Yearly Teacher-Librarian Evaluation Form: Fill & Download for Free

No, However for all librarians, but especially for school librarians, no one knows what we do! One can easily tell that is the case by noting that our evaluation form is blank as no one knows what to look for. Basically I wrote down in September what I planned to do that year and wrote down in June what I had done. Later the district told the site administrators to use a teacher's evaluation form. That didn't work. We just ignored all of it but the last little blank area in which I wrote what I had always written.Administrators would come by to visit, walk around, see books and posters and students, smile, and go away. When one asked about this book or that I would take him into one of the storerooms, pull out my box of book reviews, and show him how I had decided to buy that particular book. Sometimes I would explain, again, how I bought books at different reading levels in the same topic. Sometimes I would try to walk administrators through the cataloging process. In every case their eyes woukd glaze over and they would beat a hasty retreat never to return again to that process.Some people still think that reviews, selection, cataloging, processing, shelfing, and displays all happen by themselves. They do see circulation happening and guidance, but otherwise they think that librarians simply read all day and look up periodically to say, "Sush."I don't see much difference with public librarians. The ones I talk to have the same feelings.Now I feel strongly that the libraries, themselves, are under-appreciated. I had a constant battle with administrators who saw my facility as an empty space to be used whenever and for whatever they wanted, ignoring the fact that it was a huge investment that was to be open for student use. Every time they ordered it closed for one of their activities, they were stealing taxpayer money which had been spent for a library for our students! It was a constant battle to keep them from using the library as a meeting place, an extra administrator's office, or, worst of all, as a dumping place for disruptive students who had been ejected from a classroom.Everytime I received a notice that the library would be closed, I sent it back saying that No, it wouldn't. Everytime I was ordered to close it to students, I refused, and told the administrator, no matter how high in the district, that I would be happy to meet with him next Thursday evening. They knew what I meant. Thursday evening was when the Board of Education met, and I was perfectly willing to argue this out in front of them.Everytime I received a student from the office instead of a classroom, and the student said that he wasn't permitted to leave the libray, I sent him back to the office. The office called to complain. I used my standard, " I am a teacher, not a prison guard," reply.I could leave the library. My student aides under the direction of my secretary/clerk/technician ( the district kept changing titles) could run it, but I fought hard for many years to maintain it as a library. By the end of my career, administrators gave up the fight and left me alone. They didn't make any changes until I left.Everytime you wonder what a librarian does and what is the putpose of a library just ask one of us. Think about the fact that it takes two years more college after a bachelor's degree to obtain an MLS to be allowed to apply to be a librarian.Now I began this response by typing, No, then telling you of all the things which should point to a yes. Here is why I wrote that No. The patrons. The people who come into the library to use it. It is the patrons we serve, not the administrators, or the social media critics, or even the general public. It is the people who walk through the doors. In my case, they were almost all students. I loved helping them, and they appreciated my help. They returned time after time, before school, at lunch, and after school. Some returned for help for years after they had left my school.I was not under-appreciated by my student-patrons. I bet that college and public and even private librarians feel the same way.

Someone once said, “every time you buy something, you cast a vote for the kind of world you want to live in.” I believe wholly in that. Whatever you buy, it reflects your values. Even if you buy uncaringly or randomly - it just reflects that aspect then, with regards to that object.The only problem with that is being able to interpret it correctly in somebody else, and reading that person by way of making that choice, because their cultural, demographic, and geographic background play a major role in that.In other words, an object you own may carry very different meaning and status implications, depending on who and where you are. It is therefore important to know what importance or meaning the person we are trying to evaluate gives their things. Otherwise, we’ll get it entirely wrong.Let’s take some of my stuff for example.My Lincoln:… and how it reflects on me through the eyes of… :a North American: “Grandpa grade, cheap old car. Must be owned by some conservative, ancient dude who listens to Vince Gill and likes his Bingo evenings in the community hall.”a European: “Weird yank tank type rig that must be a pain in the neck to maintain and park. Owned by some oddball gun ownership advocate who probably is involved in illegal stuff and has been in prison, or soon will be.”myself: My Walmart Rolls Royce. I own it because I can’t afford an actual Rolls Royce, and I think the Lincoln Town Car is a clever choice - sturdy, long lived, and surprisingly economical. So, for me, this car says that I like stately cars that won’t break the bank, and that I am proud of my international experience, and like to be perceived as exotic. It’s the car that expresses best who I am at this stage of my life by my own standards.My place:… and how it reflects on me through the eyes of… :a European or Asian: “Damn, some people are stinking rich. A house in Sweden! That must be the most expensive thing in the world someone can own, in a country where a litre of petrol costs the same as an airport sandwich.”a Swede: “A normal, older, little house. Perhaps owned by a retired school teacher or librarian.”myself: A refreshingly iconic looking little place I had the luck of being able to buy outright at the price of a used Ford Mustang. “The Swedish Dream” come true in a compact and affordable format.My Guampa and Bombilla:… and how it reflects on me through the eyes of… :someone from Argentina: “Duh, a normal drink, dude. Next, please.”my Swedish, French, British, and New Zealand colleagues who have been watching me slurp this for years with varying degrees of disgust and suspicion: “Some inexplicable perversion in need of therapy, and indicative of either a form of drug addiction, or histrionics.”myself: The taste of South America, and a never ending delight in the form of memories of sunny places I have been to and enjoyed many things in. A replay button for experiences in another world.I hope you see what I mean.

I’m June 30, 2018Just outside of Niagara Falls, Canadian sideSo my family had just flown from Newark to Toronto earlier that day and rented a car to drive to Niagara Falls.We stopped along the way to get lunch. A little backstory before I continue:At the time of this writing, I’m 14 years old. I had just graduated 8th grade when this took place. My 8th grade science teacher was diagnosed with leukemia in February (unbeknownst to me at the time), so we had substitutes almost every day since her diagnosis. She was also the Student Council advisor and one of the STEM Club advisors (I was part of both).She had informed me of her diagnosis in early April, before everyone was told in late May. She gave me her phone number because she was out a lot and that was an efficient way to contact her about anything Student Council (because I was Treasurer) or STEM Club related.She was in and out of the hospital; unfortunately, when we had our big STEM Club competition, she couldn’t make it (we came in second) and she couldn’t make the Student Council statewide award ceremony. We were texting and calling her about it though.What I’m going to say next is a timeline of events, so I’m going to put it like that.6/29: my mom was texting my middle school librarian, who was at my teacher’s bedside in the hospital. My mom told me that they were “making her comfortable” (I didn’t know what that meant) and that I should text her my best wishes. So I did.(In case you can’t tell, her husband answered).I thought that she was sleeping and that she was just recuperating from an operation (I was in the dark about everything, except for my mom telling me to text her). But my mom and librarian texted all night, about her condition amongst other things.6/30 at the restaurant:So we had just completed a 2 hour drive from Toronto and stopped to eat pizza. My cellular service wasn’t working in Canada, even though my parents’ were. As soon as I connected to their WiFi, I got a call from my friend and he told me that his brother’s friend (complicated I know) heard a rumor that my teacher had passed away.I was just scared. So I texted undoubtedly her best friend - the other science teacher. (Just an FYI - they gave me their phone numbers because of all the events we are all involved in). His text back to me:I was so scared and so sad. I just couldn’t function. The pizza came and I didn’t eat anything. I excused myself and went to the bathroom - I waited until everyone was gone and just cried. My dad came in and through my sniffles, I said that I was fine.Thing is, her passing away was something I thought of, but my mom telling me that she’s fine and me thinking of how many times that’s happened to her (being in the hospital) made me think of her just coming back.I had just seen her at the 8th grade graduation dance on 6/19. She had just come out of the hospital, and looked a bit frail. However, she was adamant about coming and telling me about how well I did on stage (I gave a little speech). She then told me that she’d be undergoing an operation and then, if all went well, she’s be back in October.My teacher gave so much to our school. She taught in the district from 1990 until 2018. This is how committed she was: she pulled all-nighters for the Student Council (once we were unable to finish an online form when getting evaluated; she stayed up until 3 AM to finish it). She texted me once at 2 AM saying that she would look into a problem I had texted her about the night before at 10 PM (I honestly didn’t expect a reply until the morning, but she was working on more things for the Student Council). She was balancing out her busy school and home life (she had a grandson, her daughter, husband and more family at home each day). I thought she’d be able to pull it through.I have one regret - I couldn’t attend her celebration of life because it was my first day of a Summer program at UMD. But I knew she would’ve wanted me to start my first day off with a bang - she was so excited for me when I asked her to be my letter of recommendation for it.But I believe that she is looking down and happy to know that she made us all better people. My 8th grade science teacher, who I first met at the end of 7th grade, is by far my favorite teacher that I have ever had.Sorry for the long post - I’ve had this bottled up for some 5+ months now. Even though this wasn’t a phone call, it was a phone call that generated the worst text of my life.TLDR: my science teacher, who I loved so much, passed away. I learned after a phone call from my friend and a text from the other science teacher.