Wednesday, February 22, 2006
"Free are hoodies!"
Graffiti artists are a dime a dozen at Underwood High School. Look at any of my desks and you're almost certain to find a slew of four letter words, rap-inspired tags, and territorial markings belonging to any of several local gangs. Despite the official district policies against defacing classroom properties, students continue to scribble their marks on any and all available surfaces. Everywhere from the door of the mathematics office to the bleachers in the gym are crammed with jumbled masses of letters, numbers, and assorted doodles.
It is rare, however, that any of these markings have any broad political meaning or a coherent message of protest. (Especially without those four letter words I mentioned earlier!) Which is why I was startled, as I was cleaning up my classrooms after school, to discover the three word missive repated in this post's title scrawled upon the wall in the stairwell.
The slogan, as you can read, is relatively innocuous at first glance. It makes slightly more sense if you know that "hoodies" are how students refer to hooded sweatshirts. Unfortunately, with only that knowledge, it appears that our anonymous graffito is making a statement, not of protest, but of discount savings, albeit savings with poor sentence structure. After all, "Hoodies are free" would make a lot more sense if sweatshirts were being given away.
The truth of the matter, strangely enough, as with so many things at Underwood is the exact opposite of how it might appear at face value. For the hoodies are not gratis. They are not being distributed to anyone with any cost to either buyer or seller. Instead, they are being confiscated by members of the school's administrative team, who their latest ill-conceived reform effort have determined that the greatest problem facing the school at this moment, the sole obstacle preventing Underwood from being all that it can be both academically and otherwise, is student inability to follow the school's uniform policy.
Yes, like every other school in the district, Underwood has uniform policy intended to instill discipline and minimize the impact of designer labels. Khaki pants, black shoes, school shirt. That's it. Frustrated at the lack of creative outfit options however, students have this annoying tendency to come to school dressed in uniform and then change later in the day. Furthermore, the heavy winter coat and the hooded sweatshirt, which are supposed to be placed in students' lockers have become de facto additions to their regular uniform wardrobe. This leads to two regular annoyances in my classroom. First, because of the additional layer of insulation, students are always complaining about how warm it is in the building. It could be 10 below and students will still be asking me to open up a window. And heaven forbid I should suggest they take off the sweatshirt and winter coat before complaining about the temperature. That sort of suggestion is just insane.
The second issue is security related, and I confess it is far less of an issue this late in the year than it might have been around September. The problem is as follows: hoodies make it far easier for students to conceal their identity from teachers and security personnel, particularly if you watch on the cameras. This is the excuse the administration has given the students for the Hoodie Purge of '06 (my name, not theirs), which is intended to reassert some control over a school gone mad.
The strategy is as follows:
1. Extend homeroom an additional half-hour a day, making it a full hour long.
2. Send members of the administrative team around to the homerooms to check students are in uniform and if not that they have lockers in which to put the offending clothing items.
3. Barring a locker or in the face of resistance to the new order, students receive a suspension, have the offending garment confiscated, or some combination of the two.
When this plan was initiated, response was negative across the board. Teachers hated (and continue to hate) extended advisory because they are basically forced to babysit in their rooms for an additional half hour with little to no authority over the kids in their homerooms. (There is after all, no grade, behavioral or otherwise, for advisory.) Students were livid at the thought they might actually have to follow school rules and suspensions began to pile up as students refused to accede to the administration's wishes. One of my top chemistry students, who thanks to a solid extra credit response on her most recent test had a class average above 100%, got herself suspended and I heard a rather shocking string of profanity issue forth as she stormed down the hallway from her homeroom. Another student took it upon himself to start up the picket lines as in days of yore, marching around the third floor shouting out "Hell no, we won't go!," over and over and over again.
I have no idea if he was responsible for the grafitti I saw earlier today or if it was another similarly inspired student driven to express his discontent. "Free are hoodies!", or rather, "Free our hoodies!" was just one of a few slogans written on the walls these days. Another classic is "Give us heat or give us our hoodies," which I suppose is a more even-handed approach to the debate, though at the same time, the school is typically very warm with only the top floors suffering from cold temperatures consistently during the winter.
In any event, the school's leadership team, although inconsistent to the point of laughability with climate control initiatives, is very stern about grafitti in the hallways, where outside observers can see that it: a. exists and b. is unchecked by the administration, so it is a near certainty that within a week the offending marks will be gone. My bet is that after this week, so too will this uniform initiative, swept aside by the looming threat of standardized testing. There's a cyclical nature to these things. If you don't like the latest policy at Underwood High, or any high school throughout this crazy district, just wait two weeks. There'll be something new right around the bend.
Graffiti artists are a dime a dozen at Underwood High School. Look at any of my desks and you're almost certain to find a slew of four letter words, rap-inspired tags, and territorial markings belonging to any of several local gangs. Despite the official district policies against defacing classroom properties, students continue to scribble their marks on any and all available surfaces. Everywhere from the door of the mathematics office to the bleachers in the gym are crammed with jumbled masses of letters, numbers, and assorted doodles.
It is rare, however, that any of these markings have any broad political meaning or a coherent message of protest. (Especially without those four letter words I mentioned earlier!) Which is why I was startled, as I was cleaning up my classrooms after school, to discover the three word missive repated in this post's title scrawled upon the wall in the stairwell.
The slogan, as you can read, is relatively innocuous at first glance. It makes slightly more sense if you know that "hoodies" are how students refer to hooded sweatshirts. Unfortunately, with only that knowledge, it appears that our anonymous graffito is making a statement, not of protest, but of discount savings, albeit savings with poor sentence structure. After all, "Hoodies are free" would make a lot more sense if sweatshirts were being given away.
The truth of the matter, strangely enough, as with so many things at Underwood is the exact opposite of how it might appear at face value. For the hoodies are not gratis. They are not being distributed to anyone with any cost to either buyer or seller. Instead, they are being confiscated by members of the school's administrative team, who their latest ill-conceived reform effort have determined that the greatest problem facing the school at this moment, the sole obstacle preventing Underwood from being all that it can be both academically and otherwise, is student inability to follow the school's uniform policy.
Yes, like every other school in the district, Underwood has uniform policy intended to instill discipline and minimize the impact of designer labels. Khaki pants, black shoes, school shirt. That's it. Frustrated at the lack of creative outfit options however, students have this annoying tendency to come to school dressed in uniform and then change later in the day. Furthermore, the heavy winter coat and the hooded sweatshirt, which are supposed to be placed in students' lockers have become de facto additions to their regular uniform wardrobe. This leads to two regular annoyances in my classroom. First, because of the additional layer of insulation, students are always complaining about how warm it is in the building. It could be 10 below and students will still be asking me to open up a window. And heaven forbid I should suggest they take off the sweatshirt and winter coat before complaining about the temperature. That sort of suggestion is just insane.
The second issue is security related, and I confess it is far less of an issue this late in the year than it might have been around September. The problem is as follows: hoodies make it far easier for students to conceal their identity from teachers and security personnel, particularly if you watch on the cameras. This is the excuse the administration has given the students for the Hoodie Purge of '06 (my name, not theirs), which is intended to reassert some control over a school gone mad.
The strategy is as follows:
1. Extend homeroom an additional half-hour a day, making it a full hour long.
2. Send members of the administrative team around to the homerooms to check students are in uniform and if not that they have lockers in which to put the offending clothing items.
3. Barring a locker or in the face of resistance to the new order, students receive a suspension, have the offending garment confiscated, or some combination of the two.
When this plan was initiated, response was negative across the board. Teachers hated (and continue to hate) extended advisory because they are basically forced to babysit in their rooms for an additional half hour with little to no authority over the kids in their homerooms. (There is after all, no grade, behavioral or otherwise, for advisory.) Students were livid at the thought they might actually have to follow school rules and suspensions began to pile up as students refused to accede to the administration's wishes. One of my top chemistry students, who thanks to a solid extra credit response on her most recent test had a class average above 100%, got herself suspended and I heard a rather shocking string of profanity issue forth as she stormed down the hallway from her homeroom. Another student took it upon himself to start up the picket lines as in days of yore, marching around the third floor shouting out "Hell no, we won't go!," over and over and over again.
I have no idea if he was responsible for the grafitti I saw earlier today or if it was another similarly inspired student driven to express his discontent. "Free are hoodies!", or rather, "Free our hoodies!" was just one of a few slogans written on the walls these days. Another classic is "Give us heat or give us our hoodies," which I suppose is a more even-handed approach to the debate, though at the same time, the school is typically very warm with only the top floors suffering from cold temperatures consistently during the winter.
In any event, the school's leadership team, although inconsistent to the point of laughability with climate control initiatives, is very stern about grafitti in the hallways, where outside observers can see that it: a. exists and b. is unchecked by the administration, so it is a near certainty that within a week the offending marks will be gone. My bet is that after this week, so too will this uniform initiative, swept aside by the looming threat of standardized testing. There's a cyclical nature to these things. If you don't like the latest policy at Underwood High, or any high school throughout this crazy district, just wait two weeks. There'll be something new right around the bend.
Monday, February 20, 2006
A Puzzling Memorandum
Remember the recent trouble that the Underwood administration had with the school police? If not, go down a few posts and read up!
All set?
Good.
Now, as I was saying...remember the recent trouble that the Underwood administration had with the school police? As mentioned before, the burden this little bout of blue flu placed on the school was as virulent and frustrating as an actual bout of the virus. The school was damn near bursting with student mischief.
Which is why I suppose it is not at all surprising that the administration should send out a memo the following school day as a little Valentine's present/thank you gift.
Date: 2/14/06
To: School Personnel
CC: School Police
From: Underwood High School
RE: Thanks
To All School Personnel:
I would like to thank you for your help during Friday, 2/20/06, in keeping a safe climate at Underwood High School.
Three points:
1. I like it when the school building communicates directly with me in written form. This way no one can chalk it up to "voices in my head."
2. Aren't School Police also personnel? Oh wait...it's one of those unspoken distinctions, isn't it? And now I've spoken... How awkward!
3. For those keeping track, the Friday in question was in point of fact the 10th, not the 20th. Today is the 20th. It is Monday. And there is no school.
In short, everyone in the school received a memorandum last Tuesday thanking us for our help last Friday, but last Friday's date was inadvertently substituted for today's date, nearly a full week in the future from the time of the note's publication and a day on which there could not have been any disruption for us to help contain.
Make sense?
If not, don't worry. That's par for the course in this Catch-22 of a high school where I teach.
Remember the recent trouble that the Underwood administration had with the school police? If not, go down a few posts and read up!
All set?
Good.
Now, as I was saying...remember the recent trouble that the Underwood administration had with the school police? As mentioned before, the burden this little bout of blue flu placed on the school was as virulent and frustrating as an actual bout of the virus. The school was damn near bursting with student mischief.
Which is why I suppose it is not at all surprising that the administration should send out a memo the following school day as a little Valentine's present/thank you gift.
Date: 2/14/06
To: School Personnel
CC: School Police
From: Underwood High School
RE: Thanks
To All School Personnel:
I would like to thank you for your help during Friday, 2/20/06, in keeping a safe climate at Underwood High School.
Three points:
1. I like it when the school building communicates directly with me in written form. This way no one can chalk it up to "voices in my head."
2. Aren't School Police also personnel? Oh wait...it's one of those unspoken distinctions, isn't it? And now I've spoken... How awkward!
3. For those keeping track, the Friday in question was in point of fact the 10th, not the 20th. Today is the 20th. It is Monday. And there is no school.
In short, everyone in the school received a memorandum last Tuesday thanking us for our help last Friday, but last Friday's date was inadvertently substituted for today's date, nearly a full week in the future from the time of the note's publication and a day on which there could not have been any disruption for us to help contain.
Make sense?
If not, don't worry. That's par for the course in this Catch-22 of a high school where I teach.
From the Homework Pile: "Watt exactly is the problem!"
[From my Period 8 Physical Science class homework assignment reviewing the definition and calculation of power.]
Question: The unit of power is named after James ________.
Real Answer: Watt
Student-Provided Answer: unit.
Teacher (smacks head): Of course! James Unit: inventor of...the unit. How could I have been so foolish as to forget that?!?
Subsequent reflection: Just when I think I've scraped the bottom of the barrel, my students come back and remind me that there's plenty of room at the bottom.
[From my Period 8 Physical Science class homework assignment reviewing the definition and calculation of power.]
Question: The unit of power is named after James ________.
Real Answer: Watt
Student-Provided Answer: unit.
Teacher (smacks head): Of course! James Unit: inventor of...the unit. How could I have been so foolish as to forget that?!?
Subsequent reflection: Just when I think I've scraped the bottom of the barrel, my students come back and remind me that there's plenty of room at the bottom.
Saturday, February 18, 2006
The Thin Blue Line
My father, after reading some of the incidents on this blog, will sometimes tell me stories about how different going to school was back when he was in high school here in the city. Back then, he tells me, there was only one police officer in the building and his role was relatively marginalized. Administrators were able to handle the vast majority of disciplinary problems.
Now granted, the school where he went was (and still is) one of the top academic schools around, a magnet which inexorably draws talent from all over to one central location, but regardless of where you went at that time, the need for school police was considerably less than it is today. Consider Underwood High, where I teach. As of last count, Underwood had nine police officers on staff, who are expected to contain the madness that threatens to consume the school. Fights in the lunchroom, attempts to smuggle in drugs or weapons, disruption in class, regardless of the exact manifestation of school-wide chaos, the administration relies heavily on the school police to deal with it.
Unfortunately, it is entirely too easy for reliance to turn into overreliance and a week ago last Thursday, things finally reached the tipping point. It was a particularly crazy day. Fights had broken out in the cafeteria. Students were roaming the halls. And apparently two honors students physically assaulted a school police officer who refused to let them leave the building, proving once again the fine distinction between wisdom and intelligence. The following day, five officers called out sick and the school sergeant was downtown handling another case.
With the school police's manpower diminished by 67%, the administration called all available support staff downstairs to help get students up to their homerooms. Perhaps the wide array of unfamiliar faces provided students with a clue that something odd was going on so far as security was concerned. Regardless of how they found out, the student body figured out long before the teaching staff did that the school was especially devoid of uniformed law enforcement personnel and the rest of the day was even crazier than before. During my planning period, students were in the hallway throwing things at each other and yelling loudly. Fights broke out all over the building and the my principal was running around the building desperately trying to hold things together.
By the end of the day, the only thing any of the teachers could feel was exhausted relief. But for those officers who did show up to work, it was time for a mixture of contempt and anger...at the students, at the administration, and perhaps most of all at their colleagues who they felt acted unprofessionally through their protest. I base this generalization on a conversation I had with one of these officers the following weekend who argued that the administration should do something to punish the officers who had left the school so vulnerable for the sake of their protest.
The question of how best to divide responsibilities so far as classroom and schoolwide climate management are concerned is a complex one, and certainly not one for which I consider myself qualified to provide a definitive answer. At the same time however, I can see both sides of the argument so far as the school police situation and no semblance of a solution in sight. It appears that the administration has a new plan or two up its sleeve that will hopefully lighten the load off the police, but knowing how inconsistent they have been in the past, I hold out very little hope for their success.
Of course I've been proven wrong before. So who knows?
My father, after reading some of the incidents on this blog, will sometimes tell me stories about how different going to school was back when he was in high school here in the city. Back then, he tells me, there was only one police officer in the building and his role was relatively marginalized. Administrators were able to handle the vast majority of disciplinary problems.
Now granted, the school where he went was (and still is) one of the top academic schools around, a magnet which inexorably draws talent from all over to one central location, but regardless of where you went at that time, the need for school police was considerably less than it is today. Consider Underwood High, where I teach. As of last count, Underwood had nine police officers on staff, who are expected to contain the madness that threatens to consume the school. Fights in the lunchroom, attempts to smuggle in drugs or weapons, disruption in class, regardless of the exact manifestation of school-wide chaos, the administration relies heavily on the school police to deal with it.
Unfortunately, it is entirely too easy for reliance to turn into overreliance and a week ago last Thursday, things finally reached the tipping point. It was a particularly crazy day. Fights had broken out in the cafeteria. Students were roaming the halls. And apparently two honors students physically assaulted a school police officer who refused to let them leave the building, proving once again the fine distinction between wisdom and intelligence. The following day, five officers called out sick and the school sergeant was downtown handling another case.
With the school police's manpower diminished by 67%, the administration called all available support staff downstairs to help get students up to their homerooms. Perhaps the wide array of unfamiliar faces provided students with a clue that something odd was going on so far as security was concerned. Regardless of how they found out, the student body figured out long before the teaching staff did that the school was especially devoid of uniformed law enforcement personnel and the rest of the day was even crazier than before. During my planning period, students were in the hallway throwing things at each other and yelling loudly. Fights broke out all over the building and the my principal was running around the building desperately trying to hold things together.
By the end of the day, the only thing any of the teachers could feel was exhausted relief. But for those officers who did show up to work, it was time for a mixture of contempt and anger...at the students, at the administration, and perhaps most of all at their colleagues who they felt acted unprofessionally through their protest. I base this generalization on a conversation I had with one of these officers the following weekend who argued that the administration should do something to punish the officers who had left the school so vulnerable for the sake of their protest.
The question of how best to divide responsibilities so far as classroom and schoolwide climate management are concerned is a complex one, and certainly not one for which I consider myself qualified to provide a definitive answer. At the same time however, I can see both sides of the argument so far as the school police situation and no semblance of a solution in sight. It appears that the administration has a new plan or two up its sleeve that will hopefully lighten the load off the police, but knowing how inconsistent they have been in the past, I hold out very little hope for their success.
Of course I've been proven wrong before. So who knows?
Monday, February 13, 2006
Best Snowday...Ever?
What could be better than having a day off from school?
How about finding out that very day that you had gotten into a rather competitive graduate program?
More news as events merit.
Right now, I'm slightly too excited to think, much less write, coherently.
What could be better than having a day off from school?
How about finding out that very day that you had gotten into a rather competitive graduate program?
More news as events merit.
Right now, I'm slightly too excited to think, much less write, coherently.
Snowday II: Electric Boogaloo
The critics agree. For the most part, this winter has been decidedly subpar. With temperatures that seemed to remain entrenched above 50 degrees through the month of January, the possibility of a weather related school cancellation seemed well nigh impossible. But then February rolled around and in an act of sheer meteorlogical bravado decided to turn on the cold once again. And so temperatures plunged, wind chills rose, and the humidity...fluctuated.
Until this past weekend, when the stars finally came into alignment and the majority of this part of the country got hit by a rather serious snow storm. It had all the classic symptoms. Poor visibility. High winds. And snow. More than we had seen here all winter, and it really could not have come at a worse time for the city's teachers. Because honestly, the snow started on Saturday and ended on Sunday morning. There would be plenty of time for road crews to hit the roads and as I told my students, there would be school on Monday.
The school district had given us our one required snow day for the year. There would be plenty of time to clear the roads. I was positive there would be school on Monday!
And then last night around 10:00, a friend informed me that the parochial schools had announced they were closed for Monday. Now this was interesting. If the parochial schools had announced a closure that raised the possibility, faint as I thought it might be, that the public schools would follow suit. This was the proverbial glimmer of hope that I try so hard to avoid on Sunday nights, because there is nothing worse than building up your expectations that you might have a day off only to wake up to the 6:00 news announcer confirming that yes, there is a mess on the roads and buses are delayed, but you and your students do have to go to school today.
I tried to remain impassive. I really did. Probability seemed to be against the snow day...but it's hard to read the mind of a district superintendent. How would he respond to the parochial school's announcement? And when would he deign to let the rest of us know what he decided? Would it be a preemptive strike or a last minute desperation maneuver? And how would we learn the truth?
All these thoughts and more raced through my brain...for approximately 15 minutes. Because then the same website that had reported the parochial closing updated and now the bright red letters had a new message. Public and parochial schools were closed.
CLOSED!
This was unprecedented. A second snowday during the course of a school year? What's next? Will the sky suddenly turn bright red and start raining passing standardized test answers so that my students might make the district's mandated testing goals?
Who knows? As far as I'm concerned this week is officially dead, what with the kids going off the bloody wall for Valentine's Day, the 3 hour late start for testing on Wednesday, the extended homeroom on Thursday for, you guessed it, more testing, and then a regular Friday. Not much in the way of real teaching seems likely to take place now. For now, I'm off to clean up and possibly revel in the frozen goodness that is a snow day!
The critics agree. For the most part, this winter has been decidedly subpar. With temperatures that seemed to remain entrenched above 50 degrees through the month of January, the possibility of a weather related school cancellation seemed well nigh impossible. But then February rolled around and in an act of sheer meteorlogical bravado decided to turn on the cold once again. And so temperatures plunged, wind chills rose, and the humidity...fluctuated.
Until this past weekend, when the stars finally came into alignment and the majority of this part of the country got hit by a rather serious snow storm. It had all the classic symptoms. Poor visibility. High winds. And snow. More than we had seen here all winter, and it really could not have come at a worse time for the city's teachers. Because honestly, the snow started on Saturday and ended on Sunday morning. There would be plenty of time for road crews to hit the roads and as I told my students, there would be school on Monday.
The school district had given us our one required snow day for the year. There would be plenty of time to clear the roads. I was positive there would be school on Monday!
And then last night around 10:00, a friend informed me that the parochial schools had announced they were closed for Monday. Now this was interesting. If the parochial schools had announced a closure that raised the possibility, faint as I thought it might be, that the public schools would follow suit. This was the proverbial glimmer of hope that I try so hard to avoid on Sunday nights, because there is nothing worse than building up your expectations that you might have a day off only to wake up to the 6:00 news announcer confirming that yes, there is a mess on the roads and buses are delayed, but you and your students do have to go to school today.
I tried to remain impassive. I really did. Probability seemed to be against the snow day...but it's hard to read the mind of a district superintendent. How would he respond to the parochial school's announcement? And when would he deign to let the rest of us know what he decided? Would it be a preemptive strike or a last minute desperation maneuver? And how would we learn the truth?
All these thoughts and more raced through my brain...for approximately 15 minutes. Because then the same website that had reported the parochial closing updated and now the bright red letters had a new message. Public and parochial schools were closed.
CLOSED!
This was unprecedented. A second snowday during the course of a school year? What's next? Will the sky suddenly turn bright red and start raining passing standardized test answers so that my students might make the district's mandated testing goals?
Who knows? As far as I'm concerned this week is officially dead, what with the kids going off the bloody wall for Valentine's Day, the 3 hour late start for testing on Wednesday, the extended homeroom on Thursday for, you guessed it, more testing, and then a regular Friday. Not much in the way of real teaching seems likely to take place now. For now, I'm off to clean up and possibly revel in the frozen goodness that is a snow day!
Sunday, February 05, 2006
By Your (Personal) Leave
Whenever the school district schedules a professional development day, there is a universal temptation for all the teachers to take that day off. Whether or not one chooses to use a personal leave day or come down with a case of the P.D. flu, a three day weekend is generally more appealing than the standard array of breakout groups, guest speakers, and departmental meetings. This temptation becomes nearly irresistable when the district decides to schedule two such professional development days in a row, and you almost always see a significant decrease in attendance on the second day.
I was weighing the merits of taking a day off myself after sitting through Thursday afternoon's professional development on standardized testing. (More on that in a later post) After discussion with a colleague, we actually determined that it would actually maximize utility within the school if teachers took professional development days off.
Consider the fact that teachers who feel the need to take a personal leave day can do so either on a regular school day (i.e. with students in the building) or on a professional develoment day (i.e. with no students in the building). Although the teacher's utility is arguably equal in both cases, in the former, the administration is left in the frustrating position of finding a substitute or splitting up the class in the event that the substitute does not arrive. Similarly, the students are more likely to act out without their regular teacher in the classroom and less likely to gain anything substantive from the substitute's presence, despite the presence of emergency lesson plans. In point of fact, it is more likely that they will end up leaving the classroom an even greater state of disrepair than normal. And all of these hassles would of course lead to diminished personal happiness on the teacher's part upon returning to the classroom!
Based on these assumptions, it therefore seems that from a purely utilitarian standpoint, it makes the most sense to skip professional development days if a day off is deemed necessary.
Of course, the real question is if any personal day is truly necessary. If you are in the unfortunate position of having a strong sense of duty and only take days off when one is actually sick, then this whole discussion is moot.
Which is how I ended up spending several of the most pointless hours of my life in the library on Friday afternoon.
But that is a story for another time...
Whenever the school district schedules a professional development day, there is a universal temptation for all the teachers to take that day off. Whether or not one chooses to use a personal leave day or come down with a case of the P.D. flu, a three day weekend is generally more appealing than the standard array of breakout groups, guest speakers, and departmental meetings. This temptation becomes nearly irresistable when the district decides to schedule two such professional development days in a row, and you almost always see a significant decrease in attendance on the second day.
I was weighing the merits of taking a day off myself after sitting through Thursday afternoon's professional development on standardized testing. (More on that in a later post) After discussion with a colleague, we actually determined that it would actually maximize utility within the school if teachers took professional development days off.
Consider the fact that teachers who feel the need to take a personal leave day can do so either on a regular school day (i.e. with students in the building) or on a professional develoment day (i.e. with no students in the building). Although the teacher's utility is arguably equal in both cases, in the former, the administration is left in the frustrating position of finding a substitute or splitting up the class in the event that the substitute does not arrive. Similarly, the students are more likely to act out without their regular teacher in the classroom and less likely to gain anything substantive from the substitute's presence, despite the presence of emergency lesson plans. In point of fact, it is more likely that they will end up leaving the classroom an even greater state of disrepair than normal. And all of these hassles would of course lead to diminished personal happiness on the teacher's part upon returning to the classroom!
Based on these assumptions, it therefore seems that from a purely utilitarian standpoint, it makes the most sense to skip professional development days if a day off is deemed necessary.
Of course, the real question is if any personal day is truly necessary. If you are in the unfortunate position of having a strong sense of duty and only take days off when one is actually sick, then this whole discussion is moot.
Which is how I ended up spending several of the most pointless hours of my life in the library on Friday afternoon.
But that is a story for another time...
