May 28, 2003
>The Changes Unwelcome, a Model Teacher Moves On
>By MICHAEL WINERIP
>
>
>ORLANDO, Fla.
>
>MS. MacLEISH! Ms. MacLeish!" The door to Room 7 was still locked,
>but the kindergartners could not wait for the school day to begin.
>They were jumping up and down in the hallway, trying to peek through
>the high window and get Ms. MacLeish to let them in early.
>
>From inside Room 7, Laurin MacLeish could see the tops of blond
>ponytails and brown cornrows bouncing in and out of view. She could
>hear the jiggling of the locked doorknob. At 8:25 precisely, with
>the first bell, she opened up.
>
>"Ms. MacLeish, I found a roly-poly!" shouted Victoria Sibons.
>
>"Ms. MacLeish, I caught a caterpillar!" yelled Marcus Maxwell.
>
>"Ms. MacLeish, Marcus didn't catch that caterpillar!" said Ashley
>Ann Duncan. "This girl gave it to Marcus." Ms. MacLeish did not
>care; she told Mighty Marcus Maxwell that she had never seen a more
>perfect caterpillar, and, along with the roly-poly, it went right
>into the Room 7 terrarium.
>
>"Precious darlings, we have a day that's bigger than big," said Ms.
>MacLeish. "I need attentive listeners." She explained that she had
>just gotten back the annual kindergarten highlights video she
>compiles each year. "Guess what I did when I saw it for the first
>time last night?"
>
>"You cried!" they all shouted.
>
>"Oh, yes," said Ms. MacLeish. "And what color were my tears, boys
>and girls? Pink or blue?"
>
>"Pink!" (Happy tears.)
>
>"Of course," said Ms. MacLeish. "To see how much you've grown and
>how we've come all the way to the merry month of May." Ms. MacLeish
>has been teaching kindergarten 32 years, and still this growing-up
>business never ceases to amaze her. When they start in August, their
>self-portraits have arms coming out of their ears, and by May they
>have necks, bellies, even lips.
>
>Through it all, no one has a better time than Ms. MacLeish. In the
>video highlights, the person with the biggest smile at the field
>trip to the zoo, at the Halloween party ("Look at Ms. MacLeish!
>She's a butterfly!"), at the 100th-day-of-school celebration, is Ms.
>MacLeish.
>
>When Lizzy Volcey raced in late, meaning everyone was now present,
>Ms. MacLeish was the first to break into a chorus of "Everyone Is
>Here Today" ("Let's give a hip hip hooray!").
>
>Being in Ms. MacLeish's class is like living in a Broadway musical
>where people walking down the street routinely burst into song.
>Ethel Merman would have seemed normal in Room 7. If someone wears
>new shoes, they sing the New Shoe song. "Would you rather read this
>or sing it?" Ms. MacLeish asked, pointing to the board, and — with
>Ms. MacLeish leading on the autoharp — the children burst out
>singing "K Is for Kindergarten Hip Hip Hooray."
>
>"You are the b-e-s-t — kiss your brains for being so smart," said
>Ms. MacLeish, whose great gift is creating so much fun that children
>forget they are learning. At one point, Ashley Ann looked up and
>complained, "It's going by way too fast." Indeed, Ms. MacLeish, of
>Lake Silver Elementary, has such magic that in 1998 she was named
>Orange County teacher of the year.
>
>And so it is easy to imagine all the broken hearts this spring when
>Ms. MacLeish, 53, sent a letter home saying this would be her last
>year teaching kindergarten. It was no ordinary goodbye letter. Ms.
>MacLeish was m-a-d. Her tears were not pink. She fears that the
>kindergarten world she knows and has raised to a fine art is being
>destroyed. "A single high-stakes test score is now measuring
>Florida's children, leaving little time to devote to their character
>or potential or talents or depth of knowledge," she wrote.
>"Kindergarten teachers throughout the state have replaced valued
>learning centers (home center, art center, blocks, dramatic play)
>with paper and pencil tasks, dittos, coloring sheets, scripted
>lessons, workbook pages."
>
>The breaking point for Ms. MacLeish was an article in the paper
>praising a kindergarten teacher who had eliminated her play centers
>and was doing reading drills, all part of a push to help her school
>get a higher grade on the annual state report card.
>
>It's not that Ms. MacLeish is anti-academic. Please. Her room is
>crammed with books. Every morning the children print their first and
>last names on the attendance sheet. Sundays, Ms. MacLeish visits
>bookstores, and her room features baskets of books by her favorite
>authors. (The Robert Munsch basket includes a photo of the author
>meeting Ms. MacLeish, who is, of course, beaming.)
>
>Ms. MacLeish knows she's been lucky to have a principal, Stephen
>Leggett, who hates the state testing as much as she does and has
>done his best to insulate his teachers. But she's never seen so much
>state and federal intrusion into the classroom and can watch the
>testing moving her way. The fourth-grade test used to be the big
>deal for Florida school report cards. Now it is the third-grade
>test, used to determine retention. This year, for the first time,
>Ms. MacLeish had to spend two days giving state tests to
>kindergartners to establish base-line scores. "The wolf is at the
>door," she said. "I must get out before it gets me."
>
>After 32 years, this single woman, who may be the best kindergarten
>teacher in Florida, makes $51,000. She is not retiring. Instead,
>she'll be a resource support teacher. This way, she said, she'll
>have children for 90 minutes at most and won't feel so responsible
>for their future.
>
>The last week of school, Ms. MacLeish was feted at every turn.
>Tuesday, at the class play, her kindergartners each handed her a
>rose with baby's breath, and Orlando's mayor, Buddy Dyer, proclaimed
>Laurin MacLeish Day. (His son Drew was in Ms. MacLeish's class two
>years ago.)
>
>Friday the kindergartners got to visit Ms. MacLeish's house, a
>stunning moment for those who had assumed she lived in Room 7. They
>walked the half-mile from the school. When a dog barked, they sang.
>("I know a dog. His name is Wags.") When they saw a house with an
>American flag, they stopped to recite the pledge. At Ms. MacLeish's,
>they played with her toys.
>
>It was 6 p.m. on the last day by the time she turned off the light
>in Room 7. What a run, what a week, a thousand tears, pink and blue.
>She'd miss them, every one — she always did — but she was relieved
>too. To the end, Ms. MacLeish gave her all. (Never let her standards
>fall.)