timing is everything

It was Brown Night at the Chuck E. Cheese; impolitic to say but true. For certain federal funds to be disbursed to schools the government requires an annual parent meeting of the ESL students; it's almost like Miranda-- these are your rights, these are our procedures, this is what we'd like to do. The guidelines don't mention pizza, but nothing brings them in like free food, unless of course it's tokens. It's nice in a way to offer these families dinner and games in exchange for a signature and a few minutes of attention; I don't begrudge any positive associations, the ease in any parent's budget, or any child's fun. I can't, however, help but calculate that the price of this endeavor for the 177 who attended was more than has been allocated to me and my classroom for the past six years. Total. And yes, that is indeed pitiful. Such are our priorities. Or someone's or no one's, the latter probably more true and more maddening.

Speaking of which, next week the great state testing window opens, No Child Left Behind in all its infamous glory. For reasons unexplained and possibly irrational, my school is now leaping out of the gate immediately. The upshot is that I'll be mingling with 6,000 other ESL teachers in New York City while my 10th and 11th graders will be mired in science and math. Sucks to be them--and possibly me as I try to get them accommodated before I get out of town. (Insert your own "leaving them behind" joke about here.) I have minimal hope that my instructions will be followed, but at least whatever happens won't be my problem, or at least I won't be a witness. Or, bottom line, at least it doesn't really matter. "Do your best, don't stress," I tell everyone affected. They look doubtful. The tests are daunting, and no one likes to feel stupid. "I'll try to find someone we trust." They remain unconvinced. The subs are strangers, and no one likes to be embarrassed, most of all a teenager. They're just accustomed to me. And it's such a long, stupid and pointless day. Mostly no one wants to do it, their teacher included. "Or if nothing else," I tease, begin to embrace the gift of running away, "be good and I'll bring you a souvenir."