As you know from the rapid replacement of holiday displays which began at midnight on December 26th, Valentine’s Day is coming. February, it turns out, is the month of love.
Well, not REAL love… but exploitative, crass, commercialized love, packed with artificial ingredients – cultural pressure to overspend, unnecessary emotional theatrics, and the obligatory scarlet flora whose lifespan will fall WELL short of the concomitant credit card payments.
In other words, it’s the most American holiday this side of the 4th of July!
Blue Cereal would like to SHARE the love this year throughout the month of February. Initially I thought I might stick with the tried-and-true… Daily lingerie pics of myself in lacy garments of the sort which inevitably SCREAM, “I’m trying WAY too hard.” Whitney Houston (or whoever the kids are listening to these days) belting out that “Eye…hee-eye… will always love youuuuu…hee-oooouuuu!” Maybe even some of those little candy hearts with wacky messages like “Diabetes turns me on!” or “It’s OK – I’m #11FF!”
But it all seemed too obvious. Too crass. Too commercial and not at all useful. (Well, except for the lingerie shots. I may still do those. Viewership has been down and I could use the clicks.)
Instead, February will see the return of a few things I’ve enjoyed doing in the past.
Killer Blue Serials
Our first “Share The Love” feature will be a weekly installment of “Blue Serials” – summaries and commentary on the best recent edu-blogging, edu-news, and anything else which catches my attention. It’s my goal to use whatever platform I have to promote the lesser-thans, the little people, the wish-we-were-more-like-Blue-Cereal crowd. I can think of nothing more noble than wanting to be more like me, and I’d like to encourage these aspirations.
With that in mind, I’m asking you, my Eleven Faithful Followers, to recommend posts or articles related to education (or not) from the past month or two which deserve a wider audience or a second look. You need not limit yourself to blogs or publications of a particular size – my readership may not be as large as whoever you have in mind, but that doesn’t mean the same people read us both. Email me at [email protected] with links and a brief explanation of why you like whatever it is you’re recommending, and we’ll see how things unfold. When in doubt, send it on – we define “related to education” rather loosely around these parts!
If I use your suggestion, I’ll send you a Limited Edition Rare Inspirational Full-Color Collectors-Only Blue Cereal #11FF Lunch Box – one of the longest-named gimmicks in all of edu-bloggery! These were a big deal a few years back, and I recently discovered an untapped stash of a few remaining items which remain homeless and alone. If I understand the laws of supply-and-demand correctly, that means that the more you talk them up and project a desperate desire to secure one, the more status we can BOTH pretend this lunch box conveys on any who wields it.
Sharing Is Caring
The second February “Share The Love” feature will be an open call for guest bloggers. Whatever you’re willing to share with fellow teachers or say about the world of education (or even the world in which education occurs), this is your chance. I’m not talking about you weirdos who want to promote your herbal supplements or low-cost imitation iPhones here. I’m looking for classroom experiences, lesson ideas, successes or failures, political issues, etc. – actual writing by real people about education, or kids, or life, or whatever’s on your mind.
Recommended length is 1,200 – 1,600 words, although I’m flexible if it’s any good. Email me your post and if I use it, you’ll receive one of the same #11FF Lunch Boxes I was carrying on about above. (I hope you were paying attention because I REALLY don’t want to have to repeat all that.)
Finally, anything else which might pop up here during February will either be about faux love (maybe a collection of my favorite “tainted love”-themed songs?) or about you and I actually sharing REAL BRILLIANCE and REAL LOVE with one another and the world at large. Either way, I hope you’ll play along. Otherwise, it’s going to be a long, lonely, depressing February!
I was in a band many, many, MANY years ago. We considered ourselves “college alternative” – immersed in R.E.M., the Smiths, the Cure, and MTV’s 120 Minutes. We didn’t actually sound like ANY of them, which was both a glaring flaw and source of inner pride. Originality and Lack of Quality formed quite an edgy Venn Diagram back in the day.
I played guitar, sort of. I didn’t suck. I wrote a few songs and sang well enough for the genre. The smartest thing I did, however, was hook up with three truly talented individuals, then convince my parents to let me use their SUV for gigs, thus giving the band serious motivation to keep me around.
We played local dives for little or no money, occasionally branching out by driving long distances to play other town’s dives for little or no money – something we liked to call “progress.” We eventually managed to get ourselves booked at a trendy new venue in our area – an artsy place which drew a larger and more diverse crowd than our typical haunts. This was the big time, relatively speaking, and we were going to make the most of it.
We hung up flyers and called in favors and managed to pull a pretty decent crowd, most of whom had never actually heard us before (hence their willingness to come). We decided to open with a song featuring my limited guitar chops prominently. It started with a bluesy hook that was nevertheless alternative enough to protect our street cred. I was in my best black turtleneck and plugged into at least eight effects pedals, three of which I didn’t actually own. We were beatniks and rebels and didn’t care who knew it, baby.
I hit those first few notes, bending those strings like I meant it and strutting as if I’d actually done this before – which, I mean, I had… but not here. Not like this. And it was pretty awesome for about 12 seconds.
Then it all stopped.
See, we were on a 12-foot stage for the first time, giving me around 8 feet of strutting space to work with. It was wonderful after months of squeezing in behind Asteroids machines and pool tables, and we made full use of it in those opening moments – myself, my guitar… and the 6-foot cord connecting it to my amp.
It yanked out in mid-sneer just as the bass and hi-hats kicked in, making for an awkward fade-away and unpleasant electronic buzz. I jerked backwards ever so slightly, which – along with my tragicomic expression – thoroughly eliminated any last trace of cool.
The band handled it better than I did. Our drummer made all the right jokes while the bass player did exaggerated mime demonstrating where I could and couldn’t stand for the rest of the evening. They kept things moving while I scrambled to recover. Which I did, eventually.
After what felt like a decade or two, I was plugged back in and ready to go. I even managed to replay the intro – this time without so much strutting. I found myself connecting to the lyrics which had previously seemed so tame:
Take me anywhere, I don’t care. Take me anywhere, I don’t care. Take me anywhere – anywhere at all. Take me anywhere but here.
I didn’t feel particularly rock’n’roll for the rest of the night, but it was a decent show, overall. Things went south for a bit, but we got back up and played a little bit louder as a result. So goes rock’n’roll.
Crashing and Learning
I’d been teaching several years before I realized that one of the biggest differences in “kids these days” is their lack of traditional “cultural literacy.” They have their own stories and frames of reference, but they’re not the same as those you and I might assume. The church-goers don’t know Bible stories, the aspiring writers don’t know Shakespeare, and aside from a few of the biggies – the Three Little Pigs and maybe Cinderella – none of them know the same fairy tales and folklore we grew up with.
We were discussing First Bull Run – the first major battle of the Civil War. “Stonewall” Jackson earned his nickname by rallying Confederate troops attempting to flee and insisting they hold the line against the Union pursuit. I was having difficulty communicating the dynamics of the situation when I heard myself fall back on analogy – tapping into the power of allusion, if you will. Only it didn’t come out the way I intended.
It’s like that little boy who used his finger on the dike…
I promise you, I heard it when they heard it. Even if you know the story, my phrasing was atrocious. And they didn’t know the story. They had only the face value of my statement to work with, and honestly – that didn’t clarify the “Stonewall” Jackson situation AT ALL.
There was a horrible pause before I began scrambling to recover.
What I mean is, there’s that story… about the dam! The dam was going to break!
Um… the damn what, Mr. Blue?
This was a Pre-AP class, full of high school freshmen with large vocabularies and enough creativity to provide their own inappropriate responses to that one. It took a few minutes to reign it all in, during which I was wondering quite sincerely whether or not I was likely to be fired that very day.
Then again, that was a feeling I had 2 or 3 times a week, every week, for several years. You get used to it after a while.
There were times I spoke out of frustration, like during a “come-to-Jesus” meeting with my 3rd hour one morning. This was an advanced group who had all the tools necessary to be brilliant but tended to prefer smugness with a side of lethargy. I heard my tone shift into “genuinely annoyed” as I accused them (always a bad approach) of too many years of being mommy’s little angels who never had to push themselves in school before so now they just sat there satisfied with their own Pre-AP-ness and—
Once again, heard it when they heard it. And once again, the original intent of the conversation was lost forever.
Most of my REAL disasters were the result of efforts to be funny, or built rapport, or simply because if you talk to enough teenagers for enough years, you forget to treat every conversation like a potential lawsuit. You start to think of them as almost like real people and as a result, you sometimes resort to real talk. That may sound all relationship-building and warm-fuzzy, but it’s a disaster from a liability standpoint, as any school district’s attorney will remind you.
Still, when stuff happens, you recover and move one. Things go south here and there – sometimes a little and sometimes a lot – but you get back up and teach a little harder as a result. So goes public education.
You Get Up
My examples are trivial, of course, compared to real problems. Most of us have survived a biggie or two – divorce, disease, the death of loved ones (family, friends, or students), the loss of a job we really cared about. Maybe we manage it with grace, or maybe we just manage it, but one way or the other we crash, we burn, we suffer, we regret, then at some point we get up and keep going.
It’s not always noble. Sometimes it’s just the only thing we know how to do. To quote the late, great Cannonball Adderley,
Sometimes things don’t lay the way they’s a-posed to lay.
Mercy, mercy, mercy…
It’s a teacher thing, to be sure, but it’s also a parent thing… and a spouse thing… and a writer thing… and a salesman thing… and a pro-wrestler thing… and a mid-level management in charge of human resources and development but also the only one who ever brings donuts or cleans the coffee machine thing… and probably lots of other things as well.
It’s OK to feel cool from time to time, or smart, or pretty, or funny, or successful. Realize, however, that the Universe will restore balance from time to time – a supernatural “regression to the mean,” as it were. Sometimes we’re better off for it. Other times it just sucks and we want to die. Maybe you did it to yourself, or maybe it happens no matter what you do right to avoid it.
I realize this is not a particularly inspirational piece of writing. I can’t even assure you that it’s all for the best, or that you’ll never be given anything you can’t handle. Maybe you are a cotton-headed ninny muggins – or maybe you’re just… special.
What I can say is that it’s OK if you’ve screwed up. It’s OK if you still hurt and you’re still confused and you’re still not entirely certain why you leave your bed in the morning. It’s even OK if you have some anger things or other emotional issues you really need to deal with soon or you’ll just go doing it again – whatever “it” might be.
But we have to get up. You have to GET UP. Recover and move on. Somehow. Again. Hopefully we learn as we go, and maybe we get a little bit better here and there. Either way, though, it’s time to try again.
So goes rock’n’roll. So goes public education. So goes real life.
NOTE: I’ve finally completed “Have To” History: Landmark Supreme Court Cases. The following is an excerpt from this work, inspired only by my love of sharing and having nothing to do with current events. (We work very hard in history education to make sure there’s as little connection as possible between what we cover in class and what’s happening in the real world around us. Otherwise – phone calls!)
Stuff You Don’t Really Want To Know (But For Some Reason Have To) About U.S. v. Nixon (1974)
Three Big Things:
1. In 1972, five men working for the Nixon Administration were caught breaking into Democratic National Headquarters. Investigations revealed much wider-spread wrongdoing by the White House – and efforts by the President himself to cover it all up.
2. When it was revealed that the President recorded his conversations, the tapes were subpoenaed by Congress; Nixon refused, claiming “executive privilege.”
3. The Supreme Court ruled against the President, who resigned to avoid impeachment. “Watergate” became shorthand for all things corrupt, especially in reference to major political scandals.
Background
President Nixon was a very naughty man. Or, at least, he did some very naughty things (and then lied about it).
Richard M. Nixon began his political career in the House of Representatives, where he served the 12th District of California from 1947 – 1950. In 1950 he successfully ran for one of the state’s two Senate seats, which he held until asked to be the running mate of Dwight D. Eisenhower in the Presidential Election of 1952. While Eisenhower focused on the positives – what he wanted to do for the country – Nixon handled the negatives, attacking opponents and criticizing Democratic policies. It was a successful strategy; Nixon became Vice President in 1953.
Nixon’s involvement in the Eisenhower Administration was much more active than had been typical with prior VPs. He chaired security meetings when the President was absent and interacted with foreign leaders around the world. Nixon was virulently anti-Communist, but surprisingly diplomatic and seemingly unflappable in the face of protests, violence, or other challenges from detractors. He served under President Eisenhower for eight years.
Nixon attempted to ride this momentum to his own administration in 1960 but lost to John F. Kennedy in one of the most famous elections of the 20th century. JFK was young, optimistic, handsome, and Catholic, while Nixon was, well… himself. Nixon next sought the governorship of California in 1962, but again fell short. During his concession speech, Nixon’s frustration boiled over as he told the reporters that they wouldn’t “have Nixon to kick around anymore.” He was done with politics.
He probably meant it at the time, but it didn’t last long. Six short years later, in 1968, he was elected President.
President Nixon
By 1968, the Vietnam War was beginning to look to many Americans like nightmarish quagmire we remember today. The Civil Rights movement was in full swing but faced violence and ugly backlash with every success. JFK had been assassinated in 1963, Malcolm X in 1965, MLK in April of 1968, and Robert Kennedy – on his way to becoming the Democratic nominee for President – in June. These were days of sex and hippies and drugs and war protests, and while pop culture too often overlooks the many folks simply going to school or work and trying to live their daily lives as best they could, the nation was arguably in its most self-destructive phase since the Civil War.
When times are good, Americans want freedom. When things turn chaotic and dark, however, most people want structure. Decency. A return to “normalcy.” It was out of such times that Nixon re-emerged, promising to restore law and order. He appealed to the “silent majority” he believed still knew how to be proper Americans. His “southern strategy” played on white resentment of black progress and used thinly veiled nativism to secure the support of conservatives and a shaken middle class in whatever part of the country they resided.
It seems to have worked. Nixon won by a substantial majority of electoral votes and the Republican Party picked up seats in both the House and the Senate.
Nixon’s victory did nothing to reduce his hostility towards the press, however. He blamed them for Kennedy’s victory eight years before. He was angry over the 1971 release of the Pentagon Papers which proved that President Lyndon B. Johnson had lied about the Vietnam War – not just a little, but a LOT, and not just to the public, but to Congress. (It wasn’t that Nixon felt particularly protective of Johnson; it was just inconvenient to deal with the resulting skepticism and heightened scrutiny of the office – particularly when trying to do shady, illegal things.)
It wasn’t just the press. He was paranoid about the Democratic Party, war protestors, and his own place in history as well. A covert group of trusted minions known as CREEP (the Committee to Re-Elect the President) engaged in a variety of illegal activities attempting to thwart Nixon’s many perceived enemies. They broke into offices, stole secrets, infiltrated opposition groups – whatever it took to enforce unquestioned loyalty with little regard for either decency or the law. As Nixon would later tell interviewer David Frost, “when the President does it, that means it’s not illegal.”
Clearly these were different times. We’re fortunate to have evolved so far beyond such things.
The Watergate Break-In
In June of 1972, a group of men known as “The Plumbers,” who worked for CREEP, broke into the Watergate Office Building which housed, among other things, Democratic National Committee Headquarters. It’s not clear specifically what they hoped to accomplish, but it seemed they might be looking to bug some phones and steal a few files. The break-in was reported the next day in the press, but considered relatively minor news at first. The White House denied all knowledge of or involvement in the effort.
Over time, however, persistent investigation and reporting – particularly that of Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein at the Washington Post, began to uncover deeper shenanigans in and around the Oval Office. While Nixon had not necessarily ordered the break-in, he had clearly been involved in covering it up. The President used a strategy of repeated denials, constant misdirection, and hyperbolic accusations regarding the motives of his accusers to offset each new revelation. Eventually, the average American was both too numb to know what to believe and tired of hearing about it or trying to make sense of it. Nixon was re-elected easily in 1974, but the issue refused to die.
Eventually a Special Prosecutor was appointed (Archibald Cox) and the Senate began hearings into the break-in and related events. During these hearings, it was unexpectedly revealed that the President secretly recorded every discussion taking place in the Oval Office or on the Oval Office phone. “Hmm,” the Senate thought. “Those sure would be handy to have.” So, they subpoenaed the tapes.
Nixon at this point insisted that the Special Prosecutor to drop the investigation. He wouldn’t, so Nixon ordered his Attorney General to fire Cox. He refused, so Nixon accepted his resignation. He then ordered the Deputy Attorney General to fire Cox, with the same results. Finally, Nixon tried the Solicitor General, Robert Bork, at that point the Acting Attorney General. Bork fired Cox and kept his job, thus concluding the “Saturday Night Massacre.” (Bork was later nominated to the Supreme Court by President Reagan but could not secure Senate approval.)
Nixon tried to pacify Congress with heavily edited transcripts, summaries, and audio excerpts, but the Senate wanted it all. More and more, the public was beginning to agree. In 1974, the issue reached the Supreme Court.
United States v. Nixon (1974)
Attorneys for the President argued that the separation of powers as mandated by the U.S. Constitution meant the Judicial Branch lacked justiciability in this case, which was strictly between the President and Special Prosecutor – both members of the Executive Branch. In short, it was a family matter. The Court had no role.
Their slightly more plausible argument was that “executive privilege” protected the President from being forced to release the tapes. High level politicians, foreign leaders, and advisors must be able to speak with candor to the President, knowing their privacy would be protected. If high-level conversations were subject to public scrutiny, people would speak less openly and honestly. Politics would trump effective leadership.
Attorneys for the rest of the U.S. government argued that even if executive privilege did require some discretion as to what information could be made public, there was a nevertheless substantial state interest in a fair and complete criminal investigation. It wasn’t just the President; men were going to prison for their roles in the break-in, the cover-up, and whatever else was being revealed along the way. There was every reason to believe these tapes contained specific information related to the investigation; justice demanded their release.
In other words, they weren’t looking for launch codes or wanting to publish ‘behind-the-scenes” dirt on controversial foreign policy decisions. They wanted to know if there was a record of the President saying, “Let’s break the law and then cover it up” or “Hey, Dean – nice job on that felony offense!”
The Decision
In their unanimous decision, penned by Chief Justice Warren Burger, the Supreme Court ordered the President to turn over the tapes. They’d be listened to “in camera” – in chambers, privately, to determine which parts were relevant to the case without revealing state secrets or other privileged information to the public.
The “separation of powers” argument, it turned out, did not mean what the President’s attorneys wanted it to mean:
In designing the structure of our Government and dividing and allocating the sovereign power among three co-equal branches, the Framers of the Constitution sought to provide a comprehensive system, but the separate powers were not intended to operate with absolute independence.
While the Constitution diffuses power the better to secure liberty, it also contemplates that practice will integrate the dispersed powers into a workable government. It enjoins upon its branches separateness but interdependence, autonomy but reciprocity.
Besides, the Chief Justice added, the issue was before the Court not in spite of the separation of powers, but specifically because of them. Quoting Chief Justice John Marshall’s opinion in Marbury v. Madison (1803), he concluded, “it is the duty of the courts to say what the law is.”
As to executive privilege, the Court acknowledged that the Executive requires some expectation of confidentiality. Military secrets, national security, difficult policy choices, all required the sort of blunt debate and absolute honesty impossible without it. But the President wasn’t claiming that national defense secrets were involved, or sensitive foreign policy choices, or complex policy debates. He was claiming a blanket right to operate in absolute isolation and without accountability. That, the Court said, is not how it works.
Aftermath
Twelve days later, the White House released the tapes. It was soon discovered that some sections had been erased, despite the Court’s order. The rest, however, provided more than enough damning information to eliminate any chance of Nixon surviving impeachment. A few days after the release of the tapes, the President resigned. Gerald Ford became President, and later pardoned Nixon.
Although Nixon lost his case, the Court’s decision in United States v. Nixon did acknowledge for the first time a degree of executive privilege. Numerous administrations since have made similar claims, looking to protect themselves in the name of protecting the country. At the same time, “Watergate” or anything with “-gate” tacked on to the end has become popular shorthand for any number of political scandals or controversies.
It’s almost the end of the semester and – more importantly – the end of another year. I’ve never been one to take on gym memberships I likely won’t use or promise to end habits I’ll probably continue. I do, however, like the idea of fresh starts. They’re rarely total and never complete, but new beginnings – like new school years, new principals, or impeachment hearings, imply a sort of absolution for what’s past and hope for what the future could be.
In other words, January 1st is a reboot of sorts. And some of us need it more than others.
Let’s face it – no one carries around a pervading sense of guilt and inadequacy like teachers. They care deeply, feel strongly, and give muchly – often to a fault. Many of us are able to be professionally developed, pedagogically creative, and politically active, all while scoring way too high on any clinical assessment of personal dysfunctions.
I think it actually goes together – the passion for learning, the tolerance for teenagers, and the emotional mess most of us manage to be. Two sides of the same smashed penny.
Ruining the Pathology Curve
Not all teachers, of course. Some of you are relatively well-adjusted and fulfilled by a healthy variety of things in both your personal and professional lives. You can’t conceive of something a 16-year old said last Tuesday bugging you in the shower tomorrow morning. You’re perfectly dedicated, but you’d never sacrifice family time or lose actual sleep over the way 3rd hour butchered that project you were so excited about.
If that’s you, then bless you. Go with God. The rest of us find you weird, but we’re in no position to criticize. We have enough doubt and insecurity to keep us busy without trying to make you our scapegoat.
Still, you might dial it back a bit come March or things could get a bit ugly. At least show up disheveled or almost late once or twice. For the team.
Real Talk
The rest of us aren’t merely relieved to be wrapping up the first half of the school year, but a bit surprised to have survived it at all. You may be wondering if this was really your best choice of schools, or states, or whether or not you’re even in the right profession. You may feel like you haven’t done enough for your students, or – worse – that you’ve done everything you could and it just… didn’t work.
You may feel discouraged, or guilty, or pissed off – but not sure why. A few are genuinely broken, while others settle for denial and maybe a bit more wine than usual. One or two of you are thinking about turning in your keys and going to sell insurance for your brother-in-law like he keeps suggesting.
Do what you gotta do for your life and those you love, but allow me to first clarify a few things about this past semester, and these past few years for that matter. After that, well… it’s your call.
FIRST: It’s Not You, It’s Them.
There’s a foundational conundrum in public education which we don’t address as directly as we should, probably for fear of being misunderstood. It is this:
Most of the problems which manifest themselves in the classroom – from behavior to grades to curriculum to testing – originate outside of the teacher’s control. On the other hand, the only thing the teacher can directly shape is what he or she does to adjust and manage these issues, thus taking full responsibility.
Not culpability – responsibility. The kind we take on by choice because this is what we do; not the kind where it’s all our fault. The kind where we’re willing to bend over backwards trying to find solutions; not the kind where we’re the problem.
Adrian can’t read, Garrett has anger issues, and Anaiyah won’t turn in assignments no matter how often you beg. Yes, you are the adult in the room who must figure out ways to address these issues. Yes, you are the educator who has taken responsibility for solving these problems as best you can. But you didn’t cause them. They are not your failure. They are not proof of anything about you, other than your willingness to keep trying.
Make like Elsa and LET IT GO. You’re killing yourself slowly with the wrong sad song. At the risk of being blunt, you’re not important enough to have messed them up this thoroughly in the short time you’ve had them, and not special enough to fix it all in a school year.
SECOND: Evaluations Aren’t Real
Unless you have a particularly enlightened and involved administration, you may safely ignore everything they say in your evaluations in terms of measuring your actual worth. You may want to jump through a few hoops to keep the rubrics happy or show you’re a “team player,” but only take official evaluations to heart if the comments resonate with you as both genuine and useful.
I’m not suggesting you grab your building rep and throw a fit in the follow-up conference. Evals are part of the gig, for both you and them. Besides, criticism can be helpful, whether it’s presented constructively or not. But most evaluations are hoops for your administration to jump through to please their bosses. They, in turn, have to keep the state happy. The system is dictated by legislators who may not even like public schooling – and who certainly have no idea what makes a successful teacher.
Do what you gotta do to keep your gig or score that merit pay, but don’t take evals to heart if – after a reasonable period of reflection – you decide they’re neither accurate nor useful.
Because they’re probably not.
THIRD: Reject Teacher Stereotypes
I suppose there are teachers out there who suck and simply don’t care. But as Peter Greene of Curmudgucation has often pointed out, there’s nothing more difficult to manage than a classroom of bored or frustrated students. Teachers who aren’t doing their best to engage the kids in front of them aren’t saving themselves from hard work; they’re making things harder on themselves.
There are times we probably could have done better. I sometimes fail to anticipate what – in retrospect – were obvious weaknesses in my planning. I’ve certainly said the wrong things, done the wrong things, and occasionally been in a completely non-helpful state of mind. So I’m certainly not suggesting we shouldn’t be self-aware enough to always be looking for ways to improve. A certain amount of suffering and frustration can be quite productive if it helps us grow.
But the idea that the entire profession is packed with slackers and people who aren’t qualified to get real jobs is nonsense. In 23 years I’ve encountered only a handful of teachers who simply aren’t any good or aren’t doing the best they can in whatever circumstances they find themselves.
FOURTH (And Most Importantly): You’re Doing Better Than You Think
“One may sows, another weeds, someone else waters… the actual reaping comes WAY later, pal.”
I’m paraphrasing a bit, but that’s totally in the Bible. It’s from the New Testament, which we don’t really use anymore, but still…
We rarely see the long-term impact of our efforts in this business. Occasionally you’ll have a kid write something thoughtful in a card or say something at that sticks with you. From time to time, they’ll come back and visit or reach out on social media.
Grab on to those moments and remember them. Document them if it helps. Recognize, though, that every child who does this represents another thousand or so who don’t.
It’s not that they weren’t impacted; they just don’t think about it. They may not consciously recognize the role you played in building their little lives or how much easier you made the remainder of their academic journey. Or, they may simply not be the type to make an issue of it if they do.
It doesn’t matter. You don’t need it to do your thing. What you DO need is to realize that the lack of immediate results doesn’t condemn your efforts or your methodology. Not everything we teach shows up on state test results. Some of it doesn’t show up at all until much later. Your failure to promptly cure 140 needy children in an hour a day for 180 days doesn’t mean you suck as an educator or a person.
What it suggests to me, at least, is that you’re kicking some serious ass – the way you keep showing up and trying to find new approaches and loving them even when they make it so hard. I’m amazed at how you jump through the hoops the powers-that-be keep throwing your way while still trying to hold on to what’s really important, whatever that looks like in your world.
I don’t even mind some of the self-doubt and desperation to be better, to do more, to somehow make it all work. It may not be entirely healthy, but if it drives you forward and keeps you introspective – and that’s something.
But I ask you to go into this new year without carrying so much guilt, so much manufactured failure, and so much self-doubt. See yourself as I see you, as do many others whether they tell you or not. You are a miracle worker, even if the miracles aren’t quick or clear. You are a stubborn, talented, creative, committed, pedagogical mother—
Well, you get the idea.
Don’t quit. Keep sowing, weeding, and watering. You’re going to have some big wins in 2020, and it would be a shame to miss them.
NOTE: I’ve finally completed “Have To” History: Landmark Supreme Court Cases (or at least the initial draft). At the moment, it’s available on Teachers Pay Teachers and intended to be an easily affordable resource for pretty much any American History or Government teacher of whatever level – from 8th Grade Civics to APUSH. I’m not looking to make serious money or anything, but it took a long time to write and edit, so until I have time to pursue other avenues, there it is.
In the meantime, it’s on to the resource book I’ve wanted to put together for a much longer time – Supreme Court cases related to religion in the public square, particularly in relation to public schools. I find the topic fascinating and the cases and their written opinions far more engaging than pretty much anything else in the annals of jurisprudence. I realize this makes me both weird and slightly pathetic, but so be it. This post is the first chapter of this new undertaking. If you’d like to read more, go buy the first one so I can afford to order pizza and keep working on it.
“Have To” History: Stuff You Don’t Really Want To Know (But For Some Reason Have To) About The “Wall of Separation”
Three Big Things:
1. The First Amendment to the U.S. Constitution contains six specific protections, two of which are related to religion. The “Establishment” Clause says government cannot support one religion over another or promote the idea of religion over non-religion; the “Free Exercise Clause” says government cannot target or hinder a specific religion or religion in general.
2. The phrase “a wall of separation between Church & State” comes from a letter by President Jefferson to the Danbury Baptists; while not part of the Constitution, it’s been cited so often by various Supreme Court decisions that it might as well be.
3. The 14th Amendment, passed shortly after the Civil War, requires states to recognize most of the same rights guaranteed on the federal level by other amendments – or at least that’s how it’s come to be understood. The application of principles found in the Bill of Rights to state or local government via the 14th Amendment is known in legal circles as “incorporation.”
Background: A Bill of Rights
The U.S. Constitution was written as a replacement for the Articles of Confederation – the new nation’s first effort at writing a broad set of laws by which to govern itself. The Articles had guaranteed the States almost complete sovereignty and absolute independence from one another – a great idea in theory, but not as workable in practice.
It was understandable that the Framers would err on the side of freedom, having finally won an extended and bitter war with the Motherland over a King they’d claimed was a “tyrant.” There were over two dozen specific examples of his excessive rule-making and liberty-crushing behavior included in the break-up letter penned by the Colonies – a missive better known as the “Declaration of Independence.”
But they had, perhaps, swung a bit too far away from structure and security. The Constitution was an effort to rectify the resulting difficulties. Turns out that sometimes, thoughtful limits actually grease the gears of liberty.
When the U.S. Constitution was finally ready for public review and debate in the late 1780’s, there were many who thought we’d once again overcompensated – this time back towards too much central authority and too little freedom. They wanted some sort of written guarantee they wouldn’t be oppressed by this bigger, stronger government.
The authors were appalled at this concern. Obviously, any powers not specifically granted to the national government by this document remained with the States and the People thereof! To spell out those protections would be… redundant! Possibly even limiting! What if listing some specifically guaranteed rights implied that they were the only ones thus secured?!
It almost got ugly.
Nevertheless, a compromise was reached. The Constitution was ratified, and a collection of ten clarifying Amendments almost immediately passed as a package deal. Thus, the “Bill of Rights.” Despite the numbering system, there are far more than ten rights included. Some Amendments, like the Fourth, Fifth, and Sixth, are packed with due process and thick verbiage. Others, like the Eighth, are fairly crisp – although written in such a way as to allow at least 225 years of subsequent debate as to exactly what they mean.
The Third is all but irrelevant. The Seventh, strangely technical. The Second – well, the Second was badly written from the moment it was passed. Whatever it did or didn’t intend to say about the right to “bear arms,” James Madison’s English teacher must have had a fit.
But the best-known is probably the First.
The First Amendment
The First Amendment contains six specific protections, somewhat related, and presumably so very important that they all tied for first when the Framers were debating what to guarantee the mostiest mostest:
Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.
These are the biggies that squeezed in ahead of militias and quartering of soldiers, and even beat out due process in order of presentation. The right to protest. The right to associate with whomever you wish, including but certainly not limited to political organizations of any and all stripes. Freedom of the press and of speech – absolute linchpins to any nation hoping to maintain the slightest credibility as a true democracy.
But coming ahead of all of them – earning the first two slots in all of Amendment-dom – are the twin ‘freedom of religion’ clauses.
Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion…
In the most basic terms, this says the government may not do anything to promote or encourage a particular religion or the concept of religion in general. Doing so creates a double curse. It leads to the marginalization and eventual persecution of those with different beliefs (whether that difference is major or minor), AND it soils the very faith the government is promoting by making it a tool of secular authority, regulated by political maneuvering and flawed men rather than one’s own spiritual journey.
A faith mandated by the guys with guns and the keys to the jail is, of course, no faith at all.
Or prohibiting the free exercise thereof…
This is the part which says that the government may not do anything to discourage, limit, or punish a particular religion or the concept of religion in general. Hopefully the problems with that sort of behavior are self-evident.
The President and Some Baptists
As to the phrase “wall of separation between church and state,” we have Jefferson to either thank (or blame, depending on your point of view). Well, him and the Baptists.
In 1801, while Jefferson was President, he received a letter from the Danbury Baptists Association in Danbury, Connecticut. They had some concerns about religious freedom and what they saw as inadequate delineation between the secular and the spiritual:
Our sentiments are uniformly on the side of religious liberty: that Religion is at all times and places a matter between God and individuals, that no man ought to suffer in name, person, or effects on account of his religious opinions, {and} that the legitimate power of civil government extends no further than to punish the man who works ill to his neighbor.
These Danbury Baptists were asserting that faith is between the individual and his God, while the government is simply supposed to keep us from killing one another or taking each other’s stuff. That’s it – no getting involved in issues best left to the pulpit or the prayer closet. They were frustrated at what they perceived as local governmental practices, indirectly promoting on sect over another, and a growing tendency for those seeking power to fling accusations of godlessness at opponents who refused to use their secular authority to do the same.
Way back in the day, that is.
That is, however, the logical and historical result when you have a religious population and a government of-the-by-the-for-the people. It’s natural to want government to step in and take “your side.” It’s the flip-side of religious freedom – where two or more or gathered, they’ll immediately begin arguing about the finer points of hermeneutics. Unless a government makes substantial and ongoing efforts to avoid such entanglements, those arguments naturally spill over into the secular realm.
It was Jefferson’s reply which gave expression to what has become the most common understanding of the First Amendment’s guarantees regarding matters of faith:
Believing with you that religion is a matter which lies solely between Man & his God, that he owes account to none other for his faith or his worship, that the legitimate powers of government reach actions only, & not opinions, I contemplate with sovereign reverence that act of the whole American people which declared that their legislature should “make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof,” thus building a wall of separation between Church & State.
There it is.
By itself, it’s just a phrase in a letter. But it’s a phrase in a letter which has been repeatedly referenced and validated in Supreme Court decisions and has become an entrenched and widely accepted interpretation of First Amendment protections through case law and sheer longevity. In other words, it’s as close to belonging in the actual text of the Constitution as something can be without actually being in the text. Then again, it didn’t really matter very much for the next hundred years.
The 14th Amendment and “Incorporation”
Prior to the 14th Amendment, the protections offered by the Bill of Rights applied exclusively to the Federal Government. While most States had similar protections in their own constitutions, these were inconsistent and locally interpreted. The 14th Amendment changed all of that in ways neither immediate nor obvious. Passed in 1868 as part of the ‘Reconstruction Amendments,’ its initial intent was to guarantee full and equal citizenship for Freedmen – newly freed Black Americans.
It reads, in part:
No State shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States; nor shall any State deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws.
It was the first time that the States had been specifically targeted this way. It chipped away substantially at the wall separating State and Federal power – with central authority clearly coming out ahead. Still, several generations passed before the Supreme Court began regularly interpreting the Fourteenth Amendment as a means of “incorporation” – applying the Bill of Rights to the States by way of that part about “equal protection.”
In 1947, this gradual “incorporation” finally crossed into the realm of public schooling. Well… sort of. It made it as far as the bus. The case was , and it began a long and winding path of jurisprudence shaping the relationship between religion and public schools.
Spoiler alert: not everyone would be happy with the results.