sadly, the doctors expected that her child would be miscarried.

When she told me she was counting on that happening, I could hardly believe my ears, and fortunately for her employment plans, she miscarried the week-end before she walked into the classroom as my replacement.

In retrospect, I realize I should not have judged her—no matter how ironic that she hid her pregnancy, counting on not being pregnant in time to replace someone who had to leave for being the same number of months pregnant.

In retrospect, I realize that it likely was healthy for her to keep herself busy, planning for a new job, as a way of coping with the impending loss of her son. I can say that now because when a close relative faced the same specter, I witnessed firsthand the excruciating pain of knowing you are carrying a child who is dying, a child who cannot be helped by even the most skilled surgeon.

There is something else that has pained me all these years, something that as I have just begun to write this post, for the first time all these years later, I see in a different light.

All these years I thought my replacement was unnecessarily mean and callous for extending my former students’ invitation to me and my baby to attend their end-of-the-year class parties, only to call me back a few days later, discouraging me from coming,  citing what I later learned was a fictitious virus outbreak, still giving students the impression I was coming, knowing I wasn’t, until midway in the party when concerned students asked where I was that she admitted I wasn’t coming, giving the impression I didn’t care about them any longer.

And all these years I thought to myself, Why did she do that to me? Keep me from being with the students who wanted to see me? Having them think I was indifferent toward them? Ostensibly, the school year was over. I wasn’t coming back to replace her. I was no threat to her over the affection or loyalty of those students.

Now, as I write this, I’m putting the two pieces together. Maybe it wasn’t me she purposely kept from attending the party. No. Maybe it was the baby she couldn’t bear to see. A baby that would have been about the same age as her son, a son she carried without hope of ever bringing to school—as visitor or student.

Maybe I should have sensed that. Maybe I am just as guilty for not going without my baby.

Life is complex, isn’t it? And retirement, I’m learning, is a quiet time, a Graced time, when the Lord allows us to see things we hadn’t seen before, as we quiet down in reflection.

I never saw or heard of that teacher-replacement again. I hope she and her husband had many healthy children.

And all those wonderful children who invited me back into their lives for their end-of-year parties would be fifty-nine years old now. I hope they have been blessed with many loving children and grandchildren, even if my mind’s eye keeps them forever being fourteen.

Were there any pregnancy-related employment constraints in your work history?

Posted in Children, Education, Employment, Retirement, School, Seniors, Students, Teaching, Transitions | Leave a comment

Part 1: Family Library–How It Happened

Posted on August 8, 2015 by bakrawiec

Being asked to edit a colleague’s assignment turned out to be a spectacular personal and professional bonus!

From the moment I first read in my colleague’s library visitation report that the media specialist whose library she formally observed had invited parents into the school library before and after the school day, the notion totally captivated my imagination!

Overflowing with enthusiasm, I couldn’t wait to implement the idea, which intention I enthusiastically–and naively!–shared with my supervisor.

Ouch! (There’s no one like a supervisor who can burst a bubble!)

At first, precedent-setting concerns about my “working” with parents and children before and after the faculty contract day caused my supervisor to decidedly withhold her blessing.

Fortunately, a compromise prevailed. The “official” before and after school hours would conform to contract times. (The “unofficial” open library times would be at my discretion.)

My Principal agreed. …Immediately, I swung into action, determined not only to invite parents into the LMC before and after school, but to create for them an inviting, resource-rich “Family Library” section.

(If a separate section is not feasible or desirable, no matter! It is not at all necessary to have a special section in order to invite parents into the LMC, and, in fact, we emphasized to parents that while we had created a section for them, they were entirely free to borrow books from any area of the library.)

Excited to help, student volunteers worked to rearrange the contents of various bookcases until we had two, side-by-side, empty bookcases, accessible from the library entrance/exit near the counselor’s office to serve as the focal point of our Family Library.

Without tapping into a nonexistent budget for that purpose, and enlisting the brainstorming assistance of the reading specialist, whose office was within the library floor space, we filled the bookcases, pulling (re-purposing) fiction and nonfiction from the existing collection.

Starting with fiction and nonfiction books that had special parental appeal, we pulled an array of picture books featuring family characters and settings such that we could “hear and see” parents snuggled up with their children, lovingly reading. We pulled, as well, books dealing with family issues, such as moving, death, and divorce.

Likewise, we pulled a few of our character ed series, with books that addressed “real-life” family concerns such as sibling rivalry, fibbing, bullying, and teasing.

Also, to promote respect for the cultural and linguistic heritages of our families, as well as to meet the needs of parents who spoke or read little or no English, we enlisted the advice of the ESL teacher, and relocated into our Family Library some bilingual story books, foreign language dictionaries and books, and “AV Kits” of books and tapes.

To assist parents who wanted to understand and reinforce the new math-literature connections, we included a number of fiction and non-fiction titles that were recommended in the students’ newly introduced math series.

Finally, we pulled reference books that were still circ-appropriate, but either duplicates or slightly older than materials in the regular reference section.

In addition to the children’s books, we met the adults’ parenting education needs, adding up-to-date professional resources that faculty members donated, such as those related to child development, as well as books on relaxation techniques. (What parent doesn’t need some of those!)

The school counselor gladly contributed a variety of parenting pamphlets, as well as the display rack on which to place them atop the bookcases; she also began “housing” within the display rack the parenting magazines she regularly received.

As the Family Library evolved, parents also donated books, as did the school nurse, who contributed health and wellness reference books, including healthy cookbooks.

Parents and faculty also donated educational board games and flash cards, making some of our resources like chess games hands-on, and we relocated family-friendly videos to the Family Library.

With our Family Library strategically positioned opposite our “Multiple Copies” section of the library, parents were able to borrow more than one copy of a fiction title to read simultaneously with their children.

With some re-purposing of print and non-print materials from our collection, as well as thanks to recycled donations, our two bookcases had an inviting offering, but we did not stop there.

From then on, with each annual collection development budget, we specifically ordered books for the Family Library. Our most rewarding investment, thanks to our Principal, was a series of leveled We Both Read books, published by Treasure Bay. (One, print-heavy side of a two-page spread is meant for the adult to read to the child; the other, print-light side, is meant for the beginning reader. Such books have built-in interactivity and shared reading opportunities.)

The We Both Read books became a big hit—not only with the parents, but with the older siblings, as well. Not only did the older brothers and sisters check out the books to read to their younger siblings, but they sometimes came to the LMC after school, as well, to read together while waiting for a parent to pick them up.

So much for the physical material. The really gratifying part is how the “Family Library” was used—described in the next post—how it became a calling card, enticing parents to come before and after school, with or without their children.

Posted in Books, Children, Education, Families, Family, Kidlit, LIbrarians, Library, Library Media Specialist, Parents, Reading, School | 2 Comments