Read-A-Thon!!!

Students reading the morning of the Read-A-Thon during breakfast

(before the competition started!)

Henderson Collegiate (where I teach) is a literacy based school - we believe that, in the education world, the achievement gap is a literacy gap. This was truly manifested at my old school. A lot of my high school students could not read very well and less than 5% of my students read for fun. This creates deficiencies in vocabulary, grammar, writing, and in reality, a child's ability to learn. At my new school students are taught from day one how important it is to be a reader. Every night they read for 35 minutes (and have a parent sign off that they read, the number of pages, and then book that they read), every day at school students read whenever they have extra time. They read during breakfast, some of them during lunch, after finishing classwork and when waiting in line to use the bathroom.

Pre-competition interviews. That's right - sweatbands and headbands.

Yesterday, we had a 4 hour Read-A-Thon. Students sought out sponsors who agreed to pay them for the amount of time that they read - anywhere from $1-$3 an hour as a fundraiser for our reading department. They came dressed in sweatpants (some of them sweat bands too), a pillow, and armed with a pile of books. The rules were clear - you stop reading, you're out. This included looking away from a page for ANYTHING (blowing their nose, teachers dancing and singing trying to distract them, switching positions, etc.) or for falling asleep.

Mr. Carson scanning the room for kids to tap out

A student "in the zone"

(side note - the only white student in the 5th grade)

Amazingly, over half of the students at our school read for the FULL 4 hours. Never looking away from their book, always reading (even when switching to a new book, shifting positions on the cold floor, or raising their hand for a tissue). I know you probably get tired of me saying it, but my kids are AMAZING!!!

Students reading during the Read-A-Thon - notice the hard floor

Mamma always told me...

If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say nothin' at all.

The Most Amazing Essay...EVER!!!

I know I've said it before, but kids at Henderson Collegiate really are amazing. They work hard and they are starting to understand life lessons. It so neat to actually witness the evolution and development of their minds.

Recently in writing class the kids wrote essays on a time in their life when they were disappointed. As they were finishing up the final draft I happened to see an exemplar essay from one of our top students about how she failed a science test. I have included the essay below, if anything else, take a look at the cover page. Amazing.

Top 11 of 2011

2011 was an interesting year. If I had to sum it up in one word, it'd be...UNEXPECTED(ING). For example, I didn't expect to abandon plans to attend law school again. Celeste didn't expect to teach a third year, and she didn't expect she'd leave her school and find a new one. I certainly didn't expect to stay in education - that surprised even me. I didn't expect (and I don't think anyone did) that the USU football team would have a winning season and go to a bowl game. I didn't expect Mission Impossible 4 would be so disappointing, or the Sherlock Holmes sequel to be so...uh...appointing. And while the world around us seems to be expecting (sisters Sarah, Bonnie, and Jen), we are....(drum roll, please)....UN-expecting. (And I'm not expecting a dog any time soon, either).

So with that as a tantalizing backdrop, I reveal to you the Top 11 of 2011, the 4th part in an ongoing series of blog entries highlighting the biggest and the best stories (in no particular order) from our lives over the past twelve months. Enjoy.

1. Mamma Britt Comes to North Carolina

When Cindy Britt turned 38 last year, her husband (who poses as a paleontologist but secretly works for Obama's re-election campaign) decided to get her the greatest birthday present of all time - a trip to visit her favorite daughter and son-in-law in North Carolina. The week was filled with magic and wonder. For starters, we ate at Cookout, a glorious experience on its own. Then we took Cindy on a tour of fancy Henderson and our luxurious schools. Then we spent the weekend at the Emerald Isle Coast lazying it up on the beach in the hot summer sun, and topped it all off with a Durham Bulls game. I can't wait till Obama is re-elected so Brooks will get that "victory bonus" and send Cindy out again.

2. Meeting a Hero

In February, I attended Teach For America's 20-year Anniversary Summit in Washington, D.C. It was a star-studded event. That is, if you consider political, educational, and social leaders "stars." During the 3-day summit, I met and heard from some very famous and influential people (TFA founder Wendy Kopp, Michelle Rhee from "Waiting for Superman," author Malcolm Gladwell, and U.S. Secretary of Education Arne Duncan). But the highlight of the summit came on day two when I had the opportunity to listen to, then MEET John Lewis.

That name may not ring a lot of bells - John Lewis is a current member of the U.S House of Representatives. But what makes him a hero of mine is not what he's done as a politician, but what he did as a young activist in the Civil Rights Movement. He participated in sit-ins and Freedom Rides, he spoke at the March on Washington and helped to start SNCC, the student arm of the movement. He was a close personal friend of Dr. King, and is probably the most underrated contributor to racial equality from those turbulent years in American history. On top of all that, he's the author of one of my all-time favorite books, Walking With the Wind.

3. No-go Lawyer, Yes-go Principal

In 2009, I turned down the opportunity to go to law school to pursue a wild experiment in public service with Teach for America. In 2011, that wild experiment was supposed to come to an end, and return me to my previously chosen path of becoming a lawyer/bigshot. But the fates wouldn't allow it, and in 2011, with the same law schools offering me admission (and a few new ones as well), I turned away from the path of law once again to pursue a master's degree in school administration. I am currently in my first year of something called the Northeast Leadership Academy, which is basically like a special fellowship program within N.C. State's College of Education that puts emerging education leaders on the fast-track to becoming principals.

So how's it going so far, one semester into this new wild experiment? When people ask me if I like the program, I tell them "No....I LOVE it." And I do.

4. The Strange New World of HENDERSON COLLEGIATE

After two years of teaching in Vance County, Celeste and I were well-accustomed to breaking up fights, dishing out failing grades, and recognizing the all-too-familiar aroma of reefer. And while I'm still in the midst of the aforementioned elements, Celeste has entered a strange new world of teaching where students greet you with a handshake, tell you what year they graduate from high school, and where they plan on attending college. Celeste took a new teaching position this year at Henderson Collegiate, a charter school in the same town we've been working in for two years.

Henderson Collegiate is amazing. It's just a great school. Celeste is also amazing. Therefore, the marriage between the two has been, well, amazing. Celeste's kids ADORE her. Seriously. They ache for her approval. They get giddy if they're assigned after-school tutoring. When she asks a question, virtually every student puts their hands in the air. You heard me. Hands. Two of them. It's like it's American Idol in there and Celeste is David Archuleta.

5. La Republica Dominicana - En Vivo!

This trip was amazing, both for the fact that the DR is an incredible place to visit, and because we had gone three months without a day off from school. It was as good as morphine to wash away the pains that come from life in the education trenches.

While staying at an all-inclusive resort is nice, our favorite moments from the trip came when we adventured away from the all you can eat bacon and virgin pina coladas. Whether it was taking a motorcycle taxi to downtown Puerto Penasco, riding ATVs through the jungle, or cliff jumping down the 27 Charcos de Damajagua, we always came away with a smile.

6. Welcome to Wake Forest

After two years of living in the quiet rural town of Oxford, NC, this summer we moved to Wake Forest to be closer to N.C. State for my graduate program. Wake Forest, a suburb of Raleigh, is a GREAT place to live. Just the other day I told Celeste while driving through the historic district, "I heart Wake Forest."

Wake Forest itself was a big improvement, but moving from a tiny apartment to a cute little house has probably been the single biggest factor in the improvement in our quality of life over the last twelve months. The house itself isn't much, but it's a beautiful thing to have neighbors, a lawn to tend, and to not have the smell of stale cigarettes seep through the drywall every time you use the dryer.

7. The Unlikely Success of Aggie Football

We watched or listened to every single Aggie football game this season. And while six of those games ended in classic Aggie heartbreak, seven of them went in our favor, and that is something for us USU fans to celebrate.

The Aggies first winning football season also allowed me to go to the Famous Idaho Potato Bowl. The game itself didn't end well, but it was worth it to see my family, including my new niece Sadie and my sister Josie, who had recently returned from her mission in Oakland, California. Sitting next to Josie at the bowl game was hilarious. About halfway through the game she confessed to me that she had absolutely no idea what was going on, and that she just cheered or booed when the rest of us did. It's funny how different we are in that way. By that point in the game I had already suffered three minor heart attacks, and had lost several clumps of hair.

8. Divorcing Dessert

Ten days into 2011, I came to a very simple conclusion: I consume too much sugar. Like, way too much. Like, unless someone is there to stop me, I will "accidentally" eat an entire plate of brownies by myself. It's ridiculous, but not surprising, as I was raised by two well-known sugar addicts.

So, in an effort to curb my dependence on the white gold, I issued myself a challenge: no candy or dessert for rest of the year (except for a single piece of birthday cake). As of today, I have yet to indulge on a single Skittle or slice of pie, but that will all change tonight when I break my confectionary fast. CAN'T WAIT!!!

9. Summer in the Wild West

We had a great trip out west over the summer. We spent time in Utah, Oregon, and Washington. It was filled with wakeboarding (my favorite), family reunions, rock climbing, and anxious hours of being a passenger in a car piloted by this man:

The best part of the trip was definitely the Oregon Coast. After a few hiccups with a mighty hailstorm and a few bouts of car-sickness, the Britt family descended upon the overcast beaches of the Pacific Northwest like ants on a discarded Twinkie. We tested our hand at cheerleading, played in the sand dunes, and even raced crabs in the low tide. But let's be honest, folks. 90% of the trip was dedicated to and focused upon Lynlee, our princess niece who exceeds the traditional definition of "cute" or "adorable". She is angelically precious, and precociously hilarious, and unquestionably in charge.

10. Autumn in Appalachia

"I want to see mountains again, mountains Gandalf!" Now there's something we and little Bilbo Baggins have in common (that and the feet). Mountains are one of the things we miss the most about Utah. But luckily, the Appalachians aren't far, and for Halloween this year, we took a trip with our good friends Pat and Sarah O'Shea to see them. And not only did we see them, but we saw them at the peak of the fall colors, and that was a truly picturesque experience. There was something magical about being there, like the mountains were speaking to our souls.

11. A New York Christmas

A tradition now two years running, we spent Christmas with our New York family this year instead of going to Utah (only because we're going out there in March for Josie's wedding. Huzzah!) Dan and Jeanne Cooper, Celeste's uncle and aunt, could easily win awards for hospitality. We ate like kings, slept like babies, and were spoiled like an only grandchild.

After a few days in upstate New York we headed south and endured two exhausting days in the city, spending time sightseeing and hanging out with my cousin Danny. It was a great time, but sometimes I wonder how I could have idolized the Big Apple like I did when I lived there as a brash and naive 18-year old. After the claustrophobia of Times Square and a subway car decorated with homeless people and scented with urine potpourri, we were both very happy to return to the Tar Heel State.

Henderson Collegiate prepares for the Holidays

The weeks leading up to Christmas break Henderson Collegiate had one goal - blow the audience away at our annual Parent Pride Night. PPN is an evening of entertainment put on by the students at HC. The fourth graders performed academic chants - including chanting ALL the times tables in rhyme and telling the story of Frindle, one of their class novels. The fifth grade put on an original play - A Christmas Carol in a version written by my team leader about how Scrooge hates reading. We honestly practiced about 3 hours A DAY for three weeks. I was in charge of the props and the back drops. I designed 5 sets (they are SOO impressive) and the kids painted them. They play may not have been perfect, but it taught our students a valuable lesson. If you want something to be great you MAKE it great. These kids worked their hearts out and got to experience the feeling of satisfaction that comes from putting in the effort to make something amazing.

I have attached below a 10 min clip of the play, it was about 25 mins long. If any of you are DYING to see the rest, just let me know and I'll include more in a future blog.

And now, in their YouTube debut, here is Henderson Collegiate performing their version of A Christmas Carol.

Simply Having a Wonderful Christmas Time!!!

Our Festive Fireplace!

The Saturday after Thanksgiving Jackson and I really got into the Holiday spirit. We spent the day prepping our house for Christmas. We have a beautiful fireplace that we strung with an evergreen garland, I picked up a fresh Christmas tree, and Jackson hung lights on our cute little house. It was an all day effort! After I finished stringing the lights on the tree and Jackson returned the latter to a neighbor we decided enough was enough. We thought it would be nice if we saved trimming the tree for family night or other evening together.

Our Holiday House after Saturday's efforts!

Monday came and went. No ornaments on the tree. Before we knew it, another weekend was upon us. Friday after school we were determined to have a festive evening - watch Elf and trim the tree. We grossly over-estimated our energy level after a long work week. We popped in Elf at around 7:00 and before we were ten minutes in, we were both sound asleep on our loveseat. Don't you hate it when you fall asleep on the couch??? Sometime in the midde of the night we drug ourselves to bed.

Last night there were no if's, and's or but's about it. That evergreen was transformed into a Chistmas tree. Below are some pictures of the results.

A creepy picture of me decking the halls... can you guess the photographer of the evening?

Ahh, me enjoying the finished product: a trimmed tree, Elf and a cup of hot cocoa!

Now the Holiday Season can officially begin!

The Third Year

The following is an excerpt from a book I haven't written yet. One day, one day... (general warning: this is not a cozy, heartwarming, family friendly blog entry. Just sayin'.)

Everything started out so well. The year was full of promise. I was going to be a third-year teacher, and everyone in teaching knows that your third year is supposed to be your best. The first year is a mess for a number of reasons. The second is where you make several calculated corrections, improving your teaching skills and quality of life enormously. But the third year is where you really hit your stride…at least, that’s what they tell me.

I can't say that I was taken by surprise when things started to go south. In fact, there were several tangible warning shots fired across my face early on that should have awakened my fears and brought out the survivalist in me. There was the fact that we lost four teaching positions due to massive state-mandated budget cuts, increasing the average class size from seventeen to twenty-eight. There was the fact that our new science teacher was new to America, new to teaching, and had a Jamaican accent so thick that even I could hardly understand him. But the most foreboding telltale sign of them all was the fact that Mr. Fenner, the former Marine Corps drill sergeant-turned-principal, was going to "take care of the 8th grade personally," rather than have one of his assistant principals do the job.

"If you have any problems with any students on your team, Mr. Olsen, you send them to me." Mr. Fenner's rough and booming voice sounded like it still belonged on the exercise fields of a military base.

"Sounds good," I said. And it did.

Now I understand how confusing this may sound to an outsider, especially an outsider unfamiliar with the inner workings of Henderson Middle School. When the head honcho of the house says he's going to personally handle all disciplinary and academic issues for your grade level, that sounds like a good thing. However, it's the exact opposite of a good thing when the head honcho of the house decides to spend 80% of his time out of your class, out of your school, and for all intensive purposes, out of your world. Instead of having a watchful, helpful administrator on our side, we 8th grade teachers were marooned to a desert island in the middle of hurricane season.

After the first two weeks of school, I didn't think we'd be needing Mr. Fenner's help. The students were working hard, behaving well, and I was personally teaching the pants off American history. Students came into my class smiling, and left smiling even bigger. The other teachers on my team seemed to be doing okay as well, but somewhere in week three, I began to grow increasingly concerned about the students. They started to slip. Their homework got neglected. Their scores dropped. Worst of all, they started to get sassy. Then rowdy. Then downright disrespectful.

I knew things were reaching a critical point when our new science teacher brought a stack of discipline referrals (pink slips, write-ups, call them what you will) and dropped them on my desk after school one day in early October. There must have been about twenty of them.

"What's this?" I asked.

"Dis is jus' from dis week, Mr. Olsen. I'm not sho' what to do."

The referral on top of the stack detailed the story of student telling the teacher to "go f***" himself. The second referral resulted from a student telling the same teacher that he was going to "shoot him up." As I fumbled through the stack of referrals, I got sicker and sicker as they got worse and worse.

"Wow," I said in disbelief after reaching the bottom of the stack. "Have you told Mr. Fenner about this?

"I've tried, Mr. Olsen, but I can' seem to evah catch 'im in 'is office."

I told the teacher I'd take care of it. Wearing my frustration on my sleeve, I stormed out of my room with the referrals tucked under my arm like a football, and headed straight for the office of the head honcho himself. It was high time we taught these kids a lesson.

When I arrived at Mr. Fenner's office, I was understandably miffed to find his door closed, his lights off, and his office silent. He was not there. That was the second day in a row I hadn't seen him at the school. I walked to the front office and asked the school secretary when he'd be back. She didn't know. Dejected, I returned to my classroom and put the stack of referrals on my desk. They'd see Mr. Fenner's desk first thing in the morning, I vowed.

Three weeks later, the referrals were still on my desk. Mr. Fenner had only been to a full day of school three times in fifteen school days. He was always at a meeting, or somewhere else that would produce the broken record of "I don't know" from our school secretary. I did happen to see him in the hall one day, and was able to tell him about the referrals, and how his urgent attention to the matter was needed. He assured me he'd process the paperwork to punish the responsible students that same day.

"Bring the referrals down to my office at 2:00 and we'll go through them, one by one."

"Thank you, Mr. Fenner. Thank you."

At 2:00, I arrived at his office with the referrals in hand, except now the group of twenty had multiplied into a group of over thirty. I knocked on the door to his office, and as sure as the sun rises, I was stood up.

Meanwhile, it seemed like the entire school was beginning to fall apart at the seams. The students were starting to impose their will on an inexperienced faculty and a spineless administration. Students could be found running through the halls without passes, cursing in front of teachers, and getting into fights without remorse. Each day we teachers wondered when, not if, fights would occur. One particularly creative rebellion came in the form of two students jumping on the hood and roof of a teacher's car. The teacher's crime to deserve such a punishment? He wrote the students up for cursing.

While many of us learned to roll with the punches, several teachers had had enough. The first quit the first week of school. Then one in September. Then one in October. Then two in November. Our numbers began to dwindle, and the students were emboldened by their victories.

But don't worry. There's a silver lining to this story. Mr. Fenner finally reappeared in the midst of his mutiny last week, and kindly, lovingly, and respectfully informed the staff and students that he, too, was quitting. Tomorrow is his last day.

It's not always true what they say about that Third Year. Sometimes it's better. Sometimes it's worse. Sometimes I'm grateful for these challenges, and try to turn them into lessons learned for someone who will spend the rest of his life in education. And then sometimes I think things can't get any worse. Of course, then I simply remember one thing: it's only November.