The city in which I currently live (for the next 3 -4 weeks, anyway) is notorious for its traffic. I'm living due east of town, and my kids live due north of it. There are two options, equally awful, for going from my place to theirs - highway west into the center of town then another highway north through town, or the loop going widdershins around town. Both are about 30 minutes without traffic and 1 1/2 hours in a normal rush-hour.
Which, as it turns out, starts at 3:30 PM.
E has baseball games that start at 6 and KB has swim meets that start at 5:30. What working parent could possibly take their kid to these things, since the participants are supposed to be there an hour early? Are all swim teams composed entirely of kids with a stay-at-home parent? Also, swim meets require about 237 volunteers, and take at least 9 hours to complete. Every lane needs a starter, a timer and another person to do something official-looking with a clipboard, plus there are bullpen-watchers for each age group (of which there are about 30), shepherds to take the kids from the bullpen to the lanes when it's their turn to swim, and 10 or 15 other people who ferry information back and forth as quickly as possible for no apparent reason, since the score of the meet is never mentioned during the event, and the winner is typically announced a couple of days later by email. Because the meets are so long, they have two sets of volunteers, one for the first half of the meet and one set for the second half. I thought hockey parents, who take their kids to the rink at 3:30 AM because that's the only ice time the pewee peewee* group can get, were dedicated. But if you have a kid who has been on a swim team for more than 2 years, you're either a saint or you've stopped attending their meets.
Anyway, I now head for the north of town at about 2 PM whenever I have to be there for a game or meet, and hang out in the air-conditioned, free wireless-accessible branch library. Not sure why I needed to write that down, but there it is. And here I am, waiting for 5:30.
*Scrabble fails me once again. PEWEE is a perfectly acceptable word, a fact I happened to know. Unfortunately, a PEWEE is a type of bird, not an alternate spelling of PEEWEE, a fact I clearly didn't know.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Bummin'
Tough day for the home team. As noted earlier, the position at the high school I have been trying to contact has apparently been filled. Moreover, 4 of the 5 positions in the largest county in the area are no longer listed, presumably meaning they also have been filled. Meanwhile, no one has even contacted me for an interview here in Current State.
I also have gotten no word recently from anyone in Home State, although that's less concerning because of my previous conversations with them. Looks like I may be moving back to Home State come the end of the summer.
I also have gotten no word recently from anyone in Home State, although that's less concerning because of my previous conversations with them. Looks like I may be moving back to Home State come the end of the summer.
Monday, June 15, 2009
Saturday, June 13, 2009
School Visit II
Virtually every county is very clear regarding what applicants should do once they have submitted all of their information and applied for the open positions listed on the county's website: "Don't call us, we'll call you." One county in particular goes out of its way to (a) post this instruction in every possible place one might conceivably search for ways to contact people, and (b) give as many reasons as they can think of to justify themselves.
However, one county explicitly states that applicants are welcome to contact the principals at the schools to which they've applied in order to set up interviews. Apparently the HR folks in that county's DOE got tired of fielding calls from frustrated applicants asking about their status despite all the warnings against doing exactly that. Or else there is an enormous conspiracy to make the process of applying to several counties as confusing as possible, and this county volunteered to make its contact process different from every other one on earth. I don't entirely discount the conspiracy theory -- it explains many, many aspects of this farkakteh process.
Anyway, I've been trying to reach the principal of one particular school in Outlier County for about 3 weeks. The first dozen or so times I called, I got a busy signal, or no signal at all and a "Congestion" notice on my phone, something I'd never seen before. I finally got through, only to learn the principal's position was open, and the task of hiring a math teacher would be falling to someone else. I left a message for the fill-in. No response for several days. I called back, eventually getting the office again. Another message, plus a recommendation from the office person to write her an email. Email sent. No response to either the message or the email. More office-calling, this time without actually getting through to the office. So I drove to the school.
There was scaffolding all around the original building, the skeleton of another building being erected next to the main one and a couple of dozen men in hard hats hanging out in various vestibules. I walked in, figuring the office would still be open. No one anywhere. I wandered through the school for about 10 minutes, thoroughly enjoying the opportunity to look around -- it was a high school created straight from my imagination of what one should look like. (Think lots of brick, several stories, lockers in the hallway, etc.)
I eventually walked back outside and found a person walking behind the building who appeared to be administrative. (No, I don't know what would constitute an "administrative-looking" person.) Turns out, the admin staff is holed up in a couple of trailers in the parking lot for the duration of the construction, and is sharing a single phone, which explains the inability to get through. Unfortunately, Ms. Fill-In was in an "all day off-site meeting," and thus unavailable. I tried to make an appointment but got only a promise that she would be given my hand-written message regarding my desire to meet with her.
That was Thursday. No contact yet. But now I know where she is, so she can't escape without eventually talking to me.
However, one county explicitly states that applicants are welcome to contact the principals at the schools to which they've applied in order to set up interviews. Apparently the HR folks in that county's DOE got tired of fielding calls from frustrated applicants asking about their status despite all the warnings against doing exactly that. Or else there is an enormous conspiracy to make the process of applying to several counties as confusing as possible, and this county volunteered to make its contact process different from every other one on earth. I don't entirely discount the conspiracy theory -- it explains many, many aspects of this farkakteh process.
Anyway, I've been trying to reach the principal of one particular school in Outlier County for about 3 weeks. The first dozen or so times I called, I got a busy signal, or no signal at all and a "Congestion" notice on my phone, something I'd never seen before. I finally got through, only to learn the principal's position was open, and the task of hiring a math teacher would be falling to someone else. I left a message for the fill-in. No response for several days. I called back, eventually getting the office again. Another message, plus a recommendation from the office person to write her an email. Email sent. No response to either the message or the email. More office-calling, this time without actually getting through to the office. So I drove to the school.
There was scaffolding all around the original building, the skeleton of another building being erected next to the main one and a couple of dozen men in hard hats hanging out in various vestibules. I walked in, figuring the office would still be open. No one anywhere. I wandered through the school for about 10 minutes, thoroughly enjoying the opportunity to look around -- it was a high school created straight from my imagination of what one should look like. (Think lots of brick, several stories, lockers in the hallway, etc.)
I eventually walked back outside and found a person walking behind the building who appeared to be administrative. (No, I don't know what would constitute an "administrative-looking" person.) Turns out, the admin staff is holed up in a couple of trailers in the parking lot for the duration of the construction, and is sharing a single phone, which explains the inability to get through. Unfortunately, Ms. Fill-In was in an "all day off-site meeting," and thus unavailable. I tried to make an appointment but got only a promise that she would be given my hand-written message regarding my desire to meet with her.
That was Thursday. No contact yet. But now I know where she is, so she can't escape without eventually talking to me.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Who Makes Up These Rules?
As I do virtually every day, I checked today each of the several counties in Current State to which I've sent applications to see if (a) there are additional jobs posted to which I might apply and (b) anything has changed with respect to my application status. I finally noticed today that my "certification status" was a little strange in one of the counties to which I've applied. It's hard to describe exactly what was strange -- it would take several paragraphs just to describe the various possible status messages, and a couple of dozen more to explain precisely what my certification status really is, but trust me, the status message was strange. Not strange enough that I was really worried about it, which is why I hadn't noticed it before. But now I'm paranoid. So I called the county DOE and asked about it. They replied that they had no verification that I'd passed the Basic Skills portion of the State ACE. That was annoying, since it meant my application had been languishing in the county DOE (and not sent to principals who could decide whether to interview me) for at least 3 months, but okay...
"This is no problem," I said -- "I exempted from the Basic Skills portion by virtue of my ACT scores, which are reported on my first undergraduate school's transcript, which you have." I even told them where to find the ACT scores on the transcript. "Great," she replied, and we hung up. To her everlasting credit, she called back. But the news was bad. "They didn't report your individual English and Math scores on the ACT," she tells me, and I need a combined 42 to be exempt.
"Um, yeah, but you'll notice it lists the percentile I acheived. It's 93rd in English, and 99th in Math, overall 98th. Surely 98th percentile will get me through?"
"No, that's not good enough."
"98th percentile isn't good enough? What does it take?"
"We need your combined score to be higher than 42."
"OK, well, you'll notice the 'comprehensive' score is 30. That's the average of the two scores. Which means I had no worse than a 59 combined. So that gets me in, right?"
"No, that's not good enough. You have to have two scores that add to more than 42."
"I do. I have two scores that add up to something that, when divided by 2, equals 30. Which makes those two scores, added together, more than 42."
"That's not good enough." (Honest... she told me this 3 times. I probably would have let it go if she had said "Yes, but that's not what we need," or "We need the actual scores," or even "Yes, it's absurd, but it's a requirement.")
Sigh. Now I have the thrill of getting my ACTs or SATs from the college testing board, expedited. More red tape, more red numbers in my bank account. I never, ever want to hear anyone complain about the bureaucracy within the company at which they work. Unless they work for the government, or they want to hear 3 hours of "I can top that" stories.
"This is no problem," I said -- "I exempted from the Basic Skills portion by virtue of my ACT scores, which are reported on my first undergraduate school's transcript, which you have." I even told them where to find the ACT scores on the transcript. "Great," she replied, and we hung up. To her everlasting credit, she called back. But the news was bad. "They didn't report your individual English and Math scores on the ACT," she tells me, and I need a combined 42 to be exempt.
"Um, yeah, but you'll notice it lists the percentile I acheived. It's 93rd in English, and 99th in Math, overall 98th. Surely 98th percentile will get me through?"
"No, that's not good enough."
"98th percentile isn't good enough? What does it take?"
"We need your combined score to be higher than 42."
"OK, well, you'll notice the 'comprehensive' score is 30. That's the average of the two scores. Which means I had no worse than a 59 combined. So that gets me in, right?"
"No, that's not good enough. You have to have two scores that add to more than 42."
"I do. I have two scores that add up to something that, when divided by 2, equals 30. Which makes those two scores, added together, more than 42."
"That's not good enough." (Honest... she told me this 3 times. I probably would have let it go if she had said "Yes, but that's not what we need," or "We need the actual scores," or even "Yes, it's absurd, but it's a requirement.")
Sigh. Now I have the thrill of getting my ACTs or SATs from the college testing board, expedited. More red tape, more red numbers in my bank account. I never, ever want to hear anyone complain about the bureaucracy within the company at which they work. Unless they work for the government, or they want to hear 3 hours of "I can top that" stories.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Update
Traveled to Home State last week for a meeting of the career-changers program 'winners' (i.e., those of us who made it through the process to be officially in the program). The program director went out of her way (again) to note that some of the people in the program probably won't be placed in a school until as late as January. However, this time, she went out of her way to indicate that I, with an interest in high school math, and already qualified to begin teaching (by virtue of an undergraduate degree in the subject), will not encounter that problem, but will instead be assured of a place in the classroom in September. So that's good news.
Of course, I really want to be in Current State because that's where E and KB are, but it's good to know I have a place to work come September even if nothing comes through in Current State. My expectations in that regard have swung back to believing I may not get an offer in Current State -- many counties are increasing class size and taking other measures to reduce costs, given the current economic climate, along with the fact that state revenues are down dramatically from last year, with no immediate prospect for improvement on that score. In fact, some counties are now reducing the property value assessments (because, of course, property values are in fact way down), which will further reduce school funding.
Meanwhile, I've been studying for the General Knowledge portion of the ACE for Home State. I am exempt from that portion of the exam in Current State by virtue of my SAT and ACT scores from 30 years ago, but Home State insists teachers actually take the test. I bought a study guide, expecting to sail through it and then take the laughably easy actual test. Not so fast, my friend. Yes, the math portion is laughably easy. But the reading portion is not so much hard as very tricky. The drill is to read a passage of 2 - 3 paragraphs, then answer several multiple-choice questions about it. Should be a piece of cake... but the choices are not 3 wrong answers and one correct one, they're typically along the lines of one wrong answer, 2 correct but very specific answers and one correct but more general answer. They're looking for the generalization. Or they ask what the passage implies, then give a wrong answer, a couple of answers that are directly stated in the passage, and one answer that is borderline, but potentially implied. They're looking for that one.
Similarly for the vocabulary / grammar section. I was expecting "Find the error in the sentence: She gave the test to John and I." Instead, I get "The main concerns of the mostly aristocratic clergy must be the evocation of piety among the congregation and overseeing good works in the community." Hmm... 'evocation of piety' seems goofy, but I can't find a grammatical error there. Could 'mostly aristocratic clergy' be flawed? Is it possible to be mostly aristocratic? Maybe the issue is that the sentence doesn't make it clear whether most of the clergy are aristocratic or that all of them are partially aristocratic. Or maybe 'evocation' is wrong. Does VOCATION have two front hooks? Damn, I should have studied the eight-to-make-nine stems harder, back when I was playing Scrabble. Nope. Turns out, the error here is that the clause structure doesn't match -- the clergy's concerns should be either "evoking / overseeing" or "the evocation / the oversight." Great. I'm clearly unqualified to be a high school math teacher unless I can immediately spot and correct that kind of shoddy sentence construction by my students. How else can they hope to succeed in a world in which the national conversation is on a level characterized by Senator Grassley's (R - IA) Twitter post of June 7, 2009 (reproduced verbatim below)?
"Pres Obama you got nerve while u sightseeing in Paris to tell us 'time to deliver' on health care. We still on skedul/even workinWKEND."
I remain, for the moment, on skedul, but refusing to be workinWKEND.
Of course, I really want to be in Current State because that's where E and KB are, but it's good to know I have a place to work come September even if nothing comes through in Current State. My expectations in that regard have swung back to believing I may not get an offer in Current State -- many counties are increasing class size and taking other measures to reduce costs, given the current economic climate, along with the fact that state revenues are down dramatically from last year, with no immediate prospect for improvement on that score. In fact, some counties are now reducing the property value assessments (because, of course, property values are in fact way down), which will further reduce school funding.
Meanwhile, I've been studying for the General Knowledge portion of the ACE for Home State. I am exempt from that portion of the exam in Current State by virtue of my SAT and ACT scores from 30 years ago, but Home State insists teachers actually take the test. I bought a study guide, expecting to sail through it and then take the laughably easy actual test. Not so fast, my friend. Yes, the math portion is laughably easy. But the reading portion is not so much hard as very tricky. The drill is to read a passage of 2 - 3 paragraphs, then answer several multiple-choice questions about it. Should be a piece of cake... but the choices are not 3 wrong answers and one correct one, they're typically along the lines of one wrong answer, 2 correct but very specific answers and one correct but more general answer. They're looking for the generalization. Or they ask what the passage implies, then give a wrong answer, a couple of answers that are directly stated in the passage, and one answer that is borderline, but potentially implied. They're looking for that one.
Similarly for the vocabulary / grammar section. I was expecting "Find the error in the sentence: She gave the test to John and I." Instead, I get "The main concerns of the mostly aristocratic clergy must be the evocation of piety among the congregation and overseeing good works in the community." Hmm... 'evocation of piety' seems goofy, but I can't find a grammatical error there. Could 'mostly aristocratic clergy' be flawed? Is it possible to be mostly aristocratic? Maybe the issue is that the sentence doesn't make it clear whether most of the clergy are aristocratic or that all of them are partially aristocratic. Or maybe 'evocation' is wrong. Does VOCATION have two front hooks? Damn, I should have studied the eight-to-make-nine stems harder, back when I was playing Scrabble. Nope. Turns out, the error here is that the clause structure doesn't match -- the clergy's concerns should be either "evoking / overseeing" or "the evocation / the oversight." Great. I'm clearly unqualified to be a high school math teacher unless I can immediately spot and correct that kind of shoddy sentence construction by my students. How else can they hope to succeed in a world in which the national conversation is on a level characterized by Senator Grassley's (R - IA) Twitter post of June 7, 2009 (reproduced verbatim below)?
"Pres Obama you got nerve while u sightseeing in Paris to tell us 'time to deliver' on health care. We still on skedul/even workinWKEND."
I remain, for the moment, on skedul, but refusing to be workinWKEND.
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