Wednesday, August 27, 2014

Portals to the Future / Portals to the Past -- Site Specific Dance Project @ Bodine High School

This past spring, the 70+ students in my drama classes at Bodine High School dove deep into ideas of labyrinths / portals / past-present-future in order to create totally original site-specific dance pieces in our school's amazing courtyard.

Then, we led about 200+ other classmates through the labyrinthine field of 12+ performance pieces, truly creating the give-and-take of audience/site/performer that makes live dance so incredible.

Joining me in my classroom were the AMAZING dancers from Bare Teeth Performance Crew, to help craft the students' exploration of themes, bodywork, and the ensemble process of creating original work.

-->   Here is a link to the video of the dance performance. 

If you don't have all day, I would definitely advise you to check out the work from minutes 10:32-15:20, as these groups worked in a truly committed way and it shows!

Also, the students in Ms. Fitzpatrick's Art Classes created all of the painted labyrinth ground murals, as well as all the costumes.

All of this was made possible by the INCREDIBLE FOLKS at the Picasso Arts Grant!

I apologize on posting this so far after the fact.  I got lost in a portal called summer.
Hope you enjoy it!!

Sunday, August 10, 2014

Is this The Hunger Games? – a response to Neoliberal Wind-Up-Toy Reform in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

This month, the School District greeted us with its latest glossy initiative for school transformation – The School Redesign Initiative.  On the surface, it sounds well-enough-intentioned: have teams of educators and community partners apply to take over and redesign a school.  Oh yeah, and do it under the same budget restrictions that are devastating teaching and learning in our District.  You know, that Doomsday/Empty Shell budget that’s turning far too many of our schools into unstable, dysfunctional places where kids by and large are not having their social, emotional or academic needs fully met.

I haven’t read all of the very fine print, but I’ve understood enough to see this for what it is:

A distraction, at best.
And, at worst, a shift-the-blame game that gives the hatchet over to its employees.

Now, if you’ve ever met me, worked with me, or had a conversation with me about my teaching practice, you know that I am constantly trying to innovate and redesign my curriculum, my classroom community cultivation, and my personal energy/spirit/approach to the massive job that is teaching young people and helping them develop into their most actualized selves.  

And you would know that in every single school I’ve worked in (and I’ve worked in quite a few, I promise you), I’ve never been shy about providing suggestions and working with colleagues around internal school improvement.

So, why would I not see this as an opportunity to get in on some school transformation action?

Well, to give a little context, let’s just look at 2 examples from recent Philly history. 

1)   The Rise and Fall of Community-Student-Educator-led School Transformation at West Philadelphia HS.  It’s been written about here and here, among other places.  If you’re not familiar, you just need to know that a serious, principled, community-centered process for transforming the curriculum and culture at a neighborhood high school was essentially destroyed by the School District and its reform policies. 
2)   Teacher leaders in Philadelphia put together a proposal to incubate teacher-led school transformation in Philly public schools, in order to support groups of educators and community members in identifying and putting in action school-centered innovations (sound familiar?).  They presented it to officials from the School District, City Council, and, gasp, even Philadelphia School Partnership, but were not given support on the idea. 
I could write about school teams who were under attack for closure and quickly put together school redesign plans, just to be closed.  I could remind us of schools on closure lists where school staff put together redesign plans and were spared from the chopping block, only to endure massive staff cuts and find themselves unable to put their plans into place. 

So, even with only a cursory look back at the last decade in the SDP, it is not an overstatement to say that the District bringing this initiative to the table now, when the majority of public education stakeholders is focused on finding a taxation solution to our unsustainable annual budget crisis, is something to be highly skeptical, if not suspicious of.  The Caucus of Working Educators does a great job spelling out some of the specific questions that arise from the skeleton of this plan here.

What I’m stuck on is the neoliberal feel of this initiative, and other plans like it.  It smacks of the very kind of individualistic, everyone-for-themselves, get-at-the-spoils-before-someone-else-does mindset that plagues so much of what the corporate reform project offers up to those of us who want to innovate how we do teaching and learning in our schools.  Because it is framed around scarcity (only a few winners!) at a time of great crisis (thousands more staffing layoffs? shortened school year? not opening schools on time?), I think that it preys upon people’s anxiety about the future of our schools, city and public education.  In doing so, it heightens an attitude of cut-throatedness that runs completely counter to the actual collaborative spirit that educators need in order to teach well, let alone to work with parents and community members as partners in redirecting our focus back toward equity and democracy in our schools. 

In many ways, the logic of this type of reform is not dissimilar from other wings of schools-as-business reform strategies -- like evaluating teachers primarily through test scores (why help Ms. Stewart next door when our kids’ test outcomes are now in competition with each other?), shuttering and/or turning “failing” schools over to outside charters (we have to show our school is better than XYZ Elementary down the block, so they take their school, not ours), and eliminating tenure (if I throw Mr. Matthews under the bus to please my principal, then he’ll get removed instead of me!). 

It feels like the Hunger Games of education.
May the odds be ever in my favor.  Not yours. 

But that doesn’t work.
Not in a classroom, where we require the input and insight from all of our colleagues to make sure we’re meeting our students’ full needs.
Not in a District, where we must stand together to show that we can’t withstand any more cuts.
And not in a city, where we are going to have to put our collective energy into wrestling back control over our schools and forcing our so-called leaders to deliver the resources our schools and our children need and deserve.  Or vote them out. 

So, if this is the Hunger Games, then I am heartened by one of the final moments in the second book/film, Catching Fire.

Katniss, the protagonist, is in the middle of the battlefield, feeling massively under attack, scared, and confused about her allegiances, strategy, and vision. 

She sees another contender, Finnick, and is about to shoot him.  He looks at her and says, “Katniss! Remember who the real enemy is.” 

And she looks at him, startled back into seeing the big picture, and fires her arrow up into the dome, into the Capitol’s wiring, blowing up the Power Structure itself. 

It’s well time that we, in Philadelphia, remember who the real enemy is, so we don’t allow ourselves to succumb to accepting this unconscionable funding picture, and then fight like dogs over the crumbs.  We need to see the bigger picture for what it is – a political house of cards being built over deals and extortion, sabotaging the city of Philadelphia, our School District, and me, as a working educator, from meeting our shared responsibility for teaching our young in safe, stable, supportive, and, if I may go so far as to say, joyful schools.

If we want to move forward on real transformation of our schools, that's the real target we need to aim our collective arrow at.  

Wednesday, January 22, 2014

When we give our students "real things" to do.

Our students are impressive.

Yes, that's right.  Our Philadelphia Public School students are incredibly impressive.  And talented.  And engaged.  And inspiring.

When we allow them the space to show what they really are capable of doing.

This month, my drama students at the Bodine High School for International Affairs were pushed to prove their maturity, talent, and artistic commitment, by working with professional NYC-based filmmaker, M. Asli Dukan to capture their monologue performances on camera.

 From the minute they entered the auditorium, these sophomore, junior, and senior students experienced an actual shoot -- going through the process of blocking their pieces for the camera, supporting each other to fully embody their characters, quieting-on-the-set, and rising to the challenge of pushing through their nerves and performing to the best of their abilities.

These are the types of experiences our students need more of -- as they serve as moments for young people to find their voice, feel proud of what they are able to accomplish, and develop the substantive self-esteem that keeps all teenagers on a path toward making healthy decisions to advance themselves.

These are the very reasons that the arts should never be cut from our schools.

I hope you enjoy my students' work.

Sydney - Dramatic piece about a formerly-enslaved woman whose babies were stolen from her.

Thalia - Dramatic piece about a woman who lost family members in the September 11th plane crashes. 

Ameerah -- Comedic piece about a young woman breaking up with her basketball playing boyfriend. 

Shakirah -- Dramatic piece spoken by the Joker from Batman: The Dark Knight. 

Santi -- Dramatic piece from the mother's perspective in the movie Precious. 

Freddy -- Dramatic piece from Of Mice and Men. 

Brianne -- Comedic piece about inter-galactic space travel and imperialism. 

Ana -- Comedic piece about a woman considering giving up chocolate. 

Nadirah -- Comedic/dramatic piece about a young woman breaking up with her partner. 

Sunday, January 5, 2014

Keynote Address for the Philadelphia Writing Project

Last month, I was given the incredible opportunity to give the Keynote Address and Lunchtime Seminar at the Philadelphia Writing Project's Annual Celebration of Writing and Literacy. I was able to speak to over a hundred of my peers and colleagues about reframing our role as teachers and committing ourselves to the types of collective action that our students, schools and sprits demand.

Below is the visual presentation from my talk on how teachers must work to defend and transform public education.

The thesis of my talk was that in this current moment in public education, where our schools & profession AND our students & communities are under attack by a corporate, neoliberal privatization agenda, we as teachers must rethink how we construct our classroom practices, model participatory citizenship in our jobs and in our lives, and engage in building up the network for teacher collective action to defend and transform public education.

I argued that we need to get very clear about the kind of world we want to live in, and therefore, become focused on the kind of world we are teaching toward.  And then we need to all play to our strengths, push forward the areas of work that most suit our talents, and make sure we are constantly networked alongside other teachers with a shared transformational vision.

Nothing short of this type of strategic and emergent collective action will be able to build the focused power we need to stop the assault on our students, schools and city.

Further, we undoubtedly must move beyond the "No!" of oppositional politics, and reclaim, reinvigorate and reorient our schools toward becoming sites where students practice the skills and strategies they'll need to solve the problems of the world they're inheriting.  To do this, teachers will have to engage in a deliberate personal and professional transformation of our own self-concept of what it means to be a teacher.

This work is already happening, and, in Philadelphia, the Teacher Action Group (TAG) is a major hub.

In this moment plagued by structural collapse, I am inspired, strengthened, and motivated to continue improving as a teacher and as an agent of change because of the collective action we're carving out as networked teachers within TAG.

I hope that others will join up and collectively move our city forward.

Friday, October 25, 2013

This is what leveling feels like.

Today is my last day as a teacher at my current school.  Strange, because my first day was less than 2 months ago...

In the latest moment of instability and money-saving by the School District of Philadelphia, schools went through the leveling process.  On paper, I guess it makes some sort of numbers-sense.  You have a teacher in a school where there are fewer students than the maximum class size specified under the contract.  You have another school where there are not enough teachers to make class size fall under the maximum level.  So, why not just swap them? 

There are a lot of reasons why this isn't just an easy fix type of procedure.  In my life, I can name 80 of them: my students. 

The truth is: Schools don't just work because of a computer program, or another mandated reading program, or a changeover in how teachers write objectives.  Schools work because of the strength of the relationships built up among staff, between staff and students and their parents. And when you destabilize and throw schools into the "churn" (as the Broad Foundation sketches out), is it really any wonder why students are not reaching their potential in the classroom? 

When a principal has to make tough choices to break up classes, consolidate groups of students, and move teachers out of the building, it is incredibly disruptive. But when she has to do it because a Governor is playing politics to break a union and not meet his constitutional duty to provide for a properly funded school system, it is the fallout from something criminal.

This week, I witnessed the fallout (again) of the Budget Crisis as it spread across my students' consciousness.    

They were bewildered: "Why would they take away a teacher who helps me?"
They were confused: "How am I going to get ready for high school without my reading teacher?"
They were angry: "Why do we have to sit in a class with double the students?  It'll be so distracting, and I won't be able to learn."
They were critical: "Isn't there anything we can do to keep you?  We'll write a petition.  We'll write to the governor.  We'll fundraise to keep you."
They were heartbroken: "Please don't leave us. Please!!!!!!"

And they got to work, writing the petition, making signs all over the school, trying to make their case to the principal -- not knowing that it really isn't her fault.  Parents called me and sent notes up to school.  My 7th grade students threw me a surprise going-away party, including buying pizza out of their own 12-year old finances.  I've been pummeled with more hugs than I know what to do with.  (I am literally hiding out right now during my prep period so that I don't run into any more sad children.  I don't know what to do with all of their emotional outpouring.)

My colleagues are amazing, and they'll figure out how to attempt to meet students' needs in a now-even-more-difficult scenario: fewer teachers, larger classsize, still no counselor, not enough special education teachers to fully support students. But it's not going to be easy -- and, trust me, it wasn't easy before, when I was still teaching here. 

But what stands out to me is that yet again, the students in Philadelphia are not getting what they need.  Class size matters, and we should be trying to figure out how to make class size as low as possible, not trying to shave off dollars by cramming as many students together as is contractually allowable. 

Further, the emotional fallout is real.  On my students, who lose teachers every year, and, in truth, are beginning to lose schools every year too.  On parents, who can't build deep relationships to help them feel anchored to a school community.  And to me, and all other teachers being bounced around year-to-year, who have to face sad children who are endlessly getting public goods that they deserve taken away from them at every turn. 

In the end, my students will be fine, just like every other batch of students I've had to leave in all the other schools I've been transferred out of.  And I'll be fine, as I've learned how to always land on my feet.  It is just another moment, on top of all the other moments this school system offer us, of grief for all of us to withstand, survive, and learn from about resilience. 

It's a shame that I have to be the one teaching that lesson. 

Wednesday, October 2, 2013

Who says 13 year olds can't think critically?

If we’ve spoken in the last month, then you know that I have suddenly been jettisoned into the belly of every high school teacher’s supreme nightmare: Middle School. 

Yes, that’s right, after 7 years teaching in a variety of High Schools across the city, I was brought back off the layoffs list with approximately 6 hours of lead time to teach 7th and 8th grade English. 

Are the horror stories true?  Are 7th grade girls really the most vicious creatures on Earth? Or is it just some sort of mythology to cover for the shortcomings of our science around what some call their adolescent Hormonal Toxic Shock Syndrome?

While I have countless stories of little girls and boys trying to show their affection through pulling hair and slapping each other.  And while I could tell you hilarious nonsequitur interruptions that seem to come out of the left field of their little developing brains.  Or about the oversized babies towering nearly 6 feet tall, but still falling into tantrums and tears when I so much as insinuate that they’re distracting the class… I actually want to share an amazing moment of spontaneous popular education that occurred today.

It was my post-lunch 8th grade English class.  We were supposed to be reading Toni Cade Bambara, but before I could tell them a page number, one girl, with pure earnestness, raised her hand and said, “Ms. Wawa, Could you explain to us about the economy?”

I looked around.  “You want to know about the shutdown?”

The whole class lit up, “Yes!”  “We don’t get it.”  “Could you break it down?”

So, in my happiest moment of pure teaching this year, I started to explain to them the process of developing a budget, how the US has been spending beyond our means – on things like the war and military and, locally, prisons.  We talked about the standoff between the Senate and the House Republicans.  We got into issues of racism and greed, of wrong priorities and what we want to see our tax dollars go to.  We discussed our own families’ health care needs, our foodstamps, our Headstart.  We shared stories of how much people already pay in taxes.  We zeroed in on an essential question:  How could the Republicans, with their fancy suits and six figures, be throwing a childish tantrum that affects all of us poor people in Philly?

Then, in a brilliant way to bring up the subject of wealth inequality, one boy asks, “But if all those rich people own Bugattis (a type of expensive car), and they pay, like a million dollars of taxes on it, then why doesn’t the US have enough money?”  Classic 8th grade misconception, but he was trying to get at something very deep.

I asked if they’d ever heard of the 1% and the 99%.  They hadn’t. 
I took a breath, wondering if we were ready to go there.  Their faces and you-could-hear-a-pin-drop attention showed me that we were.

I told 10 of them to grab their chairs and sit in the front of the classroom.  I told them that they all represented equal wealth distribution.  One person, one chair.

Then, I grabbed 2 of them, and made them squeeze down to sit on laps, and I gave their chairs to the person at the end, so that person could spread out. 

They looked at me, thinking, “Wait.  What is going on?”  The person at the end said that she, “felt very comfortable,” and put her feet up.

Then, I grabbed 2 more of them, and made them go find a place to squeeze in.  I gave their chairs to the original person.  Now that person had half the chairs, and the rest of the 9 people had to find a place on the other half.  I asked what was going on.

They said, “Hey. That’s not fair.  The wealthy person doesn’t deserve all that.”

I asked what they were going to do about it.  Some kids jumped up and tried to steal back the chair that they used to sit on.  I hired another student to be the police, and had those kids locked up.

And then I took 2 more chairs.  Now the wealthy person had 70% of the wealth.  The bottom 9 people were squeezing onto 3 chairs, or 30% of the wealth.  Well, minus the 2 people who were now incarcerated.

We concluded the exercise, and I had them all sit down.   I asked them what thoughts or feelings came up. 

Some said that they were angry, and wanted to act out.  I asked them, when there isn’t much wealth or many jobs to go around to you, what do you do?  A lot of them said that’s when they would start robbing or trapping (selling drugs.)  I said, “Yeah.  Have you noticed that a lot more people have been put in prison in the last 20 years than before?  There’s a connection between not having jobs and money and doing things that get you locked up.”

Some were baffled, “What did the rich person do to get so rich?”  “They had way more than they needed, and we didn’t have enough.  Who would live like that?”  “Is this why those Republicans are trying to shut down the government?  To keep more of the money than they actually need?”

We discussed investing, corporate greed, and political kickbacks.  They all speculated that Mayor Nutter gets free Comcast cable at his house, so that’s why there’s a tax abatement on their building downtown.  This made me laugh.  And then they wondered why the Mayor would prioritize building a new skating rink downtown when we don’t even have a counselor at our school.  This made me tell them that they should set the priorities.

And then, the million dollar question: “Ms. Weinraub.  How do we undo this?  How can we spread the chairs back out so that we all get our share, not just the wealthy?”

I looked at him, and then at the whole class and said the only truth I could offer:  “That’s what your generation is going to have to answer.  That’s the world you’re going to have to make right.” 

So even if tomorrow I have to untangle gum from a girl’s hair or put away the hand sanitizer so boys won’t pour it in each others’ eyes, today I was reminded of the possibilities of helping build critical thought in people just starting to put the pieces together. 

And that’s why we as teachers can’t let the Testing Regime standardize our young people into bubbles to fill in.  This is an unjust, broken, polluted world, and we absolutely need these young people to be developing the skills and strategies they’re going to need to solve the problems of the world they’re inheriting. 

For more info on the chair activity, check out:

Monday, September 2, 2013

Solidarity isn't just a word; it's hard work.

My speech from tonight's meeting.  (If I had been allowed to give it in full.) 

There is a historic battle in front of us.  

It is a battle against a well funded machine. A machine that is taking aim at public education, workers' rights, black and brown people, poor people, our students.

We are facing an urgent and immediate crisis, yes. I believe that our bargaining team will continue to work to get a contract we deserve – but that is not the end.  That is just the beginning

We are at a tipping point. 

More than ever we can see the damage done to our public education system through our politicians’ utter abandonment,  the rampant expansion of charters and privatization, a coordinated attack on working people and our rights and wages, and a complete disinvestment in our students. 

When we push through what we’re facing today, there will still be countless more battles to fight in this war to save and transform public education.  And we, as teachers, as counselors, as educators, as school staff, as rank and file members of the PFT– we must see ourselves as real leaders in this fight.  

We MUST learn to grow our power and wield our power.

So I say to you, WE ARE THE PFT.  WE need to take responsibility for what that means.  It starts by going in tomorrow, talking to every colleague we see, making a coordinated plan at our school level about how we are going to breathe life back into our chapters, empower ourselves as educators, and be engaged in ways we haven’t had to over the last decade.

We are going to have to take on the work of building up our relationships within our schools, between our schools, across the city, with our fellow PFT members and with the parents and students at our schools.  

No one is going to do it for us.

Solidarity is not just a word to throw around.  Solidarity is a lot of hard work in order to bring back the spirit, the unity, and the courage we’re going to need to make our schools stronger for the next week, the next month, the next year.  

So I ask you, rank and file members of the PFT, I ask you President Jordan and the executive committee, I ask you – What are we willing to do? 

We must make a plan to strategically leverage the power of our numbers so that we disrupt business as usual and force the hand of decision-makers.  In order to get there, we need to trust that we have leaders at the school-based level and build towards the kind of democracy that invests in developing that type of leadership from below. 

We must GROW and WIELD OUR POWER to:
-       - Force back the egregious anti-student, anti-teacher concessions the SRC is trying to push on us.
-       - Force the Mayor to act like a leader and go to Harrisburg to get the funding our kids deserve.
-      -  Force Corbett out of office, and find a real leader to stop playing politics with our kids’ lives and put together a full and fair funding formula.
-       - To get in front of the next round of school closures that are coming for us, to stop the rampant expansion of charters and privatization, and to ultimately get rid of the SRC.

That is the war in front of us. 

It starts tonight.  It starts with us building that plan toward broad, unified, and militant action that involves every one of our 15,000 members.

What are we willing to do to take the steps to build that plan?