Disney Dilemna

He was a school administrator.  She was a teacher. They worked in the same school.  Both were divorced.  They met, dated, married.  Nice people.  Good people.  But sometimes life plays dirty tricks even on the best people.  Some years after their wedding she grew sick, then sicker.  An operation revealed grim news.  She started treatments.

Administration took up a collection, sent flowers.  Another envelope was circulated for a gift basket.  Then another for restaurant gift cards.  Meanwhile, the schools also collected.  More gift cards.  An e-reader and books.  A cleaning service.

Then came the 2-page letter, delivered to each school building with orders that it be delivered to all employees – all school administrators, all teachers and teacher aides, all nurses, custodians, secretaries, and food service workers. Everyone. Booster clubs received letters, too, with verbal requests.  So did School District vendors, the companies who sell supplies and equipment.

The letter asked for donations to send the family on a dream trip to Disney.  (Their second trip; they went last year on their own.)  Tickets had already been purchased for this second, more lavish trip.  Checks were to be made payable to another administrator.

Page two of the letter listed categories of giving.  Employees were to check the level of their donation.  $5 to $9 was one level.  $10 to $24 was the next level.  $25 to $39, and so on, going to $100 and up.  A donors’ list was created to give to the family so they could see who gave, and how much.  Employees were told, “That’s how charities do it.”

The response was overwhelming – nearly $20,000 raised so far, for a couple who together earn over $150,000 a year.  But, as I said, they are good people.  Life was unfair, even cruel.  People wanted to do something, to make it better. 

Or was it that many felt bullied into giving?  Because along with the hefty donations came grumbling, and anger.  The tone of the letter, signed by the Superintendent of Schools, left no doubt that names and donation amounts would be recorded.   And there was that donors’ list to consider.  Who wouldn’t give, at least something?

A district this size has had others out with terminal illnesses over the years.  Still does.  What school district doesn’t?  A custodian’s daughter is dying of cancer.  A teacher, a cook, a secretary have all been in similar situations.  Flowers and cards are sent.  Sometimes co-workers bake a lasagna,or a chocolate cake.  Certainly nothing approaching the level of extravagance described above.

A person wonders.  What made this situation so different that the Superintendent stepped in?  Would such a thing be done for others in the future?  Would other families be sent on such a trip at employees’, booster clubs’, and vendors’ expense?

Would you have given?

Helicopter Parent

The call came in at 8:15. A woman, sounding rushed, said she needed a high school transcript mailed to our state university.  She added, “It must go out today.”

“When did you graduate?” I asked.

“Oh, it’s not for me,” she said.  “It’s for my son.  He graduated in 2004.  How much will it cost?”

“Your son is an adult.  25.  He has to call me.”

“Oh, but he can’t,” she said.  “He’s in school all day.  Community College.  And then he has to go to work.  He doesn’t have the time to call.”

And you, in your breathless I’m-late-for-work voice, obviously do have time. I wanted to say it, but didn’t.  A school secretary learns to tread lightly with parents.  Never know when one might be a friend with the superintendent, or maybe related to a board member.

“Please have him call me,” I said politely.  Professionally.  “As an adult, they are his records.  He’ll need to make the request.”

She hung up in a huff, probably convinced that I felt it my duty to keep her son out of the University.

They’re called helicopter parents (click).  They continue to figuratively walk their child to school, holding his or her hand, long after that child has left elementary school and graduated from high school.   They hold on to the responsibility of parenting adult children, hovering, plucking up their daily burdens.  Like requesting a high school transcript.

Why?  What motivates them?  Fear of their child’s failure?  Of how it will reflect on them as parents? Whatever it is, they seem to be a growing phenomena.

Sad.

How would you handle such a parent?  Would you deal with the parent, or insist on dealing with the former student directly?

Playing Nice

The start of the school year is crazy busy, both in our buildings and in the administration offices.  Seems the last thing I want to do is go home and turn on the computer to write this journal.  That’s my excuse for not posting for a while.  At least my formal excuse. The truth is I haven’t had a lot to say about my work.

These days I generally like my job.  The situation has changed from when our former Superintendent regularly hid out in his office while the district he was in charge of went up in flames.   His second-in-command, a turkey-necked woman who regularly harassed and even once tried to run down her secretary in the parking lot, is long gone.  Other non-functional folk are gone too.  Good riddance.

Even though we’re busy, things are quieter now.  The hallways and workroom are no longer invaded by arguing administrators.   No longer do I have that sick feeling roiling in my stomach, wondering who will next feel the wrath of an inept, puff-chested, out-of-control administration.  Will it be me?

That is how it was when I decided to organize the secretaries, to form a union.  I needed control of my life, but mostly it was for protection.  But that’s another post.  Let’s not go there just now.

Yes, things seem better so I’ve decided to play nice for a while.

What’s it like where you work?

School Boards

“In the first place, God made idiots,” Mark Twain wrote. “This was for practice. Then He made School Boards.”

In theory, school boards function as taxpayers’ elected representatives, sworn to oversee the efficient running of the schools.   In theory.

In the years I’ve worked as an administrative secretary, I’ve attended well over a hundred school board meetings.  I’ve heard board members patronize, pontificate, and perjure.  I’ve also watched them sit mutely through public meetings, rubber stamping the agenda according to the administration’s recommendations.  No public discussion.  No explanation for increased spending.  They act as puppets for the administration,  little more.

I once heard that a school board election is one of the easiest to win.  There’s no salary involved, no real perks.  Who would want the responsibility — except a few self-serving sorts with hidden agendas?  He wants to boost his son’s position on the football team.  She wants to raise her community standing, or, even worse, to secure a teaching position for her daughter.  Occasionally there’s the rare altruistic soul who genuinely seeks to control spending, or to raise the quality of the academics but he or she is rare indeed.

In our last school board election, we had no candidates for one seat in the primary.  In the general election, a man got nine friends and family to write in his name.  He didn’t care enough to have petitions signed to run openly in the primary.  But, since no one else was running, he won – with nine write-in votes.  Now he’s on the board.

Countless taxpaying citizens complain about decisions made by the board and administration.  They cry over higher and higher taxes, over ever increasing teacher salaries, and nepotism in hiring.  But unless a coach picks on their son, or if their daughter is suspended — they do not come to board meetings to learn what is happening.  They certainly do not run for school board.  Who does that leave?

Who controls your school district – the school board or the administration?  What are your feelings about school boards?

Uni-Sex Restrooms

The main hall connecting our offices has one uni-sex, handicapped accessible restroom for about 20 people.  Much farther away are separate mens’ and ladies’ rooms. For convenience, most administrators and secretaries use the sole uni-sex room.  It’s a busy place.

Principals and other non-central administrators visit the administration offices regularly for meetings.  It’s become obvious that some of the men never took a course in Office Restroom Etiquette. Or, as a fellow secretary puts it, they never learned the adage – If you sprinkle when you tinkle, please be neat and wipe the seat.

Today the above-mentioned secretary had a near fatal fall when she slipped on the wet tile floor near the toilet.  The seat had also been liberally sprinkled.   She pulled out a bulky handful of paper towels and, using a whole lot of soap from the dispenser, cleaned up the administrator’s mess.

She came into my office red-faced.  Don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone express anger and hilarity simultaneously quite so effectively.  “They’re supposed to be professionals!” she said.  “They’re pigs!”  We shared some tacky comments, laughed, then discussed our options.

1. Open discussion/confrontation?   But they’re administrators, with ample arrogance.
   
2. Talk with our bosses?  Didn’t work last time.
   
3. Put up a sign?  Tried that.  It was taken down the next day.
4. Call the lone custodian for clean up?  There’s a thought.

Since we have a few new faces since our last try, and since our goal is to prevent a future occurrence (not deal with its aftermath), we went with #2.   It sounds like there will be some action.  Hopefully.  And at least we have our thinking caps on now.

Anyone out there have a similar problem?  How did you resolve it?

Wednesday

Sometimes I come home from work wondering what I’ve accomplished.  I decided to make a list, for posterity’s sake if nothing else. 

This morning I logged student paperwork onto the computer.   The system was chilled maple syrup slow.  I yawned a lot and finished my coffee while it was still hot.  Sorted and opened inter-office mail.  Copied and submitted a late time sheet.   Posted a letter.  Answered the phone.  Read and answered emails.

Another secretary is out so I spoke some with the part-timer who is filling in.  She’s a veteran who knows her way around our various offices and just had a question or two.  We chatted two or three minutes until the phone rang again.

Made up new student files.  Filed paperwork I’d logged in earlier.  I hate filing. Scheduled interviews for a new position; answered follow-up phone calls; copied their applications for the committee.  Copied and distributed articles for our counselors.  Answered calls — parents, staff, salespeople.  Took messages.

Sorted and opened USPS mail.  Gave a former student his transcript.  Reserved a meeting room for an upcoming training session; arranged for light refreshments from food service.  Filed some more.  More email.  What did we do before email?

I chatted briefly with my boss about work, and about her grandchildren.  She’s a good administrator, a good person.  I never have to make excuses for her.  She listens, is fair, never judges.  She’s organized, and does her job.

A steady, moderately paced day, except for the slow computer.

What did you do today?

Boards & Administration

Within a year or so of starting my job, our Assistant Superintendent retired.  While the School Board searched for a replacement, they hired an interim to assume his duties.  The interim had been School Superintendent in a neighboring district but was now retired.  He agreed to lend a hand (for a hefty fee, of course).   He came with a lot of praise, and knew it.   I found him a bit stiff.  But what did I know?

After a month or two, the guy took a week-long vacation.  While gone, he sent the office staff a post card.  “Having a great time,” he wrote.  “Wish you were here.”  Not the most creative, but a nice sentiment.  It was the card he chose, the picture that shocked my innocent soul.  (A while back, I came across a copy online. See photo). When I saw that card, I learned my second lesson — about the arrogance of some educators, administrators in particular.

School board members are like most politicians.  Some are in it for power and status.  Some have a more altruistic goal — the community’s good.  Whatever a board member’s motive, I’ve come to see that he or she devotes a heap of time for a small reward.  They’re not paid, you know.  Not a penny.  At least, not in my state.

Seeing that card taught me a lot about school administrators.  A lot about their attitude toward board members.  Maybe some is justified.  Now and then, everyone likes to knock the man in charge.   In 15 years, I’ve met more than one board member whose name I’d gladly write on the rump of that jackass.  But the same holds true for some administrators I’ve known, a few teachers, and some building support staff.   In this world there are good people, and not so good.  Those we can work with, and those who hinder us more than not.

His mailing the card openly to the office staff revealed a tacky, bullying nature by someone who was supposed to be a leader.  Showed me more than I wanted to know.  In the years ahead, I would see so much more.

How do you feel about school district administrators?

Choices

I didn’t plan to become a school district secretary. When I applied 15 years ago, I didn’t want to work outside the home.  I was happy as a wife, a mother, and a school volunteer.  My kids were growing and I was nursing a passion to write that I hoped to grow into a career.  Work?  For the school district?  Never.

But often our needs outweigh outweigh our desires.  One icy winter morning, I interviewed for a job I didn’t particularly want.   When I went to my second interview, the one where I sat down with the Superintendent of Schools, I wore ratty slacks and a well-worn sweater.  A note of defiance, I guess.  As I said, I really didn’t want the job.  The Superintendent didn’t seem to notice my attire, nor did the administrator who became my boss.  For some bizarre reason, out of all the candidates, they chose me.  I should have been honored.

The following Monday I found myself sitting behind a vintage wooden desk in the school district’s administrative office.  In front of me was an antique word processor.  At home I’d been working in my own private den, typing a manuscript on a Pentium PC.  My first lesson. School Districts are ruled by budgets, business managers, and boards.

I didn’t want a job outside the home but I had to make a choice.  Help provide for the family, and save for our children’s college fund?  Or let them starve and forego a higher education?  Not much of a choice.  Parents do what they must, and our kids were bright.  (Still are, actually. ).  They needed college.

We end up where we are through a series of choices.  Choices we make in our teens.  Choices about college.  Choices about a job, or a career.  Do we marry and, if so, who?  Do we have children?  When?  How many?  Where do we live?  Every choice made leads us down a different path.   Choices made long ago have led us to where we are today.

Are you happy with the choices you’ve made?  Is there somewhere else you’d like to go in your life?  What choices could you make to take you there?