Blue Serials & News (June 2017)

Oh, DarlingOh, darlings – how quickly things get away from us and tumble into perdition as we scramble to hold our own up the rockslide. I apologize if I’ve left you in despair while I’ve been regrouping and refocusing and preparing to physically relocate. It’s been a journey, hasn’t it?

Let’s look at some recent education news.

Oh My Pod, Are You Somnolent?

I guess if I’m that tired, I could enroll as a student in Las Cruces High School (NM). They’ve installed “sleeping pods” for students who don’t get in their 8-10 hours at home. They’re wrapped in darkness and soft music for 20 minutes at a time, and it’s apparently considered quite a success by the locals. I get it, but you know how this looks, right?

Sleeping Pods

Life must be good in Las Cruces. They were recently ranked in the top 25 cities anywhere in the U.S. for teachers, and have the single highest pay scale when compared to the community around them of any city on the list – 237% of local average. No other city broke 200%.

Can I Bring Batteries For Extra Credit?

tCDSAs long as students are hooked up to a $14,000 high-tech pod, why not add a little tDCS (transcranial direct current stimulation)? A couple of, um… neurotransmitters targeting the part of the brain you wish to stimulate, and ZAP – learning ability enhanced! You can even buy inexpensive home-made versions online.

What could go wrong?

Stop Teaching Them To Protest Stuff!

A New Jersey high school senior, Tori DiPaolo, slipped in a final statement about her school’s dress code and what I presume she would consider a shame’n’blame approach by administration. I’d tell you what she wrote for her “senior quote” in the school yearbook but I can’t seem to focus on it long enough to remember. In any case, the photo speaks for itself:

Shoulders

Meanwhile, across the waters, a group of British schoolboys confronted by a particularly brutal stretch of uncomfortably hot weather were told they must follow school dress code and wear full-length trousers – no shorts! Apparently one school official did crack wise that they could wear a skirt, if they preferred, so… they did.

British Skirts

While it doesn’t seem to have been intended as a blow for sexual equality or anything, it’s still a rather bold move. And several of them are pulling off the look particularly well, so that could lead anywhere. To the school’s credit, there was only one report of disciplinary action resulting from the protest; one young man’s skirt was too short.

Creative Solutions

An online Romanian dictionary noticed that certain word searches were spiking during the two-hour window in which state exams were given. Suspecting that students were cheating, they changed the definitions of several of the high-traffic words until the window had closed.

There’s no word on how many students were thwarted as a result.

Flat ScreenMuch closer to home, unfortunately, a Wisconsin college student was caught trying to sneak three flat-screen televisions out of Wal-Mart – which already leaves you wondering what she thought the best-case scenario for that might play out.  Turns out she had tons of other stolen crap in her dorm room, but it was OK – or so she insisted – because she was just doing research for a paper on kleptomania.

She might want to pick a better topic, like how to fib more convincingly. Turns out the semester had only started that day and the only class she was enrolled in was introduction to biology.

History Post of the Week (Victorians Dug Gingers)

GingerThere are a number of fascinating history blogs out there, and most don’t get the attention they deserve. Mimi Matthews is one of the best. Her research is impeccable and her style everything you could ask in a legit blog not aimed at academics or weirdos.

“A Passion for Auburn Hair: Victorian Views On Reddish-Brown Tresses” briefly examines the allure of red hair across the 19th century. Lots of pictures, a few primary source excerpts, and just enough creepy to keep even you non-history types engaged. Enjoy it, then forward it to your favorite redhead or botched dye job.

Serious Grown-Up Education Talk

An Adultier Adult

There are several posts you should probably not overlook this week, despite many of us trying to maintain mirth and utter denial as best we can over the summer break. Grab a cold non-alcoholic drink and put on your big-teacher panties for a bit.

Supremes Break Down Church State Wall – Peter Greene, Curmudgucation

The U.S. Supreme Court has issued its decision in Trinity Lutheran v. Comer, and it looks like its quickly becoming OK for public tax dollars to be used to support private religious activities – including, presumably, vouchers of the most unrestrained sorts.

With this decision, the wall between church and state is pretty well shot, and there is nothing to stand in the way of, say, a federally-financed multi-billion dollar program that would funnel money to private religious schools. Trump and DeVos could not have a brighter green light for their voucher program.

I’ll argue, as always, that churches will rue the day the wall is taken down. The separation of church and state doesn’t just protect the state– it protects the church, too. When you mix religion and politics, you get politics. And where federal money goes, federal strings follow.

Some Unpopular Thoughts On Teacher Evaluation – Mitchell Robinson, MitchellRobinson.net

Here’s the truth–it’s a colossal waste of time to keep pouring good money after bad in this attempt. Why?

Not because there are zero weak teachers–there are some, though as most will acknowledge, a surprisingly small number.

Because bad teachers self-select, and weed themselves out of the classroom well before any evaluation system “catches” them. Why?

Because the job is too hard to do it without finding any level of satisfaction or fulfillment–and the money isn’t good enough to keep them in the classroom, unlike other jobs where people report low satisfaction, but remain in the job for the financial rewards.

It’s all that good, and more importantly, it’s all that true. An ongoing mic drop of stuff that should be obvious but no one seems to understand outside of those doing the teaching.

Whatever Is Worse – Doug Robertson, He’s The Weird Teacher

The most dangerous phrase in education, in anything, is, “Whatever.” I can work with someone who says, “This is the way we’ve always done it.” There’s a root there that’s easy to see.

But a shrug? Shrugs are harder to work with. There’s a lot of root causes of “whatever,” and they get gnarled and deep. Apathy is a killer. Does it come from being beat down by bad teammate, bad admin, bad state leadership, frustration with an incompetent Education Secretary, one of those classes?

Apathy takes a long time to get to. An apathetic response means not only does the person not burn with desire, their pilot light has gone out.

Read Robertson’s blog, and buy his books – seriously. They’re literally the best things I’ve ever read with his name on the cover.

I know that’s a lot to ponder in one post, but I’ve been away for a while and things build up. I don’t expect it will be quite that long until next time. You are amazing, my #11FF – don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

I leave you with this, a new favorite of mine from some local boys done good:

Making Good Choices (A Post For My Students)

Wise Old Man

Let’s talk about choices, shall we?

Teachers love framing everything in terms of “making good choices” and “that’s your choice.” Why do you have a ‘D’? Well, you chose not to turn in work. Why are you in lunch detention? You made some poor choices about your behavior in class.

We even tell students that they can do anything they set their mind to – be anything they wish to be – if they set their mind on it and refuse to give up. That, of course, is a really big, extended expression of choice.

If we’re being completely honest, we sometimes overdo it. When our rhetoric ignores your reality, we breed cynicism, not inspiration. That’s why I wanted to touch base with you today, if you don’t mind, and talk plainly about making good choices. And I’ll try to keep it brief.

I may not be perfect, dear child, but I am old and wise. Well, somewhat old – but ridiculously wise. The best wise. You won’t believe my wiseness. It’s the wisest. 

And while I may not always be right, I believe in being as honest as I know how to be with people. And, as a teenager, you’re almost “people.” Close enough, anyway.

So here’s the skinny:

There are no guarantees.

You might make all the best choices and everything goes to crap repeatedly no matter what you do. Conversely, you’re going to encounter people who do every stupid thing possible and never take any responsibility for their lives, and everything just keeps coming up unicorns and rainbows for them. It’s not a mathematical formula or a carefully structured science lab – it’s life, and life is messy and unpredictable.

Clones CBut here’s what I can promise you – if you make “good choices” often enough, you will dramatically improve your odds. All that stuff we say so often you’re sick of it? Stay in school, work hard, don’t do drugs, don’t get pregnant, choose the right friends, don’t be a jerk to people – all of that matters more than you’d think. There are no guarantees, but if there were a hundred of you – exact clones – all trying different approaches, the ones who made the most “good choices” and “worked the hardest” would easily outshine those who simply coasted, and blow away those who chose the truly stupid things – especially if they did them over and over.

But there aren’t a hundred of you, unfortunately, so all you can do is play the probabilities.

You already know that school can be stupid. It’s not meant to be; most of your teachers really did sign up because they love the subject they teach and they want to share that passion and help kids be successful and all that. We genuinely hope, every year, that you’ll find something engaging or challenging or meaningful in the stuff we make you do – we really do.

But it’s an imperfect system, and we’re imperfect people, and in the end, your entire year – academically, behaviorally, emotionally, logically, or sometimes randomly, comes down to a set of numbers between 1-100 and letters between A-F, skipping ‘E’ because THAT doesn’t mean anything, whereas ‘B’ apparently conveys a WEALTH of information about you as a student and as a person.

I understand your cynicism in this case. But guess what those numbers and letters give you, if you choose to do what you can to keep them high? They give you more choices. You want to stay in town and do junior college? That’s great – when it’s your choice. You want to take a year off and work before deciding? OK – if that’s by choice. Good numbers and letters increase your choices – more colleges, more professions, more scholarships, more activities – and while “making good choices” can feel like a real burden sometimes, “having lots of choices” is much better than not. 

So yeah – I’m going to push you to think a bit more, and to stay organized, and to behave. I’m going to beg you to stay in school, stay off drugs, keep your pants zipped and don’t experiment with anything harder than Double Stuff Oreos once in a while. So you’ll increase your options when it matters most.

Oreos

Now, here’s the part we really try to avoid talking about, especially when we’re trying to maintain our Idealism Zone…

All those good choices and hard work might not work the same for everyone. I am convinced to the core of my being that they increase your odds, no matter who you are, but I can’t promise they increase everyone’s odds equally, or even in the same way.

If you’re a girl, there will likely be extra challenges to get where you want to go, depending of course on exactly where that is. Things are by most measures SO much better than they were a half-century ago, but being a female-type still carries its own challenges – often when you least expect them, honey-bunch.

I believe you can find a way to up your odds nonetheless.

If you’re Black, or Hispanic, or Muslim, or Gay, or anything outside of straight, white, tall, and pretty, the system might not cooperate for you as easily as it does Captain White Bread and his trusty sidekick Mayo. You may find you’re making GREAT choices and working MUCH harder than many around you, but the odds seem to actively push back against you rather than reward you.

I want you to know we’re fighting for you – advocating, explaining, sometimes just yelling in incoherent outrage, but always fighting. And I encourage you to speak out in whatever way you find meaningful; I am NOT telling you to just “suck it up” and work a little bit harder.

What I am suggesting is that on the micro level – the most immediate, you-and-things-directly-in-your-control reality – the same basic truth applies. You will increase your odds with smart choices and hard work and reduce them with bad decisions or apathy. I’m not arguing that it’s fair – just talking about choices. I mean, it’s in the title, so let’s not act all shocked, K?

One last thing. And it’s potentially uncomfortable.

You may have had some awful things happen to you before now. Some of them may be ongoing – a bad situation at home, illness or accidents, could be anything. I want you to know with GREAT conviction that those things are not on you. Those things aren’t about your choices – good, bad, or otherwise. Period.

Broken PeopleWhen you’re 7 or 10 or even 14, we don’t let you vote or drive or decide what you’ll eat or drink BECAUSE you’re not considered emotionally, mentally, or legally responsible enough to make such choices. I don’t say that to be demeaning; I say it because it’s not on you that your parents got a divorce, or that your dad is so angry all the time, or that you’re living in your car. It’s not on you that you were abused or neglected or born with something “wrong” with you.

You’re just now getting the “choices” speech because you’re just now entering a time in your life that you’re kinda starting to become responsible for some of decisions you make, and the paths you choose to follow. That other stuff might make everything harder, and some of it may even require some tough choices from you down the road, but they’re from other people’s choices. What they chose impacts you; what you choose will impact others. Again – not about “fair,” it’s just how things work.

Maybe you’ve already made some pretty bad choices – stuff that is on you. The guy who shared too much with. The pictures you took. The drugs you tried. The classes you flunked. The teacher you threatened. Yeah, that stuff is a problem. It can impact your odds and may limit your current and future choices.

But you’ll notice how rarely, even in teacher rhetoric, we talk about making one, solitary, big CHOICE. This post isn’t called “Make A Good Choice.” Your grades, your disciplinary record, your relationships – they’re almost never the result of a single poor decision, or a single great one. The thing about choices is that they have to be made every day, over and over.

Choices ChoicesThat sort of sucks because it means that for the rest of your life going to be faced with decisions about how you use your time, where you apply your resources, and how you shape your odds. On the other hand, it means that every day – heck, every hour – is a chance to make different choices. Better choices.

Don’t get too Disney about that last part. The choices you made yesterday and last week are forever set in time. There’s no such thing as a completely “fresh start.” There are consequences, good and bad, short-term and long.

Or maybe not. There are no guarantees (as I believe we’ve already covered), just ways to change your odds. Ways to impact how many choices will be available to you down the road a bit.

So make the best ones you can. Work at them; be stubborn when you’re on the right path. You can still enjoy life along the way – we want you to be happy and successful; you’re not being bred for the throne in time of war. And know that if I didn’t find you already pretty amazing – so rich in natural gifts, walking them out with such style – we wouldn’t even be having this conversation. With great power, dear, comes great responsibility.

Make good choices, please. I’m rooting for you.

RELATED POST: Ten Truths For The Overwhelmed Student

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Rabbit Trails: Criminal Intimacy & Pernicious Polygamy

Welch's Fruit SnacksI’ve been trying to follow up on a previous post about the “divorce industry” in Oklahoma Territory (1889 – 1907), but I keep getting sidetracked by odd search results and unexpectedly engaging-but-off-topic tangents. I’m finally admitting that my ADHD (Abstemiously Distracted History Dysfunction) has won, and figure I might as well share some of the results.

KANSAS CITY, Mo., Oct. 24.—Last June Judge Field, of the circuit court, granted a divorce to Ira Welch from his wife Ida on the ground of infidelity. Mrs. Welch had not received notice of the suit and the only evidence introduced was the affidavits of Welch and others. Mrs. Welch now brings suit to have the divorce set aside on the ground that she did not receive notice and that publication was not properly made.

OK, so first off – Ira and Ida Welch? How adorable is that!

It sounds like a fairly typical midwestern divorce case so far. It’s not clear how Mr. Welch ended up in Kansas City, but clearly Mrs. Welch hadn’t come with him. While the Midwest was known for its generally lax divorce laws during this period, I’m not aware of Kansas City being particularly notorious in that regard. Whatever the reason, after legal requirements had been met – probably the posting of newspaper notices giving Mrs. Welch a window of time in which to show up and make her case – the court had granted Mr. Welch a divorce.

Now the ex has found out and shown up. She’s in “not so fast, buster” mode – understandable, if inconvenient for Mr. Welch. But this one’s about to get weird, even for a contested midwestern divorce.

She admits criminal intimacy with T.R. Burch, general western manager of the Phoenix insurance company with whom she lived for two years at the Palmer house in Chicago.

“Criminal intimacy” presumably refers to adultery, although it’s certainly a far more colorful term. And it’s not like they just got drunk at an office party and had a moment of passion on the couch – she lived with him for two years! That certainly suggests things with Mr. Welch weren’t going well. What to do, what to do?

She admits also that she purchased a foundling after the Eva Hamilton method and attempted to palm it off on Burch as their child for the purpose of black mail and the attempt failed.

Orphan AnnieA “foundling” was an unattached child – an orphan, or possibly a kidnapped baby or a child sold off for whatever reason. Apparently you could pick up a kid or three for next-to-nothing in those years. As to the “Eva Hamilton” reference, Hamilton was part of a wild, dysfunctional tale of sex, lies, and stabbing the nanny which unfolded in the press only months before. She, too, had tried the “but I gave birth to your child!” angle using faux offspring she’d only recently purchased, and was at the time of this report sitting in prison ostensibly for murder, but more honestly for being a bit of a ho.

Back to the tawdry Mrs. Welch:

She also admits criminal intimacy with Isaac Warrell, a capitalist of Chicago and several other prominent Chicago men.

Well sure – why not at that point?

So how, exactly, did she explain her opposition to this divorce?

She alleges, however, that her husband had full knowledge of her intimacy with all these men and that her immoralities were practiced with his consent, he receiving the greater part of the money that she extorted from her gentlemen acquaintances.

The case goes to trial tomorrow.

“Another Eva Hamilton” (Oklahoma City Daily Times, October 25, 1889)

Oh, well then – if her husband knew and approved, that’s a great reason to stay together.

Mr. Welch was granted his divorce.

As I returned to searching for “divorce mill” anecdotes, this story popped up:

TOLAGA, Oklahoma, Sept. 22.—Yellow Bonnet, a Cheyenne Indian, has applied for a blanket divorce from his four wives. It is the first time that an Indian has applied for a divorce in Oklahoma. Yellow Bonnett recently embraced the Christian religion, but his wives refused to become Christians.

The New York Times (September 23, 1895)

Cheyenne WarriorMy first inclination was to question the term “blanket” divorce, given the slang and mindset towards Amerindians at the time. Pretty sure I was reading too much into the term, however.

Still, I couldn’t help but follow up. Apparently his wives had reached some sort of agreement amongst themselves that he had to divorce all or none of them. The fear was that if he divorced them individually, he’d get down to one last wife and decide to keep her, thus leaving the others cut off.

So they locked arms and insisted on all or nothing. Good for them.

And… “Yellow Bonnet”? Really?

Next result…

OKLAHOMA DIVORCE TANGLE
Mrs. Harris Sues Mason After He Is Reconciled with His Wife.

GUTHRIE, Oklahoma, Dec. 3.—A very sensational case closed in the Probate Court at Newkirk to-day. Some time ago George M. Mason, a jeweler well known in several Colorado cities, came ot Oklahoma City from Denver to try to get a divorce.

Ah, that’s more like it. This is Oklahoma’s “Divorce Industry” in action!

Soon after his arrival he began to lavish attention on Mrs. Anna Harris, a dashing widow, boarding house keeper. Recently Mrs. Mason arrived from Colorado, effected a reconciliation, and the couple prepared to start for the Centennial State.

See, Colorado joined the Union in 1876, the nation’s centennial. What made this timing particularly interesting was—

Actually, never mind. BECAUSE I’M FOCUSED NOW.

The widow first attempted suicide.

Whoah, there – suicide? Not to downplay her suffering, but that’s the go-to response when your man-toy reconciles with his old lady? I mean, yell, sure. Curse, throw stuff at him – but suicide?

The doctors pumped out her stomach, and she had Mason arrested for stealing $150. She claimed to have left it with him for safe keeping.

Did he have the audacity to even come and step to her and ask to hold some money from her until he got his check next week?

That trifling, good-for-nothing type of brother. Silly widow – why didn’t she find another?

The evidence developed that she had received the money from a well-known merchant, and had given it to Mason with the understanding that in return he was to pay attention to her alone. The Judge discharged the prisoner, declaring there had been no theft, simply a breach of contract.

That’s hilarious. By which I mean sad. If we use sad to mean seriously messed up.

Here’s a tip for all you young ladies (or middle-aged widows) out there – if you have to pay him not to run around on you, the relationship is not going well.

One last try. Surely I’m due for something useful and on-topic…

Citrus J. O’Donnell… comes into the court to ask for some sort of relief. Citrus himself seems to have rather hazy notions of the sort of relief he wants, but he thinks he is entitled to something of the sort. He says he does not want a divorce, but he thinks the court ought to look after his wife a little.

Ichabod CraneOK, I have to admit this caught my attention.

And… “Citrus”? My apologies to “Yellow Bonnet.”

He explains that he married Mrs. O’Donnell three years ago and that since then she from time to time has married other men, five in all. Citrus asserts that he has labored with his polygamous spouse and has earnestly sought to wean her from her pernicious theories of wholesale partnership, but all in vain.

After several months of marital tranquility and happiness with Citrus, Mrs. O’Donnell has been accustomed to steal away quietly, swoop down on some neighboring city and gobble up another husband. A few months later she returns, dangling another scalp from her belt and with another marriage certificate added to her souvenier collection.

We’re, um… we’re going to assume those “scalps” are metaphorical. Otherwise we have a very different legal situation here.

Citrus… doesn’t want a divorce; he wants his wife. And he comes into court to ask the law to do something for him. It strikes us that in equity Citrus is entitled to some sort of relief. If he cannot do better perhaps he might find relief in praying earnestly for brains.

The Guthrie Leader (February 26, 1895)

*pause*

That does it. I’m going to need to try some better search terms.

Rabbit Trails: Mary Sallade & The One-Eyed Pickpocket

George AppoI’ve been looking into the “divorce industry” in Oklahoma Territory (1889 – 1907). I’ve posted once on the topic, and I’m a bit overdue in following up. This particular line of inquiry evolved from my interest in author and Renaissance Woman Helen Churchill Candee, who came to Guthrie to sever her own marital bonds in 1896, and who stayed long enough to write about life there – multiple times and quite effectively.

So I spend more time than seems reasonable searching online newspaper archives for terms like “divorce” or “Oklahoma.” I’m not sure this makes me a crack researcher, but it has certainly led me down some weird paths. Not every result fits what I’m after – they’re just keyword searches, after all – but history is a twisted, taunting little minx. Pick any topic – ANY topic – and start scratching at it. Something fascinating will almost always unfold… and yet leave you with a congress of unknowns, smirking and smug like Alice’s cat.

MRS. MARY F. SALLADE IS MARRIED
Her Third Husband Harrison E. Havens of Enid, Oklahoma.

Mrs. Mary F. Sallade, who figured in court several times as the accuser of the proprietors of resorts in West Twenty-fourth Street, between Broadway and Sixth Avenue, has been married for the third time.

OK – so third time, huh? Surely that was a bit unusual for that era. And… “accuser of the proprietors of resorts…”? There’s got to be a story there, one with which the Times assumed readers were already familiar.

She is now Mrs. Harrison Eugene Havens, having been married April 3 by the Rev. Dr. Parkhurst. Enid, Oklahoma, will soon be her home. Mr. Havens, who is a lawyer, procured for her a divorce from her second husband, whose name was Sharpe.

Ah, the plot thickens! Divorce Husband No. 2 while hooking up with your lawyer. Sly little thing, wasn’t she?

Mrs. Sallade gave $500 security for the appearance in court of George Appo, to answer the charge of having stabbed policeman M.F. Rein. Appo is missing and Mrs. Sallade may lose her money.

The New York Times (April 18, 1895)

Um… what? Who is – and he stabbed – and… WTF?!

George Appo, it turns out, was a notorious pickpocket and con man, easily recognized as the half-Irish, half-Chinese guy with one eye non-surgically removed. Several months after this piece was published he was sentenced to six months in a New York penitentiary for assaulting Officer Rein.

None of which explains how or why Mary Sallade was involved. But no matter – I should get back to that Oklahoma divorce stuff. I so rarely have the time to properly—

*sigh*

OK. One quick Google search. That’s all. Then back to my original quest.

Police officer Michael Rein charged Appo with stabbing him while placing him under arrest for creating a disturbance. Under cross-examination, however, Appo’s counsel, Frank Moss, challenged the veracity of Rein’s story and the media coverage of the event.

Sensationalized media coverage distorting the facts in 1895? The more things change…

The officer testified that after the confrontation with Appo, he returned to the precinct house, undressed, and slept in the station that evening. Only the next day, he admitted, did he bother to notice the stab wound…

So it really wasn’t even a proper stabbing? That would explain the relatively short sentence.

Appo was… represented by Frank Moss, but his five-hundred dollar bond was furnished by Mary F. Sallade, a prominent figure in moral reform circles in New York and sometimes called “the female Parkhurst”… Such encouragement bolstered Appo. He insisted that “no matter what the police tried they could not again drive him into the ranks of crooks”…

Sallade was “a prominent figure in moral reform circles”? The Sallade now on Husband No. 3, who helped her dump Husband No. 2, and seems to have brought her all the way to Enid, OK?

Rev ParkhurstThere’s another reference which presumably meant something to contemporaneous readers – “the female Parkhurst.” From context, we can reasonably infer he must have been some sort of reformer, perhaps a—

Wait, “Parkhurst”? Parkhurst. Where have we heard—

The guy who married Mary to her third husband, who helped her divorce her second husband, while she was putting up bail for the ne’er-do-well who’d supposedly stabbed a cop but now it seems like maybe he really didn’t? THAT Parkhurst? He was a household name of some sort?

But I’m not Googling him. I’m just not. Too much to do! Be strong.

Dammit.

On Valentine’s Day in 1892 an obscure minister delivered a sermon that changed the fate of New York City. The jeremiad by the Rev. Dr. Charles H. Parkhurst inspired a campaign that unmasked New York’s first major police scandal, that contributed to the creation of a five-borough city and that placed Theodore Roosevelt on the road to the Presidency…

“Parkhurst proved that one just man could singlehandedly defeat a powerful and evil machine like Tammany Hall and reform an entire police department”…

“Taking on Tammany, 100 Years Ago” (Selwyn Raab – The New York Times, February 14, 1992)

*sigh*

He has his own Wikipedia entry. The Rev. Parkhurst mentioned in such casual passing as having hitched Mary Sallade to Husband No. 3 helped take down Tammany Hall, a task normally more closely associated with political cartoonist Thomas Nast, who popularized our current image of Santa Claus. I have no doubt they both connect directly to Kevin Bacon from here.

Rev. Dr. Charles Parkhurst is not to be confused, of course, with Charley Parkhurst, the cross-dressing (possibly transgendered) stagecoach driver and cowboy from a few short decades before. Born biologically female, and orphaned, she lived most of her life as a male and was best-known by the nickname “One-Eyed Charley.” Wanna guess why?

None of which helps Mary, who lost her bail money:

A week later Appo failed to appear for his trial, thus forfeiting Sallade’s bond. Appo later defended his flight as self-defense.

A Pickpocket’s Tale: The Underworld of Nineteenth-Century New York, by Timothy J. Gilfoyle (2007)

Sallade comes up a half-dozen times more in Gilfoyle’s book. She gave Appo honest employment at “the Sallade Dress Factory” and is listed as one of the few “evangelically motivated reformers” who reached out to men like Appo offering pathways to redemption, no matter how many times they fell back into a life of crime. Appo mentioned her specifically near the end of his life, giving thanks to those who’d cared.

Fascinating. And I want so badly to make some sort of “Sallade” and “Dresses/Dressing” remark, but…

I’ve got a semi-legit post to compose. Surely the next result will be more useful.

BROOKLYN DIVORCE CASE: Aged Mr. and Mrs. Meinekhein in an Oklahoma Court.

PERRY, Oklahoma, Dec. 23.—Although seventy years old, with hair (when not dyed) as white as cotton, so her husband says, Mrs. Lucinda C. Meinekhein, school-teacher, of Brooklyn, N.Y., has come to Oklahoma to fight her husband, B.G. Meinekhein, in his divorce suit, which began to-day.

Ah, here we go. He came here to get an easy divorce, and she showed up to contest it!

Wait – did that say she was SEVENTY YEARS OLD?

Menekhein was married to Lucinda in 1868, and he says she treated him very cruelly. One charge is that she doused him with cold water several times while he was in bed. Mrs. Meinekhein introduced many love letters, purporting to have been written by Meinekhein to New York City Women.

The New York Times (December 24th, 1896)

She was a teacher? What color did she dye her hair normally? And these letters… how long ago had they been—

Nope.

But “Lucinda”? And what prompted the cold water? Was it just “you’re an a-hole!” cold water or was it “take a cold shower, you lecherous old goat!” cold water? If I research such an unusual name, surely–

Nope.

Nope.

Nope.

No more distractions. I have a post on the divorce industry in Oklahoma Territory to get compose. We’ll try again next time.

 

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It’s a bit more legit, less ranting, better editing, more focus on history and pedagogy – in other words, a complete change of style for yours truly.

Blue Dot Net

But here’s the problem with moving away from ranting and accusing and calling out the fallen by name and title – people don’t circulate it for you. They don’t get all worked up and email their friends, favorite your tweets, or quote your pithy wisdom. For a time, I considered doing an entire series of Clickbait Blog Posts with completely derogatory and unfair attacks on pretty much anyone with a little name recognition in edu-bloggery:

What’s Diane Ravitch Really Up To? Common Core, or Common Whore?!

Former Students Reveal the Dark Side of Curmudgucation’s Peter Greene: “He Used… Sarcasm – With Words and Tone and Everything!” 

WHY Have We Never Seen Rick Cobb and Mary Fallin in the Same Room? (A Tale of Lost Identity and Bending Genders.)

How Trump’s Appointment of DeVos Will Finally Destroy TFA and Turn YOUR Child Gay and Muslim!

What Did Rob Miller and Claudia Swisher REALLY Say About This Year’s Legislative Session? THE TWEETS THEY DON’T WANT YOU TO SEE! 

The Dark Conspiracy Behind Unicorns and Donuts – “For The Love… of Philandering Druid Worshippers!” (NSFW!)

Angela Little: WHO Does She REALLY Work For? WHAT Really Drives Her? And HOW Does She Stay Fresh and Stylin’ As a Busy Mother of Two?! We Have The REAL Story HERE!

Is there a “Rebel Alliance” coordinating behind the scenes to shape social media about #oklaed? One staffer says HE even has the T-Shirt to prove it!

TEN Reasons Ben Felder Will Be The Next Governor of Oklahoma (You Won’t Believe #8!)

Problem is, that’s all just silly. And too much work. I’m still wading through divorce cases which made it to the Supreme Court in the 1890s – I don’t have time to make up stuff about Mindy Dennison: This Teacher STINGS! or that Whistler guy from Twitter. And it’s hard to make fun of the current Legislature because they pretty much top anything I could invent with their own daily actions and press releases. 

So I’m going to go with my strengths and do…

The first (and probably ONLY) Blue Cereal Contest of 2017!

It’s pretty straightforward. YOU push any blog post, pedagogy page, or whatever from BlueCerealEducation.net and tag me on FB or Twitter when you do. Multiple pushes go in the proverbial “hat” multiple times, so the more you love me, the more chance I’ll love you back. On Friday, June 2nd, I’ll randomly choose TWO participants from the mix and they’ll receive one of the VERY FEW remaining Blue Cereal #11FF Lunchboxes!

BCE Lunchbox FrontBCE Lunchbox Back

But that’s not all. For the first time ever, each winner will have their choice of a secondary prize as well:

Black Lives MugChoice #1: A brand new “Black Lives Matter (More Than White Feelings)” mug from Buy Noir, shipped w/ the Lunchbox.

Choice #2: I will write a post about any topic you like and do my best to make it informative and engaging and credit you with the inspiration. This can be something pedagogical, historical, political, or something personal – a biography of that one child you like better than the others although you try to hide it, a favorite disease, or an extended puff piece on your restaurant or latest boy toy. It will be posted and pushed like any Blue Cereal post.

Choice #3: I’ll send you a copy of one of my favorite teacher books (no, I won’t tell you in advance) as well as one of my favorite non-teacher books. You’ll read them, we’ll talk abou them like intellectuals, and for the rest of our lives we’ll have an inside thing, you and me, making us just a little bit superior to everyone around us in terms of BFF-ness. 

Choice #4: Drinks w/ Blue (this one is for winners in Oklahoma only, I’m afraid). At some point before schools starts again, I’ll come to your town, we’ll drink (alcohol, coffee, sodie-pops – your call), talk, laugh, cry, hug, and take pics before we part (no nudes unless you REALLY promote the heck out of the new site). Hopefully you’re not, like, totally creepy or anything – and I, of course, am adorable. {Note: Yes, I hope to move before school starts, but due to my conference commitments, Tulsa will likely remain “home base” for most of the summer either way.}

This is a ONE WEEK ONLY, one-time contest. And it starts NOW.

Come on – you know you want to. Go with it. It feels good