Maybe.
If you’d asked me ten years ago how I felt about having my classroom videotaped, I would have been dead set against it. Besides the fact that I’d be afraid of looking fat, I hate the nasal sound of my recorded voice, and I have a weird neck thing that’s exaggerated on film, I was worried that I would be proven incompetent. I became a teacher in California during the Emergency Permit days. I walked into my classroom the first day with a bachelor’s degree and a key. I didn’t even have a teacher’s edition of the textbook. I had no formal training whatsoever. And boy, did it show.
My point is that my only objections to being recorded while teaching were my vanity and my fear of having my perceived incompetence revealed.
Ever since the first time I watched an embarrassing You Tube video of a teacher being recorded without his knowledge, I have tried to conduct myself in class as though I were being recorded at all times. Frankly, it has made me more professional in my conduct. If I’m sitting at my computer during class, I can guarantee you that I am doing my online attendance or answering a work email, not shopping for shoes or watching You Tube videos of teachers being secretly taped. That wasn’t always the case.
Ever since You Tube became popular and camera phones became affordable, students have engaged in a game of baiting teachers into saying or doing inappropriate and embarrassing things, recording them without their knowledge, and posting the results on the internet anonymously. I can tell you that we have all said things we regret to students at one time or another. Maybe a few have been guilty of “laying hands on” a student, but mostly in acceptable ways. I’ve certainly returned handshakes, high fives, and hugs with students, although I’m very careful about the latter. I’ve patted students on the back for encouragement or to show them that I’m proud. I’ve gently jostled a few awake (although my fear of litigation usually compels me to ask another student to do it). One time, I asked a student to stay after class and he refused. He was wearing a hooded sweatshirt, and I grabbed onto his sleeve and tried to keep him from leaving. He left anyway, and I spent the whole night in a cold sweat, heart palpitating, worried that his lawyer was going to be calling the school board in the morning.
I heard of an incident at a high school recently where a teacher was reprimanding a student verbally and touched the student in some way. I’m not sure how. I don’t know the teacher or the student personally. I heard this tale through the Teachers Living in Fear Network of Blood Curdling Stories. I believe that she laid a hand on the student’s shoulder. There is no excuse for touching a student in anger. None. As a parent, I would demand the teacher’s severe reprimand. It seems like most parents, however, are just excited that such an incident can lead to a big payday. Their son who was laughing the incident off in homeroom was suddenly “traumatized” and suffering from PTSD by lunch. The teacher was placed on immediate administrative leave. She is a beloved teacher, who has been with the school for 20 years. Doesn’t matter.
I wish that there had been a camera rolling on the incident for two reasons. One, we’d have the truth. Two, knowing that a camera was recording her, the teacher might have behaved with more restraint. Students are guilty of baiting teachers and generally acting like they’ve never been raised a day in their lives, but some teachers have lived in consequence-free environments for far too long.
I have nothing to hide (except the last 7 pounds of baby weight). Film me. Maybe it will make me a better teacher. In fact, I have no doubt it would. I could review my own performance with a curricular coach, and that person wouldn’t have to miss his own class to sit in on mine. Not to mention that none of us is “real” when we are being formally observed. You cannot observe a system without changing it through the process of observation. It’s, like, science and shit.
If we had cameras filming us all of the time, then we would be accustomed to it, and all observation would be more authentic. The Union would want assurances that these tapes would not be used against teachers in non-contractual ways. I think that something agreeable to both teachers and administration could be worked out. I sincerely do. Especially if you sweeten the pot a little.
Because we will ALSO be filming the students. Oh, yes. And we will use the footage in parent-teacher conferences. No more “he said, she said” drama. When a teacher sends a student out on a referral, the principal can merely cue up the tape and observe the incident. We teachers would be holding hands and skipping down the hallways like school girls.
“Who threw that spitball? No? Nobody wants to cop to it? Okay, let’s play back the tape.”
“You weren’t cheating on the test? Are you sure that’s the story you want to go with? Shall we review the footage together?”
Just as I believe that surveillance would cause teachers to become better at what they do, I think it would put some pressure on students to behave more appropriately as well. Right now, I have a new system at my school called “Teleparent.” I can click a few tabs on my screen and have a recorded phone call sent home any time I want. There are hundreds of messages to choose from. I can easily send home glowing praise, stern reprimand, or reminders about important assignments. I visualize a future where I can just as easily email a video clip. “Here is your daughter, sassing me in class today.” Oh, it’s beautiful to dream of.
Many teachers are natural performers. We love our captive audience. Imagine to what creativity we could be inspired knowing that our lessons were being taped and could be reviewed by colleagues! No more needing to get sub coverage so I can go observe another teacher in his classroom, demonstrating his expertise in something I may be weak in myself. Maybe I could even access a library of archives where teachers I know and respect are teaching lessons I’m about to teach with students similar to mine. I can’t think of a better teaching tool to help me develop as a professional.
But, yeah, I have to admit, I want those students who make our job hell to have some serious accountability. Tomorrow, I have to be out AGAIN because my daughter and I have yet ANOTHER day care cold. I have left sub plans, but I know exactly what is going to go down while I’m not there. If the students were being filmed, I think they would behave better. I think if students behaved better, more people would be drawn to the teaching profession. I think if more people were drawn to the profession, the quality of people in the profession would improve because there would be competition. I know that megalomaniac administrators and other politicos with agendas would find ways to abuse this tool, thereby rendering it a horrible idea. Bad apples, and all. I still think that in its pure, ideological form, it’s a great idea.
I just need twenty minutes of hair and make-up and I’ll be camera-ready.
And Spanx. Definitely some Spanx.
The Friendly Pedant by Mrs. Odie 
Cutting the electronic cord
I am not proud of my addiction to technology. Specifically, I loathe my electronic tether to my Blackberry. Aesthetically, it endears me with its lavendar color, tiny little buttons and familiar icons. I find myself drawn to it. Even when I have no messages or texts, I like to hold it in my hand. Feel its weight. Even Obama was so attached to his Blackberry, he practically wrote a new law saying that presidents could have them. It’s the first thing I look at in the morning when I wake up (it’s my alarm clock, as well as my touchstone).
And it’s gone.
I’m embarrassed that when I went to the Verizon store today and showed the salesperson my coffee drenched Blackberry, and he told me it would cost $450 to buy a new one, I cried. I cried like my toddler being told “You can’t have it.” I mostly cried for my own stupidity. How could I have not bought the insurance? It seemed like a rip-off at the time I was signing up for the service that already added an extra 40 dollars a month to my bill with web browsing and unlimited texting.
I’m not good with nice things. I ruin them. I’m klutzy by nature and careless by nurture. Today, I threw my beloved Blackberry into my work bag with a travel coffee mug I was SURE was empty. Apparently, there were a few drops that found their way into my precious phone. When I fished it out of my bag, it was hot from being fried. Hot to the touch. My heart sank because my carelessness resulted in a loss of something that was dear to me. I can’t afford to replace it.
Aside from being unable to afford it financially, I feel like I don’t deserve to get something brand new to replace something that I should have taken better care of. I feel like I need to learn a lesson here. I’m always lecturing my students about actions and consequences, so here is where I live my words.
Oh, but it hurts.
When I told Odie, “I ruined my phone,” there was a second where his face betrayed his initial reaction of “You really pulled a ‘Mrs. Odie’ this time.” He quickly replaced it with compassionate feelings, and argued with me when I told him I wanted to write on my blog that the first thing he thought was “Of course you ruined your phone, you jackass.” I insisted that his face told me that he was fitting this incident into a larger pattern of behavior on my part, but he counters that I’m projecting that, and what I really saw was his selfish “Oh NO! This is going to be expensive!” (you jackass).
Odie adamantly denies any feelings of condemnation of me or my actions. I suppose it’s possible that I am projecting that. I judge myself far more harshly than I judge anyone else, and if you’ve read the way I judge other people, well then, you can imagine what I’m in for.
I’ve decided to take this as an opportunity to cut my electronic leash. My Blackberry gave me my emails instantly, showed me Facebook updates, and delivered comments from my blog. I used it to check my blog stats a few times a day, and send text messages to my husband and sisters when I probably should have been paying more attention to the people I was in the room with right then. It has made me less patient by feeding my desire for instant gratification.
“Instant gratification takes too long!” Postcards from the Edge
A former student of mine who goes to UC Santa Cruz takes the time to have coffee with me whenever she is in town. During our most recent visit, I was particularly excited to talk to her, because I hadn’t “seen her on Facebook” in many months. She told me she had taken a break from it, and as a result had spent her time talking to people, going on adventures, and connecting in a more real way. She pronounced it amazing. The teacher becomes the student.
I work with people I haven’t seen in weeks. They know what’s going on in my life because I update my Facebook status. What if I walked up a flight of stairs during lunch, poked my head into Ms. Chan’s classroom, and asked her how she was doing, instead of clicking her Facebook profile? One of my closest friends works in the classroom across the hall, and I literally haven’t seen her face in a week. Don’t get too alarmed if I sound all “Carpe Diem” and shit (because Dead Poets Society is a bit too precious for me and I’ve always rolled my eyes at the whole “suck the marrow” scene), but I think that this Blackberry incident has the potential to push me toward a more authentic life.
Until Christmas, of course, when Odie goes on Ebay and finds me an affordable replacement.
Ever since I wrote an essay here on my blog contemplating God’s active participation in the minutia of our lives, I’ve received a bit of proselytizing about Jesus and such in the comments, so let me just nip THAT in the bud and say I don’t believe Jesus spilled coffee on my Blackberry to help him “see my heart.” I just think He has more important things to do than be involved in my wireless plan. I don’t think that’s what they mean when they say “God has a plan.” And I don’t think he’d go with Verizon. He seems more like an “Apple guy.” Oh! Maybe that’s the lesson here! God wants me to get an Iphone.
I’m going to be more present in my life. It drives me nuts as an instructor that my students can’t put their phones down for the 56 minutes I’m trying to teach them something. I used to have a principal who couldn’t sit through a conversation with anyone without looking at his phone while you were talking to him. It made me feel unimportant. I don’t want to make others feel that way. Especially not my child.
Because I have a child, I must have a phone. I shelled out my stupid tax of $109.00 to purchase a bottom of the line cell phone with no internet and no full keypad. Just a bare bones phone I can use to make and receive emergency calls. As of now, I’m five hours into Blackberry detox, and doing fine.
Stay tuned… I bloom, I bloom, I bloom…
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