"Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?" (Mary Oliver)

I am an American teacher.

As we all are trying to sort out the horror of the murders of innocent children and adults, a horror we will never fully understand, there is one area I need to sort through myself. I am afraid of this, and don’t want to face it.

I may be a coward.

Every teacher would say that he or she would die for their students if need be, that they could not live with the guilt if they could have saved a life and didn’t. I think this is true for all humans, not just teachers. And yes, I would like to believe that this is true for me, too. If someone was trying to harm my students, I have a sacred, unwritten honor to protect them at all costs, even at a cost to my own children. But there is a shaky side to this feeling, a sickening, quaking view, that I don’t want anyone, ever, to be put in this position in the first place, especially teachers. Or me. I don’t want to die a hero: I don’t want to die, period, as a result of my profession. I don’t want anyone to, ever. Hear the fear?

This is the conversation that prompted this post. Thank you to the teachers and Look At My Happy Rainbow for sharing their thoughts. http://lookatmyhappyrainbow.com

One thing I teach my students is that there are many paths to personal success and happiness. Some choose to be police officers, or emergency technicians, doctors, nurses, etc. Some choose a military career. Many of these involve life and death decisions, and in the case of fire, police, and other first-responder personnel, sometimes the ultimate sacrifice of lives. These professions do everything in their protocols and power to see that this doesn’t happen, to prevent this, and when it does happen, the magnitude and loss is horrific. Those professions are directly involved with the ‘bad guys,’ and they are trained to do so. And even with all that training, their hearts are broken, the psychological effects can be everlasting, and sometimes they are broken. They may have gone into this line of work with their eyes as open as they could, but nothing prepares any of us for the realities that come with any grand and large hope: parenting, careers, marriage, or love. We learn as we go.

But I want to look at this from the teacher’s perspective. And make no mistake: there are truly heroes, those who made the ultimate sacrifice, and it completely, utterly shatters my heart. Stories such as Victoria Soto’s will never be forgotten, and nor should they. I can’t untangle or analyze the monster’s motives; I can only honor and pray for those whose lives were taken, and those left behind.

What I wish, though, is that we take this and turn it into action. Not just prayers, not just wishes. But honest conversations, hard conversations.

When I got the news yesterday from an acquaintance, (who didn’t know that I am teacher) he was suggesting all teachers should be trained with guns and carry them. I would suggest that his remarks, while ludicrous, are also dangerous and extremely misguided, but I also believe he is not alone in his opinion. More guns, more violence. Ironically, as my husband said yesterday, the NRA would argue that by not allowing their version of the Second Amendment rights, we allow the government to set up a police state, and yet, many of their members would advocate for more armed personnel in our schools, thus making it a police state. (Please do not try to engage me in a pro/con discussion of the NRA: I know many responsible gun owners, and responsible NRA members.) There is no logic to a gun. There is no purpose other than to kill, and kill quickly. We’ve all seem to have forgotten Trayvon Martin and our outrage over vigilantism. We respond to our fears, rationale or not, with more violence. We try to find the quick fix, like telling people not to wear hoodies.  One thing we are is amazingly reactionary: in times of crisis, we Americans are emotional, compassionate, and forgiving. But we are perhaps too “forgetting” as well.

Every one of us has different reasons for going into teaching, but one thing we all have in common is we love one another. This love comes in the form of sharing our time, hearts, knowledge, and spend hours reflecting on our practices to improve, to reach, to make the path clear for our students. To guide, to instruct, and we learn from them, and the reciprocal love we share cannot be denied. Our professional relationships with parents and communities can be at times antagonistic, when we believe they are harming their own children (and quite often, they are) or undermining a course of action. But I remind myself every single day, every single day, that that child in front of me is somebody’s baby, someone conceived in love, brought into the world, and wrapped in hopes, worry, and care. I am never far from this promise. My students are on the edge of young adulthood and all the angst that this brings.

Teaching is so many things that “no one ever told me.” There are more facets to being a teacher than any course of teaching certification can possibly prepare us for. But it is clear that many of our routines and practices are directly related to saving lives: fire drills, earthquake drills, and now lock-down drills. We’ve recently had suicide prevention training at my own school in light of the loss of a student last year, which I am just now able to talk about, barely. I am sure if I went to my district and said I need counseling they would provide it. The presentation and training were a two-part statistics and ‘how to’ talk to a student one may suspect of being suicidal, and the signs to notice, and levels of potential risk.

What struck all of us in the face during these very tough conversations was our collective question, “Okay – we have a student in danger. Then what?” And the flummoxed, pained body language answered the question: there is very little help out there. I learned that students can seek counseling under the age of 18 without their parents’ consent, however, they must show proof of insurance. This is a deadly Catch-22. But help isn’t something, or someone else: it’s us, it’s the teachers, who are there witnessing the bullying, the friendships, the academic struggles, the writing, the art, the clubs and interests, that shape and mold our children’s worlds. We are the first responders.

The first day, a Tuesday morning, we had our presentation on suicide prevention, the regular security guard was out on a family emergency, and word got around the school, and on Facebook, and some of the key investigative students formed planned fights. That Tuesday, there were seven fights in our building. My conversations with my students was to share with them my insight into their worlds: they have been raised in a world of violence as entertainment, and not just ‘make believe’ violence. This violence is in the form of them staging fights to film and upload to YouTube. It’s happened among my own students. It may have happened where you live. An amazing student of mine told me later, “Mrs. Love, I know you said that kids are bored and do all this violent stuff to be entertained, but I think they also do it because if they look at someone else’s life that’s worse, it makes them feel better.”

How could I have forgotten the trellis of human misery? 

I cannot stop all bad things from happening. I can’t. I can only prepare. If I work in a profession that requires lock-down drills in addition to fire and earthquake ones, then so be it.  My students know I have always taken these extremely seriously. My children were toddlers when Columbine happened. This is what they have grown up with. They have never not known a time of school shootings, increased violence, marginalized lives, and guns, guns, and more guns everywhere. I would like to start working toward a time when this are seen as “quaint” as a 1950s “duck and cover drill.” A relic from the past, from a time when the US was violent.

This is a screenshot only. Please click on the source to view further.

This “interactive map” shows the horror and disproportionate violence that has become all too common for U.S. schools. I hate that word ‘disproportionate’ in terms of this conversation: one shooting is too many.

 

This is a screenshot only. Please click on the source to view further.

 

 

 

 

So if I am a coward because I am asking the question, “In what other ways can we better serve our students, our nation, and ourselves?” as opposed to continuing the arms race that has become our nation and our schools, then so be it.

 

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§3018 · December 15, 2012 · Uncategorized · (2 comments) ·

Old dog.

I have a question for you: How do you keep up to date on new things, learn to keep what is old but works, and learn to let go of past bad teaching habits?

These questions were sparked by an anecdote, an epiphany, one of those, “So this is when it happens…” moments. The other day a young woman I am acquainted with is expecting her first baby any day now. He may even be in the world as I type. She was sharing that she was going out to buy some swaddling blankets, and emphasized they would be made of muslin. Some folks asked what swaddling was, and then muslin. “Swaddling” is when you wrap a newborn up like a burrito. It comforts many babies, although mine were so large at birth, swaddling was not really their gig. I chimed in and said swaddling blankets  could be made of flannel, too, and then she exclaimed that no, flannel swaddling has been linked to SIDS. Of course, I looked this up later, because this seemed like “let’s terrify new parents” meme versus actual scientific data. But anything that may keep a baby safe is usually a really good thing to know. Now, three thoughts: 1. I think this is a bunch of baloney, but would never question a woman about to have her first baby. New moms are a skittish lot, having been one myself. 2. I am now “of that age” when the expertise I gained as a new parent from reading books, information, and hands-on experience (nothing like on-the-job training!) has now become passe and irrelevant; 3. Old people don’t know anything according to young people. In this moment, this horrible moment, I imagined myself years hence, talking to one of my sons and fill-in-the-blank daughters-in-law when I become a grandma, and how I will be of no value to them. I will know nothing. I will be one of those women who says, “Well, my boys survived!” while pointing a bony, claw-like finger at them while holding a basket of apples and wearing a hooded cloak.

Deep breath. Okay. Not there yet.

But this led me to think of late I’ve been wondering if my teaching has stayed fresh. We get new programs, acronyms, and philosophies thrown at us constantly. We are told metaphorically that flannel blankets are bad, and muslin is the savior, in other words. And yet, with all this new new new–there are still so many parents who are not getting the fundamental message: Read to Your Child. If I could do one thing for new parents it would be to have them buy-in to the one thing that helps children grow and think. Yes, of course make sure they have well-fed and nourished tummies. Yes, make sure they have a clean, safe place to sleep. Keep them in routines. Don’t let them watch too much TV or stay no the computer. And read to them. But I cannot control what new parents do. I can only reflect upon my own best practices and try to keep them sharp: in this, I am fortunate to have an amazing mentor. Not only is she one of my dearest friends, but has such gentle insight into how to get all students to learn and think–she has a cache of teachers, too, who have thirty or more years of experience. These ladies know a thing or two about true, authentic, education.

Teaching is similar to medical practices in that we first want to do no harm. And yet, I also encounter teachers who have demeaned or bullied students, said a few things that bruise and pinch. I am not perfect, either. I have misinterpreted situations or actions, and encountered some broken children I have not been able to help. So I guess I am asking two questions: how do you first keep on top of your moral and ethical best practices, and then your pedagogical ones? Not an easy one to wrap up.

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§3015 · October 15, 2012 · Being a better teacher, Best Practices, Big Questions · (No comments) ·

Explore

I have ten minutes to write this. I have more than ten minutes of thoughts. Good thing I drafted it in the shower while brushing teeth and brewing coffee and feeding dog and looking fabulous. Sure. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

This was inspired by a Facebook post by Happy Rainbow, about wishing those of us who may have had Columbus Day off yesterday a good one. When I was a little girl, our schools in Texas took Columbus Day off, but haven’t enjoyed that holiday in years. I say ‘enjoy’ lightly. Columbus Day, and the adventures of Signore Columbus are fraught with all the pain, disease, cruelty, and general foundations for xenophobia that anyone can discuss. This is not about Columbus, or his exploits. This is a sticky-note of a thought: I would love more time, and I want more school. I know – this seems contradictory.

These are just wishes, and may never materialize, but maybe. I know in my sons’ school district, they decided to go every Friday as early release, and the teachers use this time for planning, professional development, etc. Students like my older son who are in their senor years, and have so much to do it makes me ashamed every time I feel overwhelmed, and others like my younger son who are desperately trying to stay organized, but who are so intelligent and creative, need time to explore the world. My younger son is happiest doing actual science and thinking about the world than siting in a classroom taking notes. Go figure. But my school district is still wrangling over time teachers are allowed to use for planning versus the district’s directions and mandates, and let me tell you, the whole thing has an undercoating of fear.

I do wish we would take a serious look at how kids spend their time, and how teachers meet and collaborate. This feeling of being pulled without effect or growth leads to exhaustion, and it’s not just me: http://theeducatorsroom.com/2012/09/the-exhaustion-of-the-american-teacher/

I want time for mini-sabbaticals. I want time to plan and create amazing lessons. Everything being done by the seat-of-my-pants is feeling a little…scabby. The gift of a schedule breather would be welcome to me. Now it comes in big swaths of time, and I think we end up doing so much review, that the continuity of learning never gets reached. Most importantly, I want my students to get the best from me, so I can truly help and guide them.

I don’t know – I do have more to say, but the clock tells me it’s time to go, take kids to their zero-hour events, and my crack-of-dawn meeting, where I am going to have to shut down conversation in order to get anything done.

Not good.

 

 

http://www.nanowrimo.org

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§3011 · October 9, 2012 · Being a better teacher, Big Questions · (No comments) ·

Sweet home test scores…

Oh, this post started off so well so many times in my head, and now that I am faced with big, bad computer screen, the beginning feels dicey.

Should I begin with how I know this person, whom I greatly respect and appreciate being allowed to be part of grand discussions? Should I begin with a short anecdote? Or, perhaps, I’ll begin with an ending:

Strike Over, Chicago Students Go Back to Classes

So, my friend Jason sent me this email recently:

Ok, so here’s my problem.  I generally like teachers.  In general terms I think they are overworked, under-appreciated, and underpaid.  But the more I read about this Chicago strike the harder I find it to come down on the teachers’ side.

First off, there’s pay.  According to the Union, the average teacher salary is $71,000 ($76,000 according to the city… which if these folks can’t even agree on how to calculate an average, maybe we should be spending more time talking about the math curriculum, but I digress.)  I know that 71k a year isn’t exactly get fat rich and retire early money but it’s not pauper money either.  My point here being, I’d love to be able to pay every teacher in America a 6-figure salary but at the same time, I’m surviving in San Francisco on 17k a year, so it’s hard for me be sympathetic to a the notion that only getting 71k is worth striking for.  Of far greater concern is that the contentious item in the salary debate is the amount of the automatic raise the teachers get every year.  As far as I can tell, every teacher in Chicago gets this raise without question.  This bit really rankles me, I have encountered plenty of teachers who have simply checked out and are phoning it in.  The teachers who are working their asses off and doing a good job are getting smaller raises to pay for the ones who have checked out.  I simply can’t imagine that there isn’t a better way to distribute these pay increases.
Another item of contention is the plan to lengthen the school day.  I saw a debate once on the inclusion of Intelligent Design into the science curriculum (which, by the by, I am vehemently against) in which the teachers lamented how little time they had to devote to complex subjects, such as evolution.  This makes perfect sense to me, everything has an opportunity cost and we live in a very complex world.  The teachers who I admire and respect are always trying to cram just a little bit more into their lectures and never seem to have the time to get everything they want in.  I cannot understand how teachers are not jumping for joy at the opportunity to expand their curriculum.  Obviously it means being “at the office” a longer but it seems like the benefits to the good teachers who want more time with the kids would vastly outweigh the costs to the bad teachers who can’t wait for the bell to escape.
The next concern I have is with regards to the “job security” clause.  The Union is demanding the kind of guarantees that no one else in any industry gets.  Of course everyone wants to have job security but I cannot understand why this sort of guarantee is justified, particularly when everyone else in the job market is facing such wicked unemployment.
Lastly, there seem to be a variety of clauses intended to increase accountability.   If these measures are reasonably accurate, it seems like the only people who would be opposed to them would be the bad teachers.  Of course, there’s the argument that the measures aren’t accurate but I don’t hear that argument nearly as often as the claim that “X number of teachers won’t be able to pass the exam.”  It seems to me that that argument is not an argument against having the evaluation.  That means one of two things, the evaluation system is flawed, in which case we should be arguing for a better evaluation rather than no evaluation.  Alternatively, the evaluation is a reasonable approximation of performance and those teachers who can’t pass need to do something about that issue.
The other thing that isn’t an issue directly relating to the strike but making it hard for me to come down on the teachers’ side is the nature of the two campaigns.  From Mayor Emanual and his supporters, I see a number of what appear to be very reasonable, specific proposals backed by concrete numbers.  From the teachers and their supporters I see primarily vague values statements, e.g. “We have to protect education for our kids and our futures.”  (Or something to the effect of “Rahm Emanuel is a jackbooted thug pushing the Evil Corporate Overlords’ Plan to Destroy the World.”)  I think it is clear that most Chicago (or American) schools are not adapting to our information age or adequately preparing a scientifically literate population.  If they’re against Mayor Emanual and for us, where is there alternate proposal?  I’m always hesitant to assign motive but if you wanted to resist change purely because it was easier to just keep doing what you’ve always done, it seems like you’d behave exactly the way the teachers are behaving.  To put it another way, President Franklin Roosevelt once said, “There are many ways to move forward but only one way to stand still.”  No matter how much I want to be on the teachers side, everything I observe seems put Mayor Emanuel on the moving forward side of that quote and the teachers on the standing still side.
So, at the end of the day, I still want to be on the teachers side.  What am I missing?  Where am I wrong?
Jason, Serious Economic Smarty-Pants Esquire
P.S. I’m adopting that as my official job title.  Also, sorry if this is a bit haphazard, I’ve got a lecture in a minute and don’t have time for my usual editing.
 Jason is a friend whom I’ve genuinely enjoyed getting to know through social Azeroth connections. I have a handful of those whom I now consider actual friends. This is not uncommon, nor unusual. Consider it like a weekly bridge or book club–some of your friends bring along others they know, and your circle of friends grows. (True, you may want to throw your glass of Chardonnay in the face of the woman who takes a bold stance on why Twilight is greater fiction than Harry Potter, but I digress…) I know of many couples who have even met, and married, from their social gaming, but that is a post for another day. This is about having new arenas for the grand conversations, the debates, the “Smarty-pants” talk that I do not get to enjoy with my colleagues.
Wait, what?!
What did I just say? I don’t get to enjoy these types of conversations wit my colleagues? No, as a matter of fact I don’t. In our meetings, though we have established ‘norms,’ the norms get tossed aside by those who do not follow ‘norms’ as a general personality rule. We don’t get to collaborate or discuss because the focus are data, data, data, including this morning’s 7:35AM meeting, on the same day as Open House, so I will be part of my job literally for over 12 hours with a 25 minute lunch break. Yes, there is a break between the end of school and tonight, but I will be spending that trying to get my room ready. Why isn’t it ready? Because I went to Texas to see my mom who had just had surgery, and I love my mom, and my dad, and would see them anyway, and I had to move classrooms, and I have to drive sons to activities before and after my contract day, and my classroom still needs organizing, and and and ….I asked to come in on weekends but alas, I can’t. None of us can. I know our new principal has solid reasons, but my three hour window before Open House will be spent preparing my room so I can give parents a good impression. (The NBCT sticker on my classroom door window should signal to them I am bonafide!)
Wow, were you as tired reading that as I was writing it?
So, back to Jason’s question. Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. Wait. No. Wrong question.
The Chicago thing. I still haven’t had time to really read anything about it. Sure, I listened to the NPR story yesterday after work while I was frantically driving to the bank and grocery store to pick up dinner. This is after another long day because we had a union meeting in the morning (we had another 7:35 am meeting on Tuesday morning, too). Our building representative touched on the Chicago story briefly saying it was about “test scores.”
I am sure it was more than that–BUT — if that is all it was about, that’s all it needs to be about.
I asked my students last year if they thought it would be fair if I got paid based on how well they did on the MSP (Measurement of Student Progress). They immediately, and resoundly, said “NO!” These astute seventh grade kiddoes knew immediatley how much their ultimate performance was not in my control: many of them are truant, many come from families whose first language is not English, many of them have not enjoyed early childhood experiences, such as reading a story every night, or going to the library, or talking about their day with an (intrusive) parent (from the perspective of an adolescent anyway). My esteemed ELL teacher/colleague was near shaking when she reminded us about the twenty African refugees who literally had to take the MSP the week they arrived in the country. So–her salary should be based on their performance?
I promise I will do everything I can to get your child to read because it’s the right thing to do.
Wait, that’s not enough? What about those teachers who don’t make that promise? How can we weed them out?
First, I am not sure. I’m not even sure what is a “bad” teacher, except for the obvious egregious lack of moral character. Second, I do know that using an arbitrary test that may have deep flaws as the guillotine blade is not the answer. Last year, our district purchased a testing service that was so faulty, so flawed, so full of typos and confusion, that I am deeply horrified to imagine if this assessment was used as a means to judge my teaching credentials. And, I have suspicions that it was, considering the morass of red ink on my students’ data. And yet– my students went up to 57% passing. I believe it should be more, and no, I don’t want to be paid more for it.
If districts need data for teachers’ worth, perhaps the classroom work in itself can be used? Those best practices can somehow be managed and reviewed? Oh wait, they are in bi-annual reviews.
Now – let’s talk money.
I know there are teachers who make twice what I do. All I have ever wished for, and this is morbid, scary, and sad, is a salary that if something happens to my husband, I could still make a yearly salary so I can pay for our mortgage, a car for me and my sons, and college. But that is not my current reality, so yes, I am kind of freaked out. Romney would say I’m acting all entitlted and stuff, I know. I  am crazy like that, wanting to educate my children and have a roof over our heads.
I wish my master’s student loans weren’t hanging over my head. I wish I didn’t owe more for those loans than the sum total of all cars I have ever owned. I wish there was a savings account and a retirement fund and a hefty college savings for my sons. And I also wish all of my students could read at grade level and beyond. I am so overwhelmed by the next five minutes, I can’t carve out time to think about the big picture.
So do I stand with or against the teachers in Chicago?
I wish it wasn’t the question.
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§3000 · September 20, 2012 · Being a better teacher, New News · (No comments) ·

Five-Square Miles

This is one of those writing-to-publish moments I may regret. I am still so romanced and naive about the whole “Internet is permanent” thing that sometimes it takes over my better judgment, what little there is of it. I will rationalize it with this: I am a believer in sharing of credible information, so I will take up that banner, and march bravely on. You will understand in a moment.

This school year, so far, has been amazing. I asked our intrepid school counselor to put as many of my seventh grade students on my eighth grade rosters, and he did, and I am thoroughly enjoying meeting many wonderful new students. Let me qualify “wonderful:” these students have already been freely expressing emotions, curiosity, creativity, and genuine kindness. I have one I am concerned about for many reasons, and one I am concerned about for other reasons, but I can see how building a community can help pull the tide of compassion to all of our benefits. Our new principal is just what I and the school needed: direct, bullet-pointed and logical. It feels refreshing to have data provided and time to work in PLCs to analyze it, because as we all know, data without analysis are rubbish (and yes, data are plural, as in “Data R Us.”) At first glance, “my” reading numbers for seventh grade jumped up (I did not teach seventh grade in 2011-2012, but my eighth grade students were hovering around 55%):

7th Grade Reading
Year School District State
2005-06 WASL 47.2% 56.4% 61.5%
2006-07 WASL 56.4% 63.0% 68.7%
2007-08 WASL 51.6% 60.0% 63.1%
2008-09 WASL 49.2% 51.5% 59.3%
2009-10 MSP 47.7% 57.7% 63.4%
2010-11 MSP 43.7% 54.9% 56.5%
2011-12 MSP 57.6% 69.3% 71.2%

Writing: Not so great. I have a few theories on this, but suffice it to say when we analyzed our students’ writing last year, we spent a lot of time looking at each others’ students, and not our own, and feedback to our own students was starved of time. That was one hill I “died” on, but will continue the discussion if I need to do so.

It was also interesting to note the rise of free and reduced lunches, from around 65% to almost 75%. Well, I say “interesting,” but that is not the word. It’s not interesting at all, or surprising. We are still reeling from the fall-out of Wall Street greed, and will be recovering from that debacle for decades.

Which bring me to yesterday morning. My husband of almost twenty years has Type II Diabetes and atrial fibrillation. He blacked out yesterday morning, and we went to the new emergency room. He’s fine, and will be fine. Ignoring my logic and instincts, because I operate on both, which comes in the form of living in a constant state of asking “Is this foreshadowing in my real life?!”, I had thought to myself I had better get sub plans together, and my desk organized, in case something happened to him. And sure enough, between the 6:30 AM drives to jazz band for our boys, and meetings (see data above to know topic of said meetings) and then my own fuzzy-brain-ness at the end of the day (middle schoolers are an enthusiastic bunch), I didn’t get to it. I have NEVER not had a sub folder ready to go in my room, until of course, yesterday. Needless to say that is one thing I will be doing this weekend. To be clear: I did not share the story of my husband because I am seeking sympathy: I shared it because we are all going through something now, and seem to be on collective survivor mode. This is not good.

So, as I am checking emails and such, a very dear friend was quering me on the state of things in Chicago. Chicago? What? Why? I responded, mystified, and then realized, “Oh! Chicago!! The strike!” I was so self-absorbed in my own little patch of earth, my husband, my students, my data, my whatever, I have barely noticed. And that saddens me. Punching through the radio dial earlier this week, I heard one angry Chicago mother, screaming about the teachers’ greed. I turned to the rock station. I read one of my favorite bloggers, Teacher Tom, and his insights: http://teachertomsblog.blogspot.com/2012/09/i-stand-with-chicago-teachers.htm

and I looked over another one of my favorite teacher bloggers, John Spencer, to see if he had anything to say, but I couldn’t find a specific post.

But here is what I think, and have thought:

  • This is more of the same. Greed, bullying, and disregard for what makes our country superlative: free, public education.
  • We lose that, we lose everything.

For those of you who think that voting for the “rich guys” is going to make you part of their club, that ‘poverty by assoication’ is what you get when you vote for financial reform and ensuring those at the top pay their fair share, I am pleading with you–consider, well, me. I am one of the good guys. I am trying my damndest to education our children. I want our children to be able to articulate why they want to work for your company. I want our children to help make the world better, be it a software engineer, doctor, performance artist, writer, or risk analyst. Don’t believe the bully-spin.

We teachers all know of students whose parents have more than they can handle now. Single moms, more than three children, high unemployment, and their children begin to run feral. They entertain themselves by filming students fighting, or worse. They entertain themselves by manipulating their peers, and using technology to devastate each other. They use media to propogate hate and lies.

Wonder where they learn it?

So, I am going to do some thinking outside of my five-mile patch, and see if I can do some world-changing, too.

 

Addendum:

Of course, pondering the woulda-couldas, I realized this post was even leaning too much to the bleeding heart side, even for me. I had the chance to review it with my respected friend, who is a genius economics smarty-pants. I do not want to paint too broad of a stroke over the word “greed.” We can point to specific causes, for example the repeal of the Glass-Steagal act. 

But–I am trying to pin down my point of all this: perhaps it’s while we’re all living our daily lives, trying to work, trying to raise families, trying to do whatever it is that brings us joy, we lose sight of our bigger goals. If I’m worried about my husband, and I’m worried about health benefits, then I’m worried if something happens to him, then I’m worried about trying to raise two sons on a teacher’s salary, then I’m worried I won’t be able to pay for their college, and so on, so that when things like the repeal of the Glass-Steagal acts happen, no one is on the watch, no one knows their history, and no one is there to try to keep it from repeating itself. This is squarely my opinion: the wealthiest want us to forget. They want us to not know. They want us to stay ignorant, so that we don’t say “Wait a red-hot minute!” They claim we are the bombastic, the audacious, the entitled and the ungrateful.

I just say –you’re breaking my heart, bleeding or not.

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§2994 · September 15, 2012 · Being a better teacher, Big Questions, burning questions · (No comments) ·

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