Friday, December 06, 2013

(THE NIGHT BEFORE) PISA DAY MEETS JINGLE BELLS…. or the doggerel ate my homework

East Coast Blogger Jersey Jazzman Posted |

Sunday, December 1, 2013

'Twas the Night Before PISA Day! 

'Twas the night before PISA Day, when all through the foundations
The wonks were all dreaming about Bill Gates's donations;

The rankings were crafted for each nation with care,
In hopes that more grants would come from billionaires;

The children were tested and stressed at their desks;
While visions of bubble sheets made them feel quite grotesque;

Suburban moms in their 'kerchiefs, and dads in their caps,
Hoped on test day their children's brains wouldn't collapse,

When out at the DOE there arose such a clatter,
I looked up from Klein's tablet to see what was the matter.

Away from the SmartBoard I flew like a flash,
Almost as fast as a PARCC test can crash!

The glow of my iPad on new-fallen snow,
Gave off heat like a John King Common Core show,

When what did I see coming 'round the corner,
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reformers,

With a six-foot-five driver looking for schools for flunkin',
I knew in a moment that it was Arne Duncan!

As excised as Jeb! Bush, those reformers, they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:

"Now, Geoffrey! now, Wendy! now Klein and Michelle Rhee!
On, Checker! on, Whitney! on, Eva and Petrilli!

To the top of the op-eds! with bad statistical tools!
Now bash away! bash away! bash away schools!"

And then, in a twinkling, after making some big bucks,
Then each little reformer cried: "America's schools suck!":

As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the TV cable Arne came in with a bound.

He was dressed all in sweats, from his head to his foot,
But his numbers were tarnished with statistical soot;

A bundle of data he had flung on his back,
And he readied his numbers for the attack.

His eyes—how they twinkled! his dimples, how merry!
He looked like he'd Tweeted with jolly Steve Perry!

Atwist of his head and a wink of his eye,

Soon gave me to know he'd be yelling "Shanghai!";

He spoke lots of words, but not many made sense,
(Karen Lewis is right: he can sound a bit dense...)

Then laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, from the podium he rose;

He sprang to his limo, to his team gave a whistle,
Off they went to go spread the reformy epistle.

But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight—
“Happy PISA Day to all, and our schools really bite!”


Rising /Sinking to the Challenge…

…West Coast/LA Westside white suburban housewife/blogger karenwolfepr said:

(If the Westside isn’t a suburb it certainly isn't the inner city)

(To the tune of Jingle Bells)
Ignoring what we know
to the top we race.
No child is left behind.
Rheeformies have their day.
Bells in schools still ring,
making children think
recess might come or art, oh, please
when things just really stink.

Oh! Finding fun, finding fun
in ac-count-a-bil-it-y.
Suburban moms make facebook friends
across our big country.
Ed's box o'wine, Jazzman's sound
Bad Ass Teachers too.
Oh what fun, Diane provides
an online Who is Who.
Common Core won't be a bore.
iPads are all for the best.
O'er Finland we will soar.
Shut up and take this test.

Randi still has her say.
Karen Lewis packs a punch.
Duncan dribbles, we all quibble.
Where the hell is UTLA?

Oh! Finding fun, finding fun
About our schools we care.
Facebook groups, e-blasts and blogs,
here's another post to share.

Valerie Strauss, Howard Blume
Editorial boards are scared
Oh, what fun it is to sing
in this rein of error.

2cents smf: I am assured that copyright protection isn’t extended to subjects of parody – so everything is fair game – even the works of Disney, L. Ron Hubbard or The Beatles!.

If anyone else has a contribution, bring it on!

Don’t make me the one to attempt “Variations of a Theme by Queen”. Will it be Bohemian Rhapsody …or We are the Champions?

Ever since I learned that the lyrics to The Gillian's Island Theme can be set to the melody of Stairway to Heaven I’ve been in total shock! 

That all the poems of Emily Dickenson go to “I’ve been working on the Railroad” is sacrilege; witches have been burnt for less!


* Franny: This will come as a shock, but “The Eyes of Texas are Upon You” and “Railroad” have the exact same melody!.

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