Hop in the DeLorean

Years ago, in a galaxy far, far away, an innocent, enthusiastic girl was offered the choice of 3 different futures. One, at Grosse Pointe, teaching bored young rich kids--a John Hughes-vision of "real life." Two, at Shawnee, teaching faux-rich kids; Third, reincarnating Dorothy Day and bringing culture home to her alma mater.

If Doc Brown dangled the keys of the DeLorean and whispered, "floor it to 88 mph," I think I'd rev the engine. I KNOW that's what I should tell my younger colleagues.

I've sat in too many buzz-word laden meetings, listened to too many sincere people look at data for subgroups and discuss how we could support disabled students to raise test scores, or reconfigure middle schools to increase delivery and retention of information. I've had too many discussions about what it would take to motivate students who don't care. And I'm very sure that at Shawnee and Grosse Point, I wouldn't overhear discussions about whether someone's socks or belt violate dress code.

And, when the president starts planning merit pay for successful teachers, I bet I'd have more confidence that my colleagues and I wouldn't get financially screwed--again--just because we were willing enough, or shortsighted enough, or desperate enough, to take a job with in a school system that's a petrie dish for just about every social ill the Great Society was supposed to cure.