one term down, three to go

(This blog was written 2 weeks ago ...)

Term 1 of the 2008 school year finished for me on Thursday April 10^th, not on the 11^th as originally scheduled, as the City of Newcastle decided a couple of weeks ago to give all public employees the day off April 11^th to go to the “show”. What is the “show” you ask? Truthfully I cannot tell you much about it as we did not choose to go – Nancy and I opted instead to spend the day together biking and beaching and preparing for our upcoming trip to Western Australia (which is where I sit right now, April 12^th, on a plane bound for Perth). Since Gabe and Jordan’s school is an independent school and not public, they still had a normal school day yesterday, so Nancy and I had a “play date”. When I asked my students what the “show” was, they said “You know Sir, the show!” I said like a play or a concert? And they said “No, like a show with rides and stuff.” And then I finally got it – it is Newcastle’s version of a fair – complete with carnival rides, games, concerts and crappy food. Just another thing here that we kind of get but don’t really…..

The past six weeks of school have flown by with a number of holidays, school related excursions, and school wide activities, including another sport carnival and a 2-hour teacher “stop-work” or strike, last week. It seems that the new Labour Government wants to change the teacher staffing agreement and the teachers Federation is up in arms. I may get to experience my first actual full-day strike in May if things do not get resolved soon.

Overall am having much more fun than when the term began back in January/February – partially because I have had so many days off and have enjoyed our travels, (the ones Nancy has done such a great job describing to you) and more significantly as result of “surrendering to what is”. I have come to realize that I am not a one man evangelist who came here to “straighten out” the Australian education system but just a teacher having an educational experience and hoping to help a few kids find their way through Maths at the high school level. I also have a clearer view of how the system works here in New South Wales based on my observations, questions I continually ask of colleagues and conversations with other exchange teachers from around the state.

Here is how it works based on my understanding: All students in Year 7 are tested throughout the year to determine their levels of competency in Maths, English and Science. At the end of that 7^th grade year they are then streamed/tracked into classes for the following year based on competency: from 8-1 as the top class to 8-5 or 8-6 on the bottom, depending on the number of students at the school. That class is where they will spend the next three years of high school, with very little chance for movement between classes except in extreme situations and more likely down than up. At that point it is common knowledge that of the say 120 kids in Year 8, only the top 30 have about a 50% chance to go to university, based on statistics from Cardiff and a number of other local schools. The other common knowledge is that all the other 90 kids have to do is show up regularly and take all their exams, not necessarily pass them, just take them, in order to earn their School Certificate after Year 10 ( that is sophomore year for us yanks). At that point, the majority of students do not return to school for Years 11 or 12, but opt to either go right to manual labor type work or secure an apprenticeship.

Please understand that I do not know if this is a good system or not and I make no pretence to judge it on a global good or bad basis. It seems to work for them and it is apparent from our observations that the country is run and wealth is held by the elite 10% and the rest of the people seem pretty equal socio-economically and generally pretty comfortable – they sure travel enough and have plenty of money for food and recreation.

What I do know about this particular education system is that it is difficult to be a teacher in this system as you have most of the classes, really all but the top class, that have no need/desire/motivation to perform at school because there is no upside and very little, if any, consequence for poor performance and poor behavior. So for the most part, the lower classes become a social arena and activity for kids to pass the 190 days per year until they make it to the end of Year 10. Not the easiest teaching situation and my heart goes out to all the educators here that keep working to find ways to engage and motivate the unmotivated. Sometimes it works and I have heard about kids making the leap from 9-3 to 9-2 and then 9-1 over the course of the year. But, that is not the norm. Mostly the lower classes are so unruly and the learning environment is so difficult that it is not possible for a kid to rise to the next level even it they really want to. Surrender to what is.

Now that I understand this all better it is easier to plan my lessons each day and adjust my expectations accordingly. I focus my differentiation efforts on the Year 7s that I can tell have a shot at top class and try to keep the others moving forward at a reasonable pace. I continually seek new ideas and lessons to motivate my 9-3 class, who have come along pretty nicely and are more often working in class these days than kicking the soccer ball or building paper airplanes as they had been doing the first few weeks. I daily celebrate the survival of one more class with my 10-4’s who are the scariest bunch of kids I have ever been left alone in a classroom with but who, in all sincerity, have told me repeatedly that they are doing more Maths for me this year than any year in their past. And finally, I have the pleasure of teaching the 8-1 Maths class this year and they are the joy of my teaching. They are, to a student, polite, receptive, eager, responsible and fun to be around. My one concern is that I must be careful to not take them too far too fast. Last week I introduced them to challenging two-step equation solving in one day, i.e. 3n + 5 = -22 and by the end of that hour there was 90% mastery.

In terms of the faculty, I am thrilled to know these folks. They are kind, helpful, funny and overall good “mates”. They are committed to doing their jobs and are clearly limited and frustrated by the system. They do a great job making the best of the situation and focus on their mates as a way of being engaged in the school.

The administration seems very caring and eager to make improvements, though somewhat powerless against the children’s attitudes and the state's policies.

I do love the hours, 9 to 3:20, and the term breaks, 2 weeks of “holiday” after each 10 week term. I also enjoy wearing shorts to school each day and being close enough to school to use my bike as my main mode of transport. I have become very fond of many of the kids, particularly a group of year 10’s (mostly from the top class of course) that I do sport with each week. A couple of weeks ago two of the boys took me out boogie boarding into the big waves (1.5 meter though they looked 3) – it was a hoot and at school the next day they told some of the other kids that “Sir rocks!”.

Overall I am in a good place these days and look forward to the rest of the year – helping the kids who want it and understanding the rest with a gentler view. And of course enjoying this amazing adventure with my wonderful family and sharing it with all of you.

Blessings on you and yours,

Mark

Sydney

Photo by Phyllis Bertke (my mother)

We finally made it to Sydney. Though it is only 2 hours away, we've but skirted this city in the time we've lived in Australia so far. Mark, sadly, had to miss this trip as it was mid-week so I took the kids out of school and we drove down and stayed there on Tuesday and Wednesday in a hotel with my parents. (While we were gone, Mark played golf and ate at McDonalds. He promised his students he'd visit the Maccahs (pronounced MACK-ahs) in Australia and let them know how it compared to Maccahs in the US. He has done his research and in his report he announces that they are exactly the same. Good to know.)



What a beautiful city! We spent time at the aquarium, Darling Harbor, Sydney Harbor, Circular Quay and the Botanic Gardens--all the tourist hot spots for those of you who've been there. I was impressed with the amount of open space and gardens in the middle of one of the biggest cities in the world. Someone was really thinking when they began to develop this area and chose not to cover every hill, slope and valley with buildings. It was truly a lovely city to walk around and I am a good strong critic of places with too many people and their debris.







This is Mr. Incredi-Bubble. He made everyone who passed him by smile.












We have our share of the typical sight-seeing and eating out at good restaurant stories which I will spare you. But there are two stories in particular that I wanted to write about--one more appealing than the other.

The more disturbing story first: We were on our way to dinner on Tuesday evening around 6:30 and we decided to walk the distance to the restaurant which was only about 12-15 blocks, all told. A few blocks into our walk, as we were waiting at a cross walk with throngs of other people, an obviously drunk and likely mentally ill woman approached the kids and me. She was slurring and stumbling and talking loud in our faces, at first just saying hello mostly to the kids. We tried not to react. The kids were nervous, holding my hands and hiding behind me. When the light turned green and we began to cross the street, she got angry and started yelling at us, "That's my daughter. She has my daughter!" It was clear that this woman was going to be more than just an annoyance so the kids and I picked up our pace while my parents and about a dozen other people tried to block her access to us. I was impressed with how safe I felt with all the other pedestrians telling us they would keep her away, suggesting we walk in the middle of the big group they formed around us. The upshot is that it took us about 15 minutes to lose her. We hid in stores while my stepfather watched her and let us know when the coast was clear only to have her reappear on the next corner. Then we'd duck into another store and wait some more. We finally lost her and made it to our restaurant safe and sound and never saw her again, though you can bet we talked about her for the rest of the night. The kids were both terrified. They insisted we take the monorail back to the hotel which, of course, we did.

It was an unfortunate situation though I felt for this woman who was so lost in her world. I shudder to think what the rest of her night was like. But the most interesting parts of that incident were the conversations the kids initiated the rest of the night and next morning. We talked about schizophrenia and medication and alcoholism.

Gabe's questions came out in machine-gun fashion: If medication would help, why won't she take it and who is going to help her get it? Does she have a home and if so, who is going to help her get back there? If alcohol makes people do that why is there alcohol? She can't get us on the monorail because she wouldn't be able to walk up the stairs, right?

Jordan's comments were precious: "It is a good thing we are already sleeping in the same bed tonight, Mama." And, "The scared is so big I don't have any room left for thoughts of food." And on we went. I have to say that navigating their questions was even more difficult than navigating the streets of Sydney with that woman out there. I had to remind myself that part of traveling and having adventures would be eye-opening in ways I wouldn't necessarily be prepared for.

The second story happened while the kids were fast asleep (Grandma took my place in bed early in the morning so no one woke up alone in the hotel room) and I went running. This was possibly the most breathtaking run I've had since I left Colorado, and I run along the ocean at sunrise almost every morning in Newcastle. I ran through the park in the middle of the busy city, and it was plenty busy at 6:00am on a Wednesday morning. And then I headed out toward the harbor. I started off along the left side of the piece of land that juts out and creates the right side of the harbor. First, I ran by a harbor-side pool where I think the Olympic swimmers were practicing. There were heaps of them doing laps quicker than any other swimmers I'd ever seen. They may or may not have been Olympic swimmers but they sure weren't your recreational swimmers out for an early morning workout. Next I ran along the botanic gardens though not through them yet as I was eager to get to the harbor and see the Opera House for the first time.

I came out from under the canopy of huge trees at the end of the land that framed the harbor and onto a lookout spot. Here, I stopped running. In front of me was the harbor and directly across the harbor was the Sydney Opera House. And directly behind the Opera House, stretched the Harbor Bridge. Behind the bridge, the cityscape and behind me, rose the sun. It was one of the most spectacular scenes I have ever seen.

After taking this in for a few moments, I ran along the inside of the harbor now toward the Opera House. All of this running was on bike paths, by the way and it was all done in the company of about 1.2 million other runners. It didn't feel crowded though, just populated. As I neared the Opera House, I was aware of my growing excitement and I began to see that I was going to be able to run right up to it. There is something deeply moving that I imagine happens inside many of us, maybe most of us, when we see in person something so famous, so widely talked about and so unique. That was happening in me. That alive feeling, that feeling of being a part of history and future, of being a part of this huge world that contains The White House, the Taj Mahal and the Sydney Opera House. I used to get this feeling when I was in Washington DC staying with my father and I'd ride my bike right around the National Monument or walk right up to the Lincoln Memorial and touch the words on the wall.

So I ran around the Opera House and learned that the white tops are made of tile.














I'd always wondered what they were made of. Not metal, not canvas, not some mysterious material unique to the Opera House but ceramic on top of cement, in case you were curious yourself.

From there, I ran almost under the Harbor Bridge, along Circular Quay, which is where all the ferries, trains and buses access Sydney Harbor from surrounding areas. On my way back to the hotel, I ran through the Botanic Gardens which are vast and gorgeous and, incidentally, laid out all upside down, making it hard for a runner to find her way home once she's in there.

It was such a fabulous section of the world that I took my kids and parents down the same path I ran down so I got to see it all again at a slower pace later that morning. I highly recommend Sydney to anyone who's remotely interested. Two days was enough for me, however. The time came to get this country girl out of the belly of the busy city.

From there, we brought my parents back up the road to Newcastle where they stayed with us for a week. And here are some pictures I've stolen from my mother the photographer:


This is one of the resident koalas at the Blackbutt Reserve by our house.















Next, we have a few of the 15,000 bats who live at Blackbutt and who are supposed to be sleeping during the day like the crew on the left. But every time we walk through here, we find plenty who are wide awake like these guys on the right.































This is a lorikeet--a very shy bird. And this is a picture only my mother could take.









Gabe just recently turned eight and so we invited eight kids to his party in a park. Here they are eating cake:

















And here is what they looked like the other two hours and twenty five minute of the 2 1/2 hour party:

This is the first, though probably not the last, year that Mark was fully in charge of the activities at the party.

And now, just three days before we leave for our two-week holiday in Perth and the west coast, I am caught up with the blog. Phew! I don't know if I'll write from Western Australia or wait until I get home so if you don't hear from me, just know we will be back in touch soon! We love you all and hope you are all well and happy...

Jervis Bay with the Exchange Teachers

Throughout this year, an Australian cohort of past exchange teachers will put together activities for current exchange teachers to attend if we choose. It's really a wonderful offering and they do it voluntarily. It would be like us coming home next year and hosting all the current Australians who are living in Colorado for a weekend, say, in Crested Butte.

Two weekends ago, we got to spend the weekend with exchange teachers from Colorado, Washington State, The UK, Scotland, Ireland and Canada in an area about 5 hours south of here called Jervis Bay. Few quick orientation facts--it was much cooler than Newcastle and the water was fr-fr-fr-freezing. We didn't go in. We saw far fewer people and inhabited areas than we're accustomed to seeing in Newcastle and north of here. I hadn't realized how much I missed the New Zealand flavor of the rich, green untouched land. On our drive down, we saw leaves changing on trees which we hadn't seen in Newcastle (though this week it is beginning here too). We saw rolling, green pastures and farm land with old trees the size of hot air balloons lining the drainage paths in the crooks between the hills.

We stayed at a university satellite location on a reserve that is completely owned and managed by aboriginals--so they can keep their land in the condition they see fit and allow visitors on their terms. The campus we were on had a huge kitchen, communal bathrooms and tiny little cabins that looked a bit like jail cells before we laid out our sleeping bags and freed our clothes from our duffle bags.







This is Jordan feeding a wild King Parrot (though we don't think this was the parrot's first time being fed)









Just a cute little tidbit that I don't want to forget: the kids slept in their own little room next door to ours (walls thin enough to hear each other softly snoring) with bunk beds. Jordan chose the top bunk. The first night there, they each crawled in bed, pretty excited about having their own room. We said good-night and went back to the big kitchen where the adult party was going on. About 10 minutes later, I went back to check on them and they were laying right next to each other on the bottom bunk, half asleep and all cuddled up together. Apparently, we learned the next morning in detail, Jordan couldn't sleep. Gabe said, "Try falling asleep for 10 more minutes and if you can't then you can come down and sleep with me." Something like 10 minutes passed and she let him know she was still awake so he told her to come down and so she did. They both reported sleeping soundly all night long.

Anyway, chatting with the other teachers and spouses of teachers was probably the most interesting part of this weekend. Many teachers, if not most teachers, are struggling with the same issues Mark is. Many teachers are having a significantly worse time than Mark is. Some people are pretty unhappy with the part of Australia they are living in. Many people seem to have been handed the challenge of accepting what is and finding the good in it. It was sort of disheartening to hear all the frustrations and struggles. I was surprised there were so many. There were also some people who were having a blast and saw their teaching situation as just a downside to this whole year. There was only one person who is standing out in my mind right now who truly enjoys their teaching experience. Otherwise, the complaints were mainly about the frustrating lack of resources and the incredible discipline problems. Most people were enjoying their co-workers. But on the whole, this was a pretty upbeat group of people and there were a number of them we really enjoyed. We all welcomed each other into our homes and made sketchy plans to come stay in their different towns. I left there feeling indescribably lucky that our final match of the four that came our way was in Newcastle as it is clear to me now that we could have been placed in a pretty undesirable part of the country. Thank you Prue for choosing to come to Colorado!!


We went on a dolphin watching cruise (and as I may have said in an earlier blog, it is my opinion that these sorts of cruises should all be about 45 minutes long rather than 2.5 hours but what are you gonna do?)













And here is one of the many ways we found to entertain ourselves during the remaining two hours we weren't actually watching dolphins...this is Jordan being a bottlenosed dolphin.




The highlight of the weekend was a several hour long, intimate presentation by two aboriginal people who came to share with us their culture and history. They were very personable, hilarious and extremely informative. We learned about a piece of grass that, if you pull it out by the root, which looks like the white part of a celery stick, and blow on it, it will emit a high pitched sound. The vibration of that sound will be picked up by snakes both friendly and deadly, and they will come to see from where the vibration is coming. This is how aboriginals brought snakes out of the bush. They'd be ready with a rock that they'd throw at them to kill them for dinner. They told us about a time they were presenting to a group of children at a school and some time later, a child was blowing on this grass in the playground and a red-headed black snake (very deadly) came slithering out of its hiding place to visit the children. They made us promise we wouldn't try that on our own.

I was affected by hearing so many stories about aboriginal life, specifically about how pure their culture was before white people intruded and how much has been lost for them in recent times. I am heartened by those who are finding their way back to their roots. These people seemed to have a gift to merge cultures without denigrating either.







We did go in the water on our last morning not because it was warm but because it was irresistible. You could swim out quite far and be way over your head and still see the bottom.







We returned home on Sunday afternoon, the kids went to one day of school on Monday and then we were off to Sydney to meet my parents on Tuesday morning. Next blog...Sydney