Stop! Your Mailbox is Full of It!

I check my Department of Ed. e-mail every night.  In the past couple of weeks, upon each entry, I was greeted by the same message:  "Your mailbox is almost full."  And, sadly, with each day, despite all my efforts to permanently delete all correspondences for which I may have no further need, I could not break lower than 150 MB.  

Realizing that the situation was approaching a critical point, I printed off a number of e-mails.  I am reluctant to delete anything that might potentially act in my defense when I am held up to the high standards of Danielson for my APPR.  I realize it is a small part of the whole evaluation, but who knows?  If students don't do well on tests, I may need those few points here and there.  I printed off everything from failure to do homework notes to "you're welcome" to a Mom thanking me for letting her know that her son was doing well.  Then, I deleted with some regret the electronic evidence of these interactions.  I was told I could e-mail copies to my A.P., but I don't see how her box could be anything but bursting at the seams by now, unless she has many more MBs than me.

The deletions seemed to help for a day or so, but once again, my e-mail box reached its critical breaking point.  I eyed my remaining correspondences and wondered which ones I should delete. 

I was aware of the biggest culprit, a string of e-mail correspondences with the aunt of a student.  Every school day, she writes to see whether or not her nephew came to class.  Unfortunately, I mostly reply, "He did not come today.  Sorry."   I once told this student privately that I had never in my twenty or more years had a parent or guardian show so much constant concern for a student (she had been to guidance and the deans also) and that he should realize how much his Aunt cared for him.  It didn't shame him enough though to make a big difference.  He still mostly misses class.  I finally decided to delete this thread of correspondence for the sake of my mailbox, but what if I need it to fight for a 4 on parental contact in the future to help save my job? I may be a goner!

I turned my "artifacts" in two weeks ahead of the deadline, copies of so many things to try to prove my professional integrity.  I am glad I turned it in early because the following week our copy machine toted the sign, "Busted!"  I don't mind saying I put a giant question mark on the front of my packet (probably an inspiration from E.M. Forster's, A Room with a View).  My opening document was the sheet music for Puccini's "Vissi D'Arte," then time-consuming copy after copy of evidence in my own self-defense.


The greatest irony of it all is that while I, and my fellow colleagues, and all the A.P.s are made to put aside their usual business of primarily serving student populations to scurry around in a dance to the tune of Danielson, the ADVANCE website that is supposed to help us track our progress has been inaccessible all year long.  You'd think it would be of critical importance for teachers to understand the sum of where we stand this late in the game.  Yet, from all I hear, the site is silent. 

Just as my mailbox is hovering in a near critical status, it seems the ADVANCE system is failing to meet its obligations.  And with little time left, we are now in the end game.  But how will it all end?  And who will be the winners and who will be the losers? I know our students will surely be among the losers.  I have not become a better teacher because of this system.  Instead, I have watched stress mount around me and, like my mailbox, approach critical breaking points.  I'm sure someone is loving all this "creative disruption" from the comfort of some City penthouse or a mansion on the outskirts of the City.  But these are people who know nothing about the inner workings or dynamics of a school system, a community or of a society.  If I told them half of what I think about all this, their e-mail boxes would be full, too!