During the decade or so in which Mayor Michael Bloomberg totally controlled the public schools of New York City, he relied on test scores as the measure of students, teachers, principals, and schools. His was a managerial mindset devoid of any philosophy of education or of any concern for the lives of individuals or communities. Collateral damage was unimportant, and many people fell under his wheels. His primary strategy was to close schools with low scores and open new schools. He believed in small schools, even though few of these schools had the facilities or staff for English language learners, students with disabilities, or advanced classes in math or science or anything else. After he had been in office for a number of years, he was closing some of the new schools. The central office could literally murder a school by directing large numbers of low-scoring students to it, which was a death sentence. As schools began to die (and he had a particular hatred for large schools), good students moved out and the death cycle was accelerated as the stats looked worse and worse.

What happened to the teachers in the schools marked for closure? Some got out as fast as they could, others stayed in their post, either because they were devoted to the school and hoped it would be saved if they tried harder or because they felt committed to the students. When the school at last was closed, many tenured teachers were set adrift. They could apply to other schools but because they were experienced, they were expensive and many principals preferred to have two new teachers than one veteran. So the teachers without a school were placed in what was called the Absent Teacher Reserve (ATR), where they stayed on salary but floated through the system as substitutes or short-timers. The press regularly ridiculed them as incompetents, although most had lost their job through no fault of their own, and some or many were expert teachers.

In this post, Lynne Winderbaum tells the story of the ATRs. She is a retired ESL teacher.

What a difference one election makes! For a dozen years, New York City had a Department of Education and a Mayor who viewed teachers with disdain. At best, they were checkers on a checkerboard controlled from “downtown,” doing the bidding of business-school graduates or TFA wonders who had little regard for veterans. Now, with a new mayor and a chancellor who is an experienced educator, the tone has changed. Tone matters. Respect matters. Words matter. Here is a message from Chancellor Carmen Farina to every teacher and principal in New York City.

 
Chancellor’s Memo

This week’s Chancellor’s Memo is a message for your teachers; it was sent via email to all principals and teachers on May 6.
Dear Colleagues,
Few of us remember the teachers who made us spend hours memorizing and spouting back facts. But none of us forget the ones who, with a gentle nudge or a kind word, convinced us that we could achieve endless opportunity. Sister Leonard, my English language arts teacher, was one of the memorable ones.
As a sophomore in high school, I decided to become a teacher. But unbeknownst to me, I was on a non-academic track, taking typing and stenography instead of math and other credit-bearing courses like many classmates. My advisor had apparently decided that a daughter of Spanish immigrants lacked the aptitude and wherewithal to attend college. Sister Leonard made my cause her personal mission. With her support, I caught up on all the math classes I’d missed, took the Spanish Regents exam—and became the first person in my family to go to college.
One great teacher can transform a life.

On this Teacher Appreciation Day, I want to recognize you—the City’s 75,000 public school teachers—for the countless lives you transform. Thank you for showing up every day, bringing joy to our classrooms, and working tirelessly to provide all of our students with a first-rate education.
I know this isn’t an easy job. As a New York City public school teacher for 22 years, I have walked thousands of miles in your shoes. As Chancellor, it is now my privilege to walk alongside you. My focus will always be on the critical work you do in the classroom.
As we embark on this journey together, I encourage you to think about teaching as a craft and a profession. Whether you are beginning your career in the classroom or are a veteran in our schools, our 1.1 million students rely on you. We want to help you cultivate your passion, achieve excellence, and take your skills to levels you never dreamed possible.
Thanks to our proposed contract with the teachers union, we will be able to deliver unparalleled professional learning: teachers will have a 75- to 80-minute block of time every week to share successful practices. You will have more time for parent engagement; you can even schedule appointments. In addition, the new contract offers excellent educators formal opportunities to hone their classroom practices, develop their leadership skills, and collaborate with and support other educators to improve student achievement. These are monumental changes that will help return dignity and respect to the profession. Going forward, we will give you more tools you need to succeed, including Town Halls just for teachers, and unprecedented on-the-ground support.
In honor of the hard work you do for our school children, I ask you to take some time today to remember a student whose life you have changed: the student who, like me, became the first person in her family to graduate from college; the student who has a career because you cared enough to see the potential others missed. These are the reasons we teach.
Thank you for making a difference in our children’s lives.
Warmly,
Carmen Fariña
Chancellor