This is a post I wrote at my forum summarizing the craziness that began on 11/17 and ended (I thought at the time) on 12/11/2008. Alas, there was more to come. I'm including it because one thing that doesn't come through in the grievance was how extraordinarily stressful things were at the end of the fall quarter. It was the busiest quarter. We had several extensive assignments: Heterogeneous Classrooms project, Extended Lesson Plan, and a huge Adolescent Case Study. They were all due in late November/early December. I knew, of course, that if I wasn't able to complete an assignment it would be added to the list of problems--even though many students often were late on assignments (which I rarely was).

Note: While I omitted all names here, I used pseudonyms when I put it online.

Things that have happened at Stanford, or Why I'm Having Trouble Getting in the Christmas Spirit:

1. 11/17: I am called into a meeting with the program director. This meeting has been called because my Classroom Management Plan was rejected six weeks earlier and the instructor requested that I meet with the program director. I ask why I am required to meet with the program director when some 30% of the class has to resubmit a rejected CMP, but am given no clear answer. The meeting is delayed because of program director's health problems.

   In the meeting, I am asked why, given my opinions expressed in the CMP, I would spend the time and money going to the program. I am further told that my views as expressed violate the California Teaching Standards (this is nonsense, really, but no matter). I am told that my views expressed in this document are so bad, so terrible, that the program director can't see how I could possibly be getting good assessments. I am told that my supervisor, who is the Stanford teacher who must sign off on my candidacy is "at a loss" for how to deal with me. ( I am extremely concerned about this because my supervisor hasn't in any way complained about me, although he rejected two "reflections", a deweyism about writing about teaching after an observation.) I am told that my presence in the program creates problems; if a principal hires me and is shocked that I am not adhering to Stanford values, then they will hold the program responsible for their disappointment. (aka, I'm bad for the brand.) And I am told in passing that some of my classmates complain about me, but that it's true that many of my classmates like me and it is agreed that I am almost certainly one of the best known of all the cohort. I agree, btw, to redo my CMP--which I had already said in writing on three occasions six weeks earlier, but whatever.

   I leave the meeting quite convinced that I was just told that I should leave Stanford at the quarter. I say as much to my math classmates that evening, and tell [name omitted], my supervisor partner, about the news. She is equally surprised to hear of my supervisor's apparently negative opinion.

2. 11/18: I get a note from the classroom management instructor, making it clear that my CMP was rejected entirely for its views, not for any missing elements.
3. 11/19: At our weekly meeting with the supervisor, he summarily announces that he is switching my secondary class from Algebra Support to Algebra II/Trig. I "work" three classes, which is one more than most students: Algebra II/Trig primary, Algebra Support secondary, and an identical Algebra II/Trig class. In fact, I generally consider the two AII/Trig classes to be my joint primary, and the Algebra Support my secondary. My supervisor has never mentioned this issue before and in order to understand why he is doing this, it's necessary to segue into a thing called "observations".

   Stanford wants all their teacher candidates to "observe" other teachers and encourage us to do it often. We are supposed to spend 20 hours at school: one primary, one secondary, one prep period, and then the extra time they encourage (but don't require) observations. The supervisor has, on occasion, asked if I've done any observations, as [supervisory partner] loves observing and goes all over the place. I have always said that I'd rather spend my time working the second Algebra II/Trig class than do regular observations and point out that I do observations for school work. I would also ask if there was a minimum of observations to be done, and he would always say no. It is very important to understand that no one--not me, not [supervisory partner]--thought of these queries as a rebuke or an order.

   Nonetheless, when the supervisor says he is switching my secondary to the second Algebra II/Trig class, it is instantly clear to me (and to [supervisory partner]) that he is doing this as penalty for the fact that I said I'd rather just do the minimum number of observations. He says as much, saying that he expects me to not attend the Algebra Support class, but rather attend many observations. His evident intent is to insist that I do more observations during that time and in fact he hints that he will require it. I am instantly quite angry, something that really only makes sense if a) I'm an idiot or b) he has genuinely never made it an issue before and just came up with this out of the blue. You make the call.

   I say that I don't want my secondary switched. My supervisor says he doesn't care, that I have no say. I remind him that I've asked every time the subject of observations comes up (not in any mandated sense) how many I need to do for a minimum, and that I will happily do whatever he expects me to do--but that I will continue to work the Algebra Support class. I also remind him that I have done a number of observations, as I've told him before, and he says that those observations "don't count", because they were assignments from other classes.

   He dismisses [supervisory partner] and tells me that I have been a monumental pain in supervisory, that I never take instruction, that he will make absolutely sure that I become a better teacher in spite of myself, and that I had better do what he said. He is not pleasant at all.

   I am pretty copacetic about what the program manager is doing, but I am still not capable of being dispassionate about the weird events with my supervisor--the ones I'm describing and the ones that follow. I liked the guy. I enjoyed working with him. I valued his input. I found our conversations fascinating. Supervisory was terrific, from my point of view. [supervisory partner], again, concurs with this, and both she and my CT (cooperating teacher) say that my supervisor's behavior with me after 11/19 is markedly different from anything that came before.

   In this conversation, my supervisor makes it patently clear that I am going to have trouble passing my assessments in the "professionalism" category (notice how this comes up again and again since 11/17? it was never mentioned before that point in any significant way), due entirely to my late reflections and blatant refusal to do observations. I ask him what he means about late reflections, and he says they are required 2 days after the observation. I ask if he has ever mentioned this before, and he says that he mentioned it once in passing. I asked if he said it was required, and he said no. I asked if he recalled that [supervisory partner's] first reflection was over 4 weeks late, and that I'd asked him several times for help on reflections. No answer.

   Around this time the head of the Clinical Practice shows up at the meeting telling me that I am far too much trouble, that I need to listen and stop arguing. The head of CP is also known as the person who misdirected a letter to me last April (the "OMG! Did you tell the lawyer?" letter). I ask her, as I've asked the supervisor, what the minimum number of observations are, given the apparent obsession with observations. She says that there is no minimum, that they expect candidates to do them willingly and happily, that my failure to want to do that is the problem. I ask again when anyone has expressed the requirement for observations, and she says that I am a pain to deal with, but that no one wants to see me fail. I laugh.

   I am really devastated by this meeting. The program director was, it seemed obvious, planning to flunk me out in case I didn't quit. I have NOTHING in email telling me there is any problem. I can't believe that they find this reasonable, but they clearly do.

   On the drive home, I suddenly remember that the classmate I go to school with teaches four classes. I call her up and ask if she goes regularly to observations. No, she said. She did a couple early on and no more. No one has ever asked her about it. I schedule a time to go to her class (at a different school) and observe.

   I write up my notes and email the ombudsman asking to meet with him.

4. 11/20: When I get to my placement the next morning, my CT tells me that the supervisor sent him an email, strongly hinting that he not allow me to teach the Algebra Support class. (He refuses to do so, and in fact emails back telling my supervisor that he thinks I'm a capable teacher and plans on rating me highly, a communication that apparently foils some plans at Stanford.) He also tells me to immediately plan and run both classes tomorrow (which I usually don't do) so that he can include that on my assessment and make sure that his assessment has all positives and no major "no evidence" ratings.
5. 11/21: I do a major heterogeneous classroom assignment with a fellow student ([name omitted] all round nice guy who listened to me patiently while I obsessed about all this. I think I function as his real-life soap opera.) I also run both classes as planned from the day before--nothing big, I've done it before, but it was nice to have it documented.
6. 11/21-22: Meanwhile, [supervisory partner] was completely unnerved by the sudden switch in the supervisor and also worried about the undocumented observation requirements. She does a lot of research and discovers that there is a document, which either the supervisor and the CP head didn't know about or deliberately didn't tell me about. She emails me the document, called an Integration or Induction plan, which makes it clear first of all that the observations I've done do "count", and second that I only have about 4 more to do to complete the list. I think kind thoughts of [supervisory partner].

   So to recap up to this point: I am warned that my views make it impossible to believe that I can qualify to be a teacher. I am then told by my supervisor that I am a complete failure because of my poor reflections and failure to do observations. I have already established that no other student is being held to this standard.

7. I spend the weekend writing up the first draft of an Adolescent Case Study, a 40-50 page paper.
8. 11/24: I meet with the ombudsman, who tells me not to worry. I try to believe him.

   I get home and find a formal letter from the program director, telling me that she and other instructors have "concerns that I am unsuited for the practice of teaching" because I am late to class, turn in assignments late, and behave inappropriately with classmates and instructors, including my supervisor during the meeting of 11/19. I have to meet with her and Dean Callan (the guy who freaked out at my blog and demanded I be reprimanded for mentioning that I have students) and discuss the concerns on 12/5. Notice that these "concerns" have absolutely nothing to do with the events of the past week. Notice also that the program director, in our meeting of a week ago, made absolutely no mention of my supposed lateness to class, my late assignments (which I realize, accurately, involves reflections only), my teachers' concerns about me, and only mentioned in passing my fellow classmates. I email FIRE with the notes I have been keeping.

9. 11/25: I attend an observation at another high school. I also realize, through inadvertent comments by my CT, that my supervisor has met with him privately about me, in addition to emailing him about me.
10. 11/26: I finish up the observations on the required list, as well as read up on the "Guidelines", the procedures for declaring a candidate unsuitable. I have not yet responded to the formal letter, as I fully intend at this time not to go to the meeting. I want to try and head off the meeting with a visit to the grievance adviser, because I do not want to go on probation, which seems to me very a very likely outcome.
11. Over Thanksgiving, I write up a lot of information and worry.
12. 12/1: I get a note from the program director asking me for a response to her letter. The ombudsman is of little help; he agrees that this all looks very bad. He thinks it's a bad idea not to go to the meeting, though, because the risks of not attending are worse than the risks of attending. FIRE is torn; they see both sides.

    That night, I get the single most valuable piece of advice I get throughout the entire affair from the parent of one of my students, who is also an instructor at Stanford (the med school). He says I must go to the meeting, and that I must treat it like a deposition. I'm tardy? Okay, do they keep logs? No? Really? Do they have any documentation demonstrating that my purported tardiness is worse than other students, bad enough to be considered "unsuited for the practice of teaching"? How about my assignments? And about those classmates, could you please give me the details--if not the names, then the specifics of the complaints? And how many? Uh huh--and were these all emailed to me before now? No? Ah.

    I have a plan. I return and email the program director, telling her I can't meet at the scheduled time, but can meet two hours earlier. She agrees.

13. 12/2: I spend all night--literally, all night--documenting every bit of work I have done that aligns with the assessments, which are the next day. I print out proof. I review the California standards to see what professionalism is and what it means. I have tons of stuff that my supervisor knows about and has seen, so I write all of it up. I'm pretty sure he's going to give me adequate assessments on the other five strands and nail me on "professionalism", but I do all the strands just to be safe.
14. 12/3: In practicum, the class before supervisory, the program director suddenly tells us that the majority of our grade will be based not on our entire assessment, but only one strand: the professionalism strand. About 20 fellow students, well aware of my troubles, turn and wave at me. I wave back. "Yes, I mentioned in class that the entire component of the grade would be the professionalism strand, on 12/3."

    The program director also says, suddenly, that she will be going on sabbatical next quarter. I look up while everyone else is gasping in shock, and [heterogeneous partner] sees my face and laughs. Early Christmas.

    Everyone goes off to their assessments. [Supervisory partner] and I are doing them individually, while everyone else is doing them in groups. (Gosh, I wonder why?) [Supervisory partner] goes first. She comes back in and checks with me, telling me that her marks were fine. I go into the room, and the DCP is sitting there with the supervisor. I stop dead, and tell her I'd just as soon have the assessment by myself. She leaves, resignedly, but listens outside the door with the program director until I notice the supervisor's eyes flicker to the door one too many times. I get up and shut the door; later, the CP head uses her key to force her way in anyway.

    As I said, I remain really upset by this whole aspect of things, so I wasn't calm. As I predicted, I got decent reviews except in professionalism, where I got straight "no evidences" (0, lowest score) in an area where everyone else will get 2s, and 3s (highest score). I presented my evidence and asked him to review the evidence--not now, not right away, but just review it. He makes no answer directly, but looks through the information. He is, oddly, very angry that I have done observations and remains bizarrely convinced that I refused to do observations (something that [supervisory partner] confirmed is not true, that I immediately asked how many I should do). When I ask him to at least review my observation log, and point out the integration plan, he says he's never heard of an integration plan. I ask him to please review my observation log at least--not now, just at some point--and he sneers and says it's just a piece of paper. I look at him in shock and yes, he's calling me a liar. He says loudly and distinctly "YOU LIE". I laughed bitterly, and picked up my notebook and logged this, saying, "look, it's best we shut down this meeting. All I want to ask" and he interrupted me "I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU WANT". About now the head of the CP comes in and is very upset at me for being so resistant. She is unmoved by the news that my supervisor called me a liar (as is everyone else at Stanford).

    I go home and log (far too emotionally) the events, and send the program director a writeup as well, because the last event ended up being evidence of my being unsuited for the practice of teaching, so I wanted it on record that he'd said I lied and that neither he nor the CP head saw anything wrong with that.

15. 12/4: I get to my placement and my supervisor is there. I am devastated; haven't been able to stop crying for more than a few minutes since last night. My supervisor considerately repeats his charge that I lied again. My CT is pretty appalled by the charge and the entire conversation. I'm a wreck. My supervisor notices, I think, that my CT is shocked by his statement that I lie, and so, after 15 minutes, grudgingly says that perhaps saying that I lied wasn't the most appropriate term to use and so apologizes. There's an earthquake drill so the meeting ends.
16. 12/5: First thing in the morning, I get a note from the dean saying he can't make the meeting and they will reschedule. I am reprieved. I would have had a bad time if I'd had to go to the meeting that day.
17. 12/6: I go to a math teacher's conference in Monterey and talk to a couple other students. Coupled with my conversations over the past weeks with [supervisory partner], [heterogeneous partner], and [another STEPPie], I am realizing that it is time to tell the other students what is going on. I am starting to get a vague sense of the outlines of the "plan" to get rid of me (assuming it exists). The "concern about suitability for the practice of teaching" is expressly leaving out my supervisor issue, save for my reaction the first night. That will be exhibit A. Then my supervisor's assessment will be exhibit B. I realize that the best thing to do is get hard evidence about the weird standards my supervisor is using, and the best way to do that is tell fellow students only about the supervisor issue and ask simple questions.
18. 12/7: I talk with [Adam Kissel], who tells me to chill. I promise to chill, but make it clear that the whole supervisor thing is this massive psychic shock that is hard to get through. I liked this guy, and trusted him. He never said that anything was wrong. And now he speaks to me like I'm dirt. But I promise to be less emotional. [Adam] blesses my plan of attack: I'm going to let my fellow students know about the problem with the supervisor and ask five specific questions: have they done observations of other teachers, do they do reflections with 24 hour turnaround, do they know what the integration plan is, were they aware before the program director mentioned it that professionalism was going to be the major component of our grade and did their supervisor give them straight "no evs" in any strand. So I write the letter and send it out. I meet with [heterogeneous partner] to write up our heterogenous classroom experience, which takes us about six hours. That evening alone, I get 10 responses and it's quite clear that a) many students have done far fewer observations, b) lots of students aren't turning in reflections and c) I have by far the lowest assessments of any student in STEP in professionalism. The majority of responses also mention that they had no idea why the program director mentioned "professionalism" and why it was suddenly such a big component of the grade. (BTW, the majority of the responses are very supportive.)
19. 12/8: I write a letter to two head supervisors and copy my ex-C&I instructor, indicating that I have grave concerns about my dealings with my supervisor and that I'd really appreciate some advice about how to proceed. I get no response from anyone except my instructor, who is very nice. The math head supervisor has not acknowledged my existence since this letter.
20. 12/10: The big day, the day of the meeting. I have to go to supervisory for 30 minutes and spend time with my supervisor before the meeting. Oh, joy.

    In the meeting, the dean first asks about my blog, which they forced me to close down in September. Someone (probably from my forum) "anonymously" alerted them to the fact that I'd brought it back up. I said yes, I had, with a different name, no mention of Stanford, password protected, and that I'd told the program director as much. He instantly asked if he could see the blog. I said yes, then qualified that yes by saying I would check with my advisers.

    As to the meeting itself, I have a letter I'll post somewhere about it. It went "well", in that they are well aware that I think their case is unimaginably weak and that I will not see either of them again without a lawyer. It went "well" in that I wasn't put on probation, which was my concern--once you're on probation, it doesn't matter whether your reasons for being there are bullshit.

    Oh, yeah: I get home and email my redone CMP.

21. 12/11: I write a letter to my classmates telling them of the meeting and what happened.
22. 12/15: I turn in the final of my Adolescent Case Study.
23. 12/16: I go to a class Christmas party reluctantly (because of events and because they are all no more than two years older than my son), but I have a good time and people are quite nice to me.
24. 12/22: I checked my grades today, and I got a B in practicum, which is almost certainly lower than anyone else got--the median GPA in the class is 4.0. (Oh, and Classroom Management? The one I redid the plan for? A-. Big nod and thanks to [hetergeneous partner], who gave me his CMP to review and allowed me to figure out what I could and couldn't write. I nonetheless managed to disagree with him on every element, bless his idealistic heart.).

    I could care less what my grades are, but I am probably going to do some research because I will have this same problem at my next assessments--remember, my supervisor is the guy who blesses or blitzes my application for teaching. So I have to develop a plan on how to ask about this. There are, obviously, no standards for assessments, and that normally this is no big deal because everyone gets an A. But I need to be sure I can move forward and not worry about my assessments, and my supervisor has made it blatantly clear that I can't. The program director is on sabbatical, so I don't have to worry about this for 3 months. I don't know what I'm going to do about the supervisor.

    Note: A week after writing this, I got this letter from Eamonn Callan and Rachel Lotan and decided I had to file a grievance. So this was a temporary respite.