Tag: Education

Lent

Day 37: STN: Closing Time

Alexandra Diane

During the first night of STN, we celebrated our awards. Seminole Ridge took home two third place and one second place awards. This is nothing to scoff at. Our kids worked their asses off this year. The news kids far more than the film kids. As we waited our turn to take pictures on the stage, the DJ began playing closing time. Part of me wanted to yell at him because one we earned our time to take this picture and two, the song isn’t about the bar closing. It’s about a chapter of the songwriter’s life ending. He was becoming a father and welcoming his baby girl into his life. But as I thought about that, I couldn’t think of a more appropriate song.

My students who are graduating this year are closing a giant chapter in their life. In three short months, a large portion of the thirty students I chaperoned will be heading off to college, while others will attend vocational school. But it doesn’t matter where their future is. They all have the same thing in front of them. The world is for them to take.

 I saw students that have screwed around for most of the year create an amazing news package. And with all honesty, I really wanted to smack them. Their work was professional. In all honesty, it surpassed some of the news packages that aired on the news station where I worked. I just wish they put the same effort into my film class as they did during this competition. Unfortunately, they didn’t even earn an honorable mention. 

Another pair of students that I watched worked took home honorable mention. Watching somebody who is usually a goofball transform into a professional was astounding. To see him work as a photographer like I have seen other seasoned photographer’s work gave me hope. He listened to everything his partner asked him. He never once changed her story, but he provided her with ideas about how the camera should be placed. But the moment the shoot was over, he went back to being a goofball. Which is pretty appropo for a photog. You should see what type of hungry fiends they turn into during the political season. No pizza is safe. 

Some of our young female journalists did not make the cut to place this year. And my heart breaks for them because this was their last year to win. In the past, our school brought home a truckload of awards. However, the judges were different this year. They critiqued much harder than the previous years. Even the board of directors, who is a friend of my co teacher, said that this year’s winners were quarters of a point off from those who didn’t place.

That’s amazing and depressing all at once. The bar has been raised and we need to work harder. That means that the sophomores that we brought with us are going to have to work three times as hard as those that are graduating this year. My juniors had a hunger as we flew home to Florida. They know the work that they have to put into it. Some sophomores seemed to not care while others showed a passion and a drive that is going to make them placed in the years to come. 

Unfortunately, judging is not everything that held us down. We shot ourselves in the foot from the beginning. Our vlog team kept fighting. And by the time they could finally sort things out and put egos aside, they wasted far too much time. It wasn’t just in California that they battled it out. Who would be on camera and who wouldn’t? They wasted a bunch of time back home, given the chance to practice. Aside from them, our film team was green. Not just age wise, but experience. Part of the fault is mine. This was my first time in a major competition, so I did not know what to expect. Two of our seniors, this was also their first time. And while we had someone experienced on our team, jealousy and anxiety overtook their ability to perform. The student also lost my trust. Sadly, this student got caught up in gossip and started a rumor of their own. They claimed that our strongest editor wasn’t skilled in their own right, but I did the work for them. 

This rumor was nothing more than utter nonsense. That student has heard me say time and time again, “if I wanted to edit I wouldn’t be teaching.” Which is 100% the truth. It’s just sad that I have gone out of my way for this student and in a moment of weakness, they had to bring down someone on their team. What’s even worse is I heard it on an accidental recording and that student lied to my face when confronted. 

But I will not let this moment or our lack of awards bring us down in the future. 

In the next two years, we have an advantage. Instead of Long Beach, California, we’re going to be in Tampa Bay, Florida. It’s just a quick drive across the state and one that we will scout out locations. One that we know the history of the city and all its dirty secrets. However, we’re not the only ones with the advantage. Over 200 awards were given out in Long Beach, California, with more than half awarded to students living in southeast Florida. Every single one of those schools has the same opportunity as we do. And I know a bunch of schools will take advantage of that opportunity.

So now, as closing time plays on my radio, all I can think of is that the chapter is closed. The point where we could take home award after award is over. Students from across the country, and now internationally, have come to compete. Our students have to step up. But I have 100% know that our kids are competitive. They have a drive needed to win. And for those students graduating, becoming young adults, they are going to do amazing things.

So who are we?! 

Hawks!!! 

Lent

Day 10: A taste of our future

Alexandra Diane

What advice would you give to your teenage self?

I haven’t been a teenager for a very long time. Over twenty years have passed since I had high expectations of what my life may be. I think back to what my life goals were and how much pressure I put on myself in some areas, and how I let the world pass by in others. Sometimes I wish I had more guidance on real life struggles rather than the obsessive thought process of college. However, none of that compares to the conversation I would have loved to have had with my fifteen-year-old self. 

I would love to hold her and tell her to let go of all her pain. She is beautiful and the pain she feels daily will one day fade away. That she isn’t crazy or a hypochondriac, the doctors that she’s been going to have been awful. Instead of doing the research, they were lazy and failed her. But her mother never did. She needs to appreciate how much her mom does, spending many days off in and out of the doctors trying to find out why her daughter’s body is attacking itself. 

I would tell her to watch for her brother. He’s suffering in his own way. He bottles up his emotions and releases them in the only way his brain can process. What you do for your four years of high school pulls him from his dark place. But keep doing that in college. You don’t want to lose your bother. Thankfully, you don’t. However, you won’t find out until years later you came close to it.

Your older cousin becomes more than that. She fills the void of an older sister. One that you are so desperate to fill. Even though she is 16 hours away, she becomes your best support throughout all the emotional struggles you go through as a young adult. Virgina becomes your solace and eventually you two travel the world with each other. Yes, you have friends outside of blood, but you will be so surprised by how close you two become. 

You are about to meet two of your closest friends in high school. You’ll spend four years studying film in high school, then go to college, and eventually work together before she moves to Virginia. Instead of mourning your loss, you two make plans to spend your summers together, because, as fate would have it, somehow you both end up working in education. Your other friend will also be by your side in college, though she drops out. Your kids have grown up with each other, or as much as you can, for having three kids in sports. P.S., that’s like the hardest thing about being an adult.

The bond you make with another you’ve shared the same name with since first grade is out of a pain no one should endure. Fail first marriages, abuse, rebuilding one another. Nevertheless, there is something to be said about this. Alex’s are strong. We are tenacious. We are crazy but support each other. 

You will meet two people in college, one male, one female in the strangest of places. The male you meet at a hookah bar during an open mic night. He now knows your innermost secrets and you torture him daily about finishing editing your writings. He is your best friend outside your husband who we will get to in a minute. Your female friend becomes your other half. You met her at a gymnastic studio and bond over how annoying children are when they are trying to kill themselves on a balance beam. 

Lastly, love. Don’t worry about love. Don’t search for love. I want to tell you to avoid all the pain that I have gone through. But that pain has made us strong. It has made us reliant. Those dark moments give us the ability to bond with the man who gave you your first kiss. He reaches out to you after what feels like a lifetime. You don’t know it then, but you’ve saved him. He was going to eat a bullet, but the universe stopped him when you said “Hi” thirteen years later. 

Actually, your friendship has saved many people. You never give up on those who are diving into the darkness. You are that annoying friend who won’t let people wallow in their misery and that’s sort of passed on to teaching.

So 15-year-old Alex… hold your breath. Shit is about to get real. 

Lent, Teaching

Day 6: I’m tellin’ y’all, it’s sabotage

Alexandra Diane

Today was a teacher’s work day. Students were supposed to be off, teachers were supposed to be in meetings, and having the chance to organize their lives. However for me that wasn’t the case. The TV production students are preparing for the Student Television Network (STN) competition out in Long Beach California. They will be participating in the team challenge Crazy 8 as well as individual challenges for two other days. 

The Crazy 8 challenge is two fold. We have news students and film students. The film students are given a title, a character line, prop, and shot required to be seen through the film. They have eight hours to write, film, and edit the final cut. The news students are given a topic, like “service with a smile,” to create a newscast around. They also have the same eight hour window. 

Last month when we held a mock competition I was right with my students. Held them to their times, reviewed their script, gave them suggestions on their shots. But we were unable to repeat the same magic. I had to participate in mandatory training which meant the students were on their own. I peeked at their final script and cringed but there was nothing I could do. They had to manage it on their own. 

There was more than just a poor script that sabotaged them. The location they based their story on was closed due to it being president’s day. The crew wasted an hour trying to find a new location and rewrite their script. While they adjusted the story there were still major plot holes. The script lacked a true first act. We were thrown into a fight between the only characters in the short film. There was nothing redeeming about them and I even texted a student about fixing the problem, however they did not take my advice. 

When we were all able to finally meet together the cast and crew were actually cordial with each other. While the editor got to work the rest of the crew relaxed and we started planning what we will be doing in California. This was a high contrast to the news students who were running around in a panic. There were attitudes being thrown left and right. One student came in and screamed at their partners. While I understand frustrations run high in a competition that is no way to treat the people you rely on. I am insanely petty and if my partner would have spoken to me in that way I would have flipped the bird and told that human to figure it out on their own. I know I have done that in the professional world. 

While that student was being handled by the news teacher, I was watching our editor break down. While our shoots were beautiful the audio was trash. Adobe has a new AI podcast web based element that helps clean up audio. We tried that and it resulted in the whole room laughing. Instead of fixing things it made the two actors turn into a mix of minions and chipmunks that sucked about seventeen helium balloons. Although this was not the result we were looking for, it did make us laugh. It was the mental break we needed after coming to the conclusion there was no saving the audio in the small window we had left. The editor took a song that fit (ish) the mood of the film and prayed it would mask all the issues. 

** Plot twist, it did not.**

When it came time to watch the news cast and film the problems followed. First the short film that the students submitted was not the three minutes that we shot.  It was only 49 seconds long. While my co-teacher / mentor teased the students about checking the exports, he pulled up the newscast. It was supposed to be 8 minutes long, however it was only 42 seconds. That’s when the whole class burst out laughing and teasing one another. The students who submitted the files opened the files, and at first glance they looked correct. The time codes gave the proper time, however when playing out the videos they both stopped at the 40ish mark. They were corrupted. We waited for the files to be fixed and then returned to watching the projects. 

The film students covered their heads and avoided stares from the news students. Of course our garbage sound was not covered by the music. And while we watched I just cringed waiting for it to end. I couldn’t connect with the characters. The varying audio levels made my ears want to bleed. As soon as it ended my co-teacher repeated all the comments that I had made during our editing process. 

When we started the news students project things started to go well. Although they had some soft focus shots their levels were far better than our film. Everything was going pretty smooth until a news package was cut short. That’s when my co-teacher ripped apart the news cast.

This was supposed to be our last practice before the competition. But this is not what not the level of work any of these students usually produced. I kept suggesting over and over again that we needed to hold another practice. That way we had a clean palette and no shame hovering over us. Eventually all students agreed as well as my co-teacher. So hopefully this extra practice will ensure that we won’t sabotage ourselves in California. 

Writing

Do what terrifies you

Alexandra Diane
Bloganuary writing prompt
What’s the thing you’re most scared to do? What would it take to get you to do it?
View all responses

I’ve taken bold steps like skydiving, leaving my old life behind to live in a foreign country where I didn’t speak the language, and transitioning my career from something I’ve done since I was fifteen years old – to teaching teenagers. However, I find nothing as terrifying as sharing my writing with the world. If skydiving takes a wrong turn, I’m dead. If living in a foreign country doesn’t work for me (which it really, really, really, didn’t) I could just return home. And my students will eventually graduate, leaving whatever memories of me to just that, memories. But when I bare my heart and soul into my work, I am leaving myself exposed to criticism from the world. I am allowing strangers a chance to read my work and comment on what I’ve shared. 

Growing up, I would write short stories and scripts. I didn’t know how to write in proper screenplay format, but that didn’t stop me. I would warn whoever read my work that I was still learning, and they were my friends. They didn’t know any better. But something happened when I reached college. I still wrote as an escape, especially from math class, but I stopped sharing my work with nearly everyone. I went from sharing my work with anyone who had an email address to just a very select group of people. I became terrified of two things: 

  1. People not liking my writing and telling me it was trash.
  2. I didn’t want anyone to know I had severe dyslexia. 

I was an awful speller and had atrocious grammar. Part of me feels that the public school system failed me. However, after working in the system, I know it did, but it wasn’t the teachers’ fault. So much red tape ties their hands that it is nearly impossible for them to actually teach. But that is a story for a different day. I didn’t become secure with my writing until I graduated from college. Even then, I had to break out of the technical academic writing and return to the creative style I love most. 

My biggest breakthrough was working with my writing life partner that I’ve tortured for nearly the last decade. We would spend hours going over my work in google docs. Watching him live, edit my writing, and explain what I’ve done wrong was better than any degree I could have achieved. He helped me understand the points that I missed in school. I’m sure they were taught at some point, but my young brain didn’t absorb the information. Another thing he did was tell me when my work was trash. But he didn’t just say, “Alex, this is shit.” He would say, “Alex, this is shit because….” and we would work on expanding and correcting the issues. Our edit sessions have whittled because of time as we have grown older. Kids have gotten in the way of my hobbies. He, apparently, has something called a life. However, he has not been released from his blood oath of helping me finish my work 🙂 

Time, care, and attention is what pushed me through my darkest moments as a writer. I’ve learned time and time again that the masses may not enjoy my work. However, I learned to appreciate those who like my work. Maybe one day I’ll be a famous author. Maybe I won’t. But I won’t let my fears trap me again. 

Teaching, Writing

Well, I’m not okay.

Alexandra Diane

Hormones and body dysmorphia is fun.

When your brain thinks it’s still in its twenties but you’re closer to forty. You looked at my hands and wondered who they belong to? Why do they seem to belong to a person who is decades older than you? You wonder if someone has replaced my skin with an alligator’s. There are days when you wonder how you’re an adult and you need an adultier adult to fix the situation, but you are the adultier adult now.

I wonder how I’m in charge of helping the three young beings grow into being adults. It feels overwhelming and exhausting and rewarding all at the same time. I wonder if I’m going to fail? How much will I give to watch them succeed? I know I will never give up, but how much of myself will I have to sacrifice for them?

I feel the same way about my students.

 I know my seniors, for the most part, really don’t give a fuck.

They just want to graduate and get out of school. I grasp that mindset completely. I wanted to do the same thing at their age. But my younger students I work hand in hand with. I try to make sure, as many of them as possible, understand what we are doing and how to create different things. But it’s just so frustrating and demoralizing when some of your students either won’t do the work or lie to their parents and say that I don’t care. I can only do so much. I am only one person. But I will never brush a student aside. I am always willing to help them. I make myself available outside school hours; they have my phone number, and know that they can text me if there’s ever an issue. I just really wish sometimes I could record my classes and show the students who put no effort and how I call them out in class. When I ask them where their assignment is and show their parents the shrug or nonchalant response that I receive. You would think I was asking them to recreate End Game instead of requesting them to put just the tiniest bit of effort into their schoolwork.

I have enough shit on my plate to deal with. I’m not completely sure why I thought being a teacher could be rewarding. Thankfully, transitioning to high school there have been more positive days than bad. However, on days like this, where I already hate myself, I just wonder if it is easier to return to the newsroom. Maybe 2am wake-up calls weren’t truly that bad. 

Bloganuary

The College Try

Alexandra Diane
Bloganuary writing prompt
If you could un-invent something, what would it be?
View all responses

I’m a millennial *queue annoying montage of people saying that over and over again.* But I am and growing up we were force fed the idea that college was our only option for a good life. However, as we know now, our generation is the over educated and grossly underpaid. So when the topic of “If you could un-invent something, what would it be?” was presented, I had a bunch of options run through my head. Did I wish for social media to disappear? Could bombs not been invented? Maybe I wished for AI to vanish? But as I was driving to work, a different thought crossed my mind. I wish the push for college education had never been invented. 

Now I can hear people saying that colleges have been around for hundreds of years. But I am not talking about being rid of higher education. I am talking about the propaganda that college is the only option for a successful future. I’m pretty sure my generation is a prime example of what can go wrong in a short amount of time if we rid ourselves of trades. We have a world filled with consumers and hardly any people who know how to produce. People complain about how hard it is to find someone to fix their AC or plumbing. Well yeah, we were told growing up that those jobs were beneath us. That no one of value should want to work with their hands. But now we’re seeing how untrue that logic is. 

There’s a social media trend discussing how millennials are skipping the midlife crisis phase and jumping right onto “grandparent hobbies.” I mean, do you blame us? We burnt out. We didn’t spend our lives outside like wild men like our parents did. Our parents kept a watchful eye on us because they had the chance to be free. They wanted us to experience opportunities they never had, and the advancement of technology pushed us in that direction. We were the generation of kids who took AP classes and dual enrollment classes, so we had a head start on college. Millennials don’t need to have a midlife crisis. Most of us had one during college or our twenties, as the world fell to shit for the third time. 

Now I look at my gen-z students and see how that process has amplified. Some of the most creative kids are being told they are failures because they don’t test well. However, I am proud of my school because we have a construction and automotive academy. These are amazing opportunities for our students to work with their hands. Also, my program of TV production is another outlet for students to challenge themselves outside of core classes. Within these programs, we are pushing students to earn their certification for the software or skills they have learned. Certifications are being more sought by employers over college degrees. We are giving students the opportunity to obtain them without the high cost they would have to pay if they were an adult trying to earn them. 

The shift in employers’ expectations is giving me hope for the younger generation. May now they will branch out into other professions without the stigma my generation faced. It would be nice to see blue-collar jobs appreciated for their worth. Because if we don’t have HVAC technicians, plumbers, mechanics of any kind, our world will fall apart. We need to encourage students to get out there and get dirty. Not everyone is meant to sit in an office all day. Not everyone is meant to write a twenty-page paper on the meaning of the color red in a film. Some people are meant to build homes, have grease under their fingernails, and make sure the world can still run. We need those people. 

Bloganuary, Writing

As a Mother, Educator, or Writer?

Alexandra Diane
Daily writing prompt
What is your mission?
View all responses

The prompt today is: What’s your mission? But that’s not a straightforward question to answer. I wear many hats, so how do I know which mission they are asking about? So I’ll answer for all. 

As a mother, my mission is not to raise assholes. Children are only children for such a short time. They will spend a majority of their lives beyond my home and care, making it my duty to raise decent humans. I know it may be a silly concept, but I am not talking about raising people pleasers either. I want my children to know when to be respectful, when to reach out to those in need, and be able to work with others. To know right from wrong, when to seek help or when to problem solve. More importantly, I want them to know when to stand up for themselves and how to leave a dangerous situation. 

Parenting is about love and care, and so is teaching. My course is an elective, a choice program that students apply to be a part of. It is considered a career and technical educational course. And for me, it’s so much more than teaching students how to use a camera and edit. I heavily focus my projects on critical thinking and problem solving. I want my students to understand how to research their topics and find credible sources. The aim is to expose the dangers of unquestioning information and to showcase the ease false information can be created. I usually go off script when students are required to engage in the school-wide Mental Health lessons. Most teachers just have the student watch the videos and answer the questions and leave it at that. The students find the lessons to be a waste of time because they include dated examples. However, I speak to the class about my personal life experiences that relate to the lessons. Many students have thanked me because they feel uneasy or need time to process the information after the lessons. After the Techsafe lesson, I have all my students take out their cellphones. I explain to them how metadata works and show them how their pictures create a map of everywhere they have gone. We then go through their settings and turn off different location trackers.

As for being a writer, I don’t have a mission for anyone aside from myself. Writing is therapy. Sometimes I use it to express emotions and negative feelings, and other times to share thoughts I don’t want to keep to myself. I have had thoughts that have been beneficial to others and have found the readers who needed to know they are not alone. However, I don’t market my work or seek attention for what I write. I write for myself, be it my blog, my short stories, or my book. I write because it is a passion, not a mission to make money.  

Bloganuary

My College Selection Process

Alexandra Diane
Daily writing prompt
What colleges have you attended?
View all responses

I could sum up today’s prompt in one word. What colleges have you attended? One, just one. But what fun would it be to end the conversation with just a word? It wouldn’t at all. If I left it up to the simple word of one, you wouldn’t know all that went into picking where I had my college experience. I look back at my reasons now and laugh. I’ve spent the last few months listening to stressed-out seniors freaking out about their college decisions. Part of me wonders if I should have put more pressure on myself, but in the end, it doesn’t matter where I earned my degree from. I wouldn’t change anything. 

When I started high school, I absolutely knew what I wanted to do with my life when I graduated: I wanted to be a marine biologist. I had spent nearly all my summers at marine biology camp studying fish and ocean life. Basically living at the beach for as much as someone could without a car and watching documentaries on marine life. While the internet wasn’t like it is today, I did as much research as I could about my future career. That was until I took my first biology class. I realized I’d rather swim in the ocean surrounded by fish than I liked the actual science behind the creatures. 

I felt perplexed. I had spent the last three young years of my life thinking I would dedicate my future to the study and survival of the marine world, and now I wanted nothing to do with it. I still loved spending time at the beach. However, it was more for an escape and a place to be rather than study. I shifted gears from marine biologist to an underwater videographer. I figured I could blend my two passions together. 

I spent countless hours in my guidance counselor’s office trying to figure out what college would suit me best. God knows how much of that poor woman’s time I wasted. She was sweet and indulged my dreams. Looking back, I can see how she guided me in the best way she could, finding schools that dealt with ocean studies and still had a film department. Either way, I was doomed, because pursuing a career in film is just as challenging as marine biology. I am not sure when my gears shifted from the underwater world to the surface, but eventually I focused only on a communication degree. 

I remember some people asking what I planned on doing with my future, especially because I wasn’t seeking a journalism or a film degree. I told them I didn’t know. I know I enjoyed directing our student run newscast, but I also loved creative writing. At one point, I didn’t even want to get a degree and wanted to dive right into work. But my mom persuaded me to earn my degree, just in case I changed my mind. 

My choice in a more open degree allowed me more freedom in picking where I could go to school over my friends who were seeking a more specific degree. I knew I had to stay in Florida; I had earned bright futures, and out-of-state tuition was insanely expensive. My parents and I discussed different schools. Orlando had UCF, St. Augustine had Flagler College, Tallahassee had FSU, Jacksonville had UNF, and Gainesville had UF. My SAT scores ruled out UF and, for some reason, I had no interest in FSU. 

The university I toured was UCF. While the campus was pretty and was in very close relations with Disney and Universal, my mom and I had a weird vibe about the school. The tour guide focused on the engineering building. When we asked them to show us the film school, the person just pointed in the general direction and said we could go look after the tour was over. Now this wouldn’t be such a problem if the majors were mixed, but the tour was for communication and film majors, and yet the person outright refused to show us the film school. 

My students would be shocked if I told them this. UCF is where most Florida film students go now as their backup school if they do not get accepted into FSU’s film school. However, this was nearly two decades ago, and I’m not sure if the program had the same notoriety as it does now. 

Another hit the school had against it was its distance from the beach. Although I said I was focused on above water production, I still went to the beach in my free time. The thought of driving over an hour instead of the usual ten minutes was not appealing to me. Yes, I know this makes me sound a bit spoiled, but growing up in South Florida allows us certain luxuries that other places do not. We also spend a good portion of the year boiling from the sun and six months out of the year praying that hurricanes don’t hit, but it’s a give and take. The beach was my happy place and brought me peace, and I was certain I would need it in college. My mental health became more of a priority than I realized. 

The next university we looked at was FAU in Boca Raton. I knew little about the school, other than it was 45 minutes from my parents’ house and dangerously close to the beach. When we got to the campus, it was beautiful, filled with trees and history. The campus was initially built as an air force base during WWII. Despite the campus’ growing popularity and updates, remnants of its military past remained. Some of the old dorms were once barracks, and the breezeway was a runway. Our tour guide shared a lot of information about the school’s history, including Nazi submarines near the coast during the war. The tour of the campus had a different vibe than UCF. The students we saw looked relaxed and having fun. When we asked the tour guide about the communication program, they promptly took us over to the Art and Letters building and broke down what the school offered. They also informed us about two more campuses that housed the production classes. 

When we left the school, I felt comfortable, unlike when I left UFC. I knew a lot of my friends were applying to UCF and had plans to work for Disney and Universal, but I knew my path wasn’t the same. My mom asked when I wanted to go tour Flager and I said I didn’t want to. I wanted to go to FAU. She asked what if I didn’t get in? I laughed because no one got rejected from FAU. I told her I liked how the tour guides seemed excited about the school they went to. The school was small, so I would have more intimate classes. I also liked that I could take film, theater and any other classes that I was interested in without getting off track for my degree. Also, I loved how the tour guide brought up if there were a few hours between classes how easy it was to go to the beach. 

So while all my friends were stressing out about where they would go to school and how, whether or not they would get in, I started planning what classes I would take. I knew it was only a matter of time before I got my acceptance letter. I was eager to learn about the historic and academic side of film, along with the production side. But I was also excited to plan my days at the beach. 

Lent, Teaching

Day 38: The danger of misinformation, especially with school safety

Alexandra Diane

Today was a shit show and a half. But the chaos started the day before. 

We were in code red before the first period was over. Only this time, it wasn’t a drill. My students were outstanding. We all went to the secure location, and everyone was silent. While we waited for a clear, all I could think about were the students out filming. Not even five minutes after the code started, the all-clear was called. 

When my students returned to my class, I asked them where they had gone. Some entered other teachers’ rooms, some entered the bathrooms, and others headed to grade-level offices. Two students told me they left the camera rolling when they ran off. I said that’s fine; maybe you captured something interesting. However, a few told me they were worried about the equipment. I reminded them I could always buy new cameras. I couldn’t purchase their life back if the unthinkable happened. 

Finally, the last three students returned to class. And boy, did they have a story. They were recording as the incident began. A male student had become hostile and was verbally threatening a teacher. The girls were packing up. They didn’t want him to break the camera. He was punching the doors and shouting at any and all authority that came near him. Before that could return to class, the code red started. They left the gear and went to a secure location. They could still hear the student yelling and threatening as the Administration detained the hostile student. Two of the three girls said they were concerned about his behavior, and my third said she wanted to stay and get footage because it would be a good news story. I joked and said, “Well, we know who the future newscaster will be. But in all seriousness, your safety is the number one priority.” 

We all went about our day, and aside from thinking about how well our students handled the situation, I gave little thought to it. 

This morning we had our monthly faculty meeting, and we found out the teacher didn’t mean to activate the code red. Although I think it was good, who knows if the Hostile student could have lashed out at an unexpected student walking in the halls? We learned that pressing our emergency badges three times, pausing, and then pressing them three times again counts as six times. And if they were pressed after that, it activates a code red. We all assumed that pushing it three times would alert the administration that they were needed in the room, and if we waited a moment or two in between that, it would just reactivate the administration call. Most of our teachers didn’t realize that even if there were moments between the three punches, it would activate a code red, which is what happened. 

When we arrived at school today, there was more police activity on campus than usual. Most of them chalked it up to the code red. That was until the principal told us the suspended student had posted a threat on social media. The principal wasn’t even aware of the danger until he arrived on campus. We have an extremely good system where parents and students can report social media threats or any threat. However, our local police force was on our campus faster than the reporting system this time. Somebody had notified them about the student making a threat to our school. Our principal had just found out this information not too soon before our meeting started. Our principal is amazing and very transparent with the teachers, the students, and their parents. He composed a message to inform us that there was a report and that the police were already handling the situation, which he sent out once our meeting was completed. However, that wasn’t soon enough.

Students were already making their way to campus in the morning. Those who travel by bus leave insanely early, and many parents drop off their students before school hours because they have to go to work. So while we were in the meeting, students were already on social media sharing the post that the student had threatened the school. And they panicked without knowing that the situation was being handled. They did not give us a chance to calm the storm before it took place. The rumor mill had already begun. 

This was probably the most dangerous part of the day. Teenagers gossiping. Students are not talking to adults but to each other, exaggerating and making the situation worse. Kids were already calling and texting their parents, asking to be picked up. Parents calling the school jammed the phone lines, limiting communication. 

But while there were kids that were worried and calling their parents, those who wanted to be sure the Administration saw every single post made. They wanted to ensure everyone was aware of the situation, and I was so proud of these things. They wanted to make sure that there was no possibility of anything wrong. Unfortunately, things became worse when rumors grew.

This was when I started getting emails from parents asking me what was happening. I told them everything was normal, and we were all fine. I asked where they heard things, and they said a teacher told their children the suspended student had returned to school. Which I knew was not true. I reassured them that everything was safe and that even though everything was safe, out of an abundance of caution, we had an excessive amount of police force on campus. Then some parents sent me screenshots of the local community input people were saying. Some parents didn’t even have children on our campus and were spreading lies. And then the thing that pissed me off the most happened. My former news station reported that we were in a code yellow. Code yellow is when teachers are still teaching but restrict the movement in the halls unless absolutely necessary. We were not in a code yellow. We were not in a code anything. It was a normal day being blown out of proportion by people spreading lies and rumors. This was ensuing chaos. One mother complained that it took an hour for her to pick up her child. Not only was there an excessive number of parents picking up their kids, but they must vet every single person who was picking up a student. The administration was not just going to allow anybody to come to pick up kids randomly. It always has to be checked, and there were parents complaining about that. 

Today was a fucking joke, and it wasn’t because of our administration. They were doing more than necessary to be open with all the parents. They did everything possible to ensure safety. And they were trying to keep the students on campus calm. Unfortunately, worried parents made the situation worse.

I fully understand the concern, but social media’s gossip mill made things awful. News stations reporting with false information made it even worse. Adults and students alike spreading lies and gossiping made things atrocious. Teachers were with the students all day. We were calming nerves dealing with those having panic attacks. This put us under a lot of stress and pressure to make sure all students were okay and safe. Not just physically but mentally as well. Some teachers taught while others, like myself, turned on a movie and tried to distract the students from thinking of anything negative.

Adults need to be smarter. They need to stop gossiping and spreading rumors, and inciting horrible comments about things they do not know what is going on. Some parents were saying how their students were telling them a different story than what the principal was saying and calling the principal a liar. Our principal is anything but a liar. The students’ safety is his number one priority, and today he took every precaution. Our administrative staff in the front office were dealing with hostile parents, who were making the situation worse than it needed to be. Parents need to remember these are middle schoolers. There is a total no chance that their precious little babies would exaggerate the situation. I heard them exaggerating the situation. There were rumors spreading that an administrator got into a fight with the suspended student and was in the hospital, and there were people that actually believed it. Which I found absolutely absurd, since the man was walking around campus unharmed and obviously not in a hospital.

I truly understand people being concerned and worried. But they need to be smart. They don’t need to make a situation worse. And that is all that happened today. Gossip, rumors, news stations sharing false information. All of this caused more chaos and is not helpful.

I can’t believe this is my second post in less than 40 days about the chaos in schools.

Lent, Teaching

Day 17: Controlled Chaos in the control room

Alexandra Diane

When I asked one of my students what I should write about today, she said, “write about us!” I told her that I had before. However, I didn’t think today would turn out to be such controlled chaos.

Today was a hot mess express. Actually, the whole week has been a shit show and a half. Students are losing their damn minds with the full moon. If you don’t think the moon controls the kids, you haven’t spent enough time around hundreds of students on campus. But today was probably the most hilarious of them all. Usually, my students run the newscast by themselves without any assistance. But since the computer that usually does graphics died, and the replacement needs to have my profile on it, they can no longer do their job adult free. Not that I don’t fully trust them not to change their grades, but I’m not giving them the opportunity. 

Today’s class that handled the newscast has nine very vocal females and one far less vocal male. We had a guest classmate come in and add some testosterone to the room. It didn’t help much. The girls are still in complete control of the chaos. We did a few run-throughs of the script before recording. This gives everyone in the control room a chance to get familiar with what graphics will be coming up, who is tossing to weather, and setting the audio levels. Well, today wasn’t our smoothest rehearsal. 

First, we had audio issues. For some reason, the student running the board thought she should start the show with the volume faders all the way up. The moment the anchors’ mics came on, it sounded like our speakers were blown. Everything was overmodulated. She started screaming, confused about why everything was so loud. I told her to look at her levels and bring them down. Instead of bringing them down, she kept yelling over the anchors. Finally, the line producer leaned over and dropped their audio to a manageable level. 

The technical director rolled on our first take with the audio crisis averted. It should have been our only take since everything was going smoothly. That was until the audio operator forgot to unmute the weather anchor. Everyone in the back started yelling at her because we were only a story and a half away from being done with the newscast. My students pride themselves on being able to record in one take. They do their best to record live to tape and try not to leave anything for me to edit. They also know that the moment they mess up something, the ball starts rolling, and so many other things start to mess up.

And that is precisely what happened. 

The anchors flubbed their lines a few times, and I threatened to fire them. They quickly switched roles, so the other was now reading the names from the basketball game. Things seemed to be going great until our audio person became distracted and forgot to mute everyone while the weather opening played. The recording started over, and anchor one sounded dead while anchor two sounded like he took speed. I told them they were both about to lose their jobs, and they promised they’d do better. 

The line producer called standby and began the countdown. Then all hell broke loose. The floor director was in her own world and forgot to count the anchors in. So we just had the boys staring at the screen while the lounge producer started shouting in the head seat. Anchor one lost his shit, and my director ran out, nearly jumping up and down. She told him, “now read the announcements with that energy,” and he did. We were almost done with a great take until my audio operator squealed so loudly and threw up her arms that my weather anchor thought she had done something wrong. Everything was lost in the moment. We tried to pick up the take from the weather opening, but it was lost. We had to start over. 

At this point, we had fifteen minutes left of our fifty-minute class. The new floor director counted in the on-air talent, and Anchor one sounded like he could pass for a zombie while anchor two, well, he could read the names, so we just had to roll with it. 

I think I was ready to give up on the day. Everyone was out of sorts and making careless mistakes. We didn’t have time to switch, and the two that usually were my go-to on-air talent decided that today they were protesting because “like we always do it.” 

We finally got a passable take. There were some graphic errors because the right arrow became stuck. That problem was the only one that could be fixed in post, so we kept it. 

I really can’t be too frustrated. The kids did great. Repeating the script, punching the show, and rolling with tech issues with a fair amount of emotional control. I worked long enough in the professional world to know that not many adults could keep their composure as my 12 & 13-year-olds did.