Teacher fired because … ?

whiteboard with black letters
Mrs. Tirado says good-bye

The photo above is a teacher’s message to her students after being fired. I’m going to play devil’s advocate on this incident. Bear with me.

There’s good math behind the policy that no one receives less than 50% (thank you, Scott West). I adopted this practice myself for the last few years I taught. No one got less than 50%, and students who finally “got it” recovered faster from earlier failing grades. Were there a few who took advantage? Yes, maybe one or two over the years. (You will always have some.) Almost always, students who earned an F received one. Here’s where I differ: I did NOT give 50% for someone who handed in nothing. That remained a zero.

Schools receive funding based in part on how many students graduate. Failing grades cause students not to graduate. A grading policy of not giving grades lower than 50% will help students pass and graduate, and it will help the schools receive more funding. This policy is actually a logical move in the nightmarish assault on public education. It’s better for students (except the 50% for a zero part), and it’s better for schools.

And my final point. This incident as it’s being reported doesn’t make any sense. It looks like a tyrannical administrator fired a saintly teacher, but real life is seldom so black-and-white. We might want to consider that we don’t really know why this teacher was fired; we just know what she says. I want to stand with this teacher. But I also want more information about the situation.

This article suggests some of the complexity of the situation.

Scramble!

A guitarist strums his guitar in a TV studio.
Warming up for Imagine This!

I’m a talent wrangler for Imagine This! Once a month we invite local acts to share their talent before a studio audience. The show is edited and then replayed on our local cable TV channel. My job is to find and invite performers.

Last Thursday Ron, our emcee, missed our recording session. I sent a text – no response – and it slowly dawned on me that I would be the emcee. I had gone to the show “extra casual” that evening. My hair was a mess, I had no makeup on, my shirt had too “busy” a design for TV, and I hadn’t written down the information that the emcee usually announces.

While the final act recorded, I scrambled: I dug through my purse to find whatever makeup might be available. I set my camera on “selfie” mode to use as a mirror. (Many thanks to whichever high school student showed me that trick!) I wrote notes about the performers. Ron always ended with an inspirational story of some kind — what could I close with? By the time I needed to be ready, I had a little makeup, a comb through my hair, and a vague idea of something to say.

I remember closing with, “That’s our show. You know, every one of our performers tonight started at the same place. They said, ‘I wonder if I can?’ ‘I wonder if I can play that guitar?’ ‘I wonder if I can write a song?'” I don’t remember a syllable that I said after that, but everyone in the studio was watching intently, and someone asked later if I planned a career as a motivational speaker! I had to smile.

They didn’t know I was thinking, “I wonder if I can get through this?”

From now on, it’s back to my Girl Scout motto: be prepared!

Failing Gloriously

At the beginning of the summer, I auditioned for a role in “Sister Act.” My experience in community theater is limited, and I wanted to try something new.

I was offered the role of Nun #7. It came with a lot more dancing than I was comfortable with. My friends reminded me that when you try something new, it’s probably NOT going to be easy at first, but it will be worth doing. They were right, and I stuck with it.

I was still trying to master the choreography when the show opened 10 weeks later. I had most of it, but here and there I was uncertain and sometimes just wrong. I continued to practice at home.

During the final performance a photographer shot several candids. Nun #7 is nondescript, and you can really only see me in one shot. But what a shot:

Women dressed as nuns and dancing onstage.
♫♪ One of these things is not like the others. ♪♫

That’s me in the back row facing the wrong way.

Had the picture been a second later, I would have been facing the right way. It was one moment in one dance. But it’s the moment the photographer captured, and now it dominates my memory.

It’s a blessing to be able to laugh at ourselves and at situations. It’s not easy at first, but it’s worth learning how.