Teachers in high-poverty school districts like Rachael provide, at their own expense, a lot of pretty basic supplies for their students. They do this with the help of back-to-school loss-leader sales at big-box office supply stores. Staples lets them buy twenty-five boxes of crayons for a penny each, and in return the teachers give Staples their undying gratitude and devotion. But Staples, at least in the Northwest where Rachael live, has stopped easing purchase limits for teachers. Teachers are now limited to two of each loss-leader item instead of as many as twenty-five. And while she understands why the company couldn’t continue this incredible generosity, it makes her sad. [More]
Do you teach at Central Falls High? Not for long. You’ve all been fired. The school is one of the lowest performing in the state and apparently the teachers couldn’t come to an agreement about how much they should be paid to do something about it. [More]
Time Warner wants reader Nancy, a 60-year-old English teacher, to pay $1,400 for ordering porn—including 17 flicks supposedly viewed on a single day. Nancy didn’t order the porn, and has no clue how the charges were associated with her cable box, but one useless Time Warner representative suggested: “maybe your dog ordered them.”
Now that Ohio has made personal finance basics a mandatory requirement to graduate from high school, people are starting to look at the problem of who teaches it and what it consists of (just look at the comment threads in the two related posts below to see the wide spectrum of opinions and personal experience anecdotes). A new Ohio State University study has found that the current level of teaching is all over the place—and the people teaching it have widely varying levels of knowledge about the subject matter.
“It’s part of our journalistic mission to get people talking on campuses,” says Vivian Schiller, senior vice president and general manager at NYTimes.com. “We wanted to open that up so that college students and professors can have a dialogue.”
It’s now part of our journalistic mission to pretend we’re still in college. —MEGHANN MARCO