In Defense of the 5-Paragraph Essay

May 21, 2015June 4, 2023 ~ Blue Cereal ~ 4 Comments

Although it is an imperfect beast and its overuse can be limiting, or even harmful, the “5-Paragraph Essay” should not be so unfairly maligned. It provides useful scaffolding for students learning to support logical arguments rather than ramble about their impressions and feelings, promotes clarity and focus for students as they attempt to formulate and support those arguments, and offers the security of structure and a type of ‘safety net’ for young writers not always certain how to best proceed.

Like any set of ‘tools’ or ‘guides’ we provide young learners, the “5-Paragraph Essay” can provide essential structure for students learning how to make and support historical, scientific, or other academic arguments. Children are often given coloring books in order to facilitate artistic expression, or encouraged to play sports in which the field is outlined in chalk or painted lines and coaches from both teams move among the players guiding or correcting them until they’re able to do without such structures. Even as an adult, I’m far more likely to make brownies or muffins from a box with clear directions and limits than to take my chances with a bowl, some ingredients, and a dream. It does not limit a musician to begin by learning scales or how to form standard chords – it gives them a foundation on which to build while they become more skilled. Structure is not by itself good or evil; it’s only when we confuse ‘tools’ with ‘unbreakable rules’ that we limit students rather than guide them.

That same structure helps to provide clarity and focus as students learn to distinguish between expressing themselves and making a logical argument. David Coleman, the primary author of Common Core and current Czar of the College Board, took some heat a few years ago after saying “people don’t really give a $#!+ about what you feel… can you make an argument with evidence{?}”** As horrifying as this was to the warm and fuzzy among us, his point was valid enough regarding the importance of being able to say something useful, clearly and concisely, and back it up with facts and reason. It’s a lost skill in our culture, rarely even attempted by our social and political leaders. I know few pilots or surgeons who complain about having to run through checklists before taking off or cutting in; the process prevents careless errors and helps focus attention. While the graphic organizers and other supporting requirements I use to help students build a “5-Paragraph Essay” can’t guarantee clarity or logical thinking, they go a long way towards revealing fuzzy thinking or spotlighting disjointed bits of unconnected information. Unsupervised play and avant-garde musical choices have their place, but such open-endedness can prove crippling to the long-term success of those never ‘limited’ by rules or musical orthodoxy.

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The role of structure in providing security and freedom was brought home to me clearly and eternally by ‘Melissa’, a high school sophomore in my first year teaching. After exhausting all three or four teaching techniques I knew, I assigned a chapter for students to read and then ‘do a project over’. When they asked what sort of project, I responded they could choose anything they thought would help demonstrate that they understood. They were in 10th grade, I reasoned – they knew what sort of projects they liked by this point. After several moments of confused murmuring and dazed expressions, Melissa raised her hand and politely but indignantly informed me that, “Mr. K! Sometimes fences set us free!” I’ve learned to appreciate the default settings of some of the video games I play, or the way the word processor on which I’m typing this automatically selects certain orientations, fonts, margins, and other settings unless I tell it to change them. I don’t feel limited, I feel supported. High school students are a scattered, confused, drifty and easily terrified bunch any time they’re asked to think or branch out, and structure can provide safety in that venture. As long as there’s always a clear distinction between ‘defaults’ (which can be altered when circumstances change) and ‘rules’ (which apply for all time in all circumstances), fences do indeed set them free. [[{“type”:”media”,”view_mode”:”media_small”,”fid”:”988″,”attributes”:{“alt”:””,”class”:”media-image”,”typeof”:”foaf:Image”}}]]

So while there are many good arguments against my complex thesis, whether the ‘Although’ makes you cringe or you’d rather I’d been more general or more specific, used fewer sentences or more, it’s a workable thesis which can be easily emulated in many – but never all – different situations. If you don’t like my structure, I’d encourage you to create another in its place rather than dismiss the idea altogether. The “5-Paragraph Essay” is certainly not the final goal of writing or reason, and it’s certainly not the ideal tool for personal expression, but neither should it be the whipping post of Academia, condemned to languish alongside Wikipedia and Direct Instruction as a shameful relic of some dark, inbred time we’d rather forget.

**A slightly fuller version of the Colman quote is below, in case this is new to you. Don’t tell anyone, but my first reaction when I read this was to laugh. I don’t know that I’d make this into all-encompassing edu-policy, but he made a hard point humorously. How can I argue with that?

Do you know the two most popular forms of writing in the American high school today? …It is either the exposition of a personal opinion or the presentation of a personal matter. The only problem, forgive me for saying this so bluntly, the only problem with these two forms of writing is as you grow up in this world you realize people don’t really give a $#!+ about what you feel or think. What they instead care about is can you make an argument with evidence, is there something verifiable behind what you’re saying or what you think or feel that you can demonstrate to me. It is a rare working environment that someone says, “Johnson, I need a market analysis by Friday but before that I need a compelling account of your childhood.”

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Teach Like You

May 19, 2015June 4, 2023 ~ Blue Cereal ~ 3 Comments

I’m a fairly narcissistic fellow. I don’t mean to be, it’s just that I’m vain and self-absorbed. At least I have the skills, style, and cojones to make it work for me. I make no apologies; every rose has it’s – oh, are you still here? I hadn’t noticed.

There’ve been a slew of books and workshops in recent years promising to help you teach like a pirate, like a rockstar, like a hero… I received something rather spammy recently promising to help me become a more exciting presenter and unlock a fabulous career leading teacher workshops. Just call Robert in Wisconsin at ###-###-####!

I’m not knocking any of these books or workshops. I haven’t read or attended any of them, but I see happy teachers carrying on about them on Twitter and such… they sound great.

Except the one with Robert in Wisconsin. WTF, Bob?

It’s just that I don’t want to be a pirate, or a rockstar, or a hero. I want my kids to learn a little history, ask some better questions, and maybe learn to like reading a little. And I want to do it as… me.

I’m pretty entertaining, and I have a degree. That should buy me some leeway, yes?

Of course, you don’t need to buy books or go to conferences to hear how you should be doing everything differently. There are no shortage of researchers scolding us for forcing our kids to recite from their McGuffey’s Readers and practice multiplication tables on their chalk slates, or whatever it is they think we do.

Seriously, if I read one more heavily-footnoted interview with yet another person who’s discovered that worksheets have limited effectiveness and some people are boring when they lecture, I may become violent. Can we steer some of the funding for these redundant studies into something more useful – maybe fresh blue ink for the mimeograph machine or another History Channel Documentary on VHS?

They’re not all bad, of course. Many make some fascinating observations and connections. They challenge us to reconsider some of our assumptions about kids and how they learn, or ourselves and how we teach.

I’m a huge fan of rethinking what we do in our classrooms. I make a decent living leading workshops and peddling my teaching philosophy, sometimes for edu-entities and sometimes just as lil’ ol’ me. We should ABSOLUTELY step out of our comfort zones from time to time. It’s unforgiveable to plan our class time around what we have saved from LAST year rather than what might work best with THESE kids THIS year.

And there are some GREAT teacher books! That ‘Weird Teacher’ one has me so challenged and encouraged and validated all at the same time that there were actual tears at one point. Occasionally I’m even inspired by something shared by state edu-staff, or my own district superiors. Turns out there are a bunch of really smart, experienced educators around who love helping the rest of us impact our evasive darlings.

Sometimes their ideas are better than mine. And sometimes research is right about stuff. I have much to learn about some of my students and how they think, feel, and perceive – so here’s to training, challenging, changing, and reviving.

BUT (and I have a big ‘BUT’)…

I hereby declare my official hostility towards anyone who gets paid to tell teachers they’re doing it wrong. I don’t care if they’re researchers, reformers, authors, or bloggers – kiss my class agenda, edu-snobs.

My ethical obligation to regularly seek better ways to reach more kids more deeply does NOT validate your desire to lecture me or talk down to me or my comrades. Quite honestly, if your research and ideas and pedagogy are THAT great, you wouldn’t need to be so condescending about it – we’d run to you hungry for more.

Which, by the way, is pretty much what many of you keep telling me about my teaching methods. You know – if I were doing it right, I wouldn’t have to work so hard to coerce and browbeat them… like you’re doing to us?

You see, sharing ideas, stories, successes and failures, speculation and goals, are what professional development and collaboration and edu-blogging are all about. Maybe this time I’m at the front of the room and next time you’re showing us something your kids created, but at no point is it about being better, or smarter, or anyone ‘fixing’ anyone else.

Because at the end of the day, teaching is as much art as science. It’s as much educated guesswork as strategy. Given that you’re you and I’m me and that quirky new girl is the quirky new girl, consistency may be limited.

More significantly, my kids are my kids and your kids are yours. We may be in different rooms, different districts, or even different states, confronting different cultural variables, working with different resources, building on very different backgrounds and expectations… we’re lucky we ‘speak the same language’ at all.

When I’m in my classroom, my number one ethical and professional obligation has absolutely nothing to do with your studies, your strategies, and sure as hell not your tests – mandated or not. I’ll certainly consider the input of my department and my building leadership, but even those should take a back seat to what I think and feel and believe will be best for MY kids, today, right now.

And you have the same obligation.

I hope you play along in my workshops and that you consider my thinking, just as I appreciate yours. I hope you’re open enough to risk and change and stepping outside comfort zones to evolve as an educator and a professional, even when you’re getting by just fine already.

But when it’s go time, follow your gut. Do what you know is best for you kids, now and down the road. Do it however you think will best work for them, from you. Don’t think about your evaluations, your VAM, your scores on this or that assessment, or even your career. If there’s testing to consider, then consider it – but not at the expense of what your gut tells you is best for your students.

We’ve become SO comfortable doing things we know are bad for our kids because they’re ‘required’. Maybe we’re afraid, or maybe we simply hide behind what everyone else is doing. Is this such a rewarding career in terms of money, power, and glory, that we’ll sacrificing the very things that made it matter to begin with in order to keep it secure? Must be a helluva extra duty stipend.

Teach like a rockstar if that works for you – or like that Freedom Writers lady or Marzano or To Sir, With Love. Challenge yourself and those around you to evolve, to up our game, and to WIN THEM ALL somehow.

But don’t you dare do anything that doesn’t ring true in your gut because I told you to, or because it’s required. Don’t you dare dismiss your inner strategist because what you’re envisioning might be stupid, or doesn’t align with something official, or might get you into trouble.

We’re trying to save kids in an unsaveable world. We’re trying to do the impossible with the insufficient. I’m not sure how many ‘right’ ways there are to attempt such madness. I’m confident the ‘wrong’ way is to try to do it as someone else.

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Sneeze Seven Times

May 13, 2015June 4, 2023 ~ Blue Cereal

There’s a story in the Old Testament which –

Oh. Don’t worry. I’m not going to say anything particularly evangelical. This is one of them there ‘Bible as Literature’ moments. It works the same whether you’re a Sunday-go-to-Meetin’ type or a backslidden heathen of some sort. Just work with me here, people.

There’s a story in the Old Testament which has always kinda done ‘spoke to me’. It involved the prophet Elisha, who was one of the heavies. Following in the footsteps of Elijah, he was a high-octane, kinda-scary weird-guy-in-the-wilderness type prophet. This was the guy who, when mocked by some young men for being bald, had God bring two bears out of the woods to maul forty-two of them to death.

Not judging here, just saying this isn’t ‘Distant Stare’ Jesus with toddlers on his lap. This is an OLD Testament guy.

So Elisha has shown favor to a man and his wife, who have in turn taken him in from time to time (II Kings 4). He promises the woman she’ll have a son, which she has trouble accepting, as her husband is a tad ancient. The woman nevertheless spawns a lad, which makes her pretty happy, until one day the kid dies out of the blue from a brain aneurism or some such thing. Pretty tragic stuff, especially after his seemingly miraculous arrival.

The woman hunts down Elisha and begins chewing him out – rather bold, given his recent bear activity.

“Did I ask you for a son, my lord?” she said. “Didn’t I tell you, ‘Don’t raise my hopes’?”

Elisha’s reaction is interesting. He reacts with urgency – almost a touch of panic:

Elisha said to Gehazi, “Tuck your cloak into your belt, take my staff in your hand and run. Don’t greet anyone you meet, and if anyone greets you, do not answer. Lay my staff on the boy’s face.” But the child’s mother said, “As surely as the Lord lives and as you live, I will not leave you.” So he got up and followed her.

There’s a lesson here about stubborn supplication, but that’s not where I’m going with it this time. I also have to wonder about a miracle baby who dies young then gets alive again in terms of the foreshadowing, but… also not where we’re heading on this occasionally inspirational but essentially secular edu-blog. (See, I told you it wouldn’t be evangelical! Trust issues, much?)

Gehazi went on ahead and laid the staff on the boy’s face, but there was no sound or response. So Gehazi went back to meet Elisha and told him, “The boy has not awakened.”

So THAT’s discouraging.

When Elisha reached the house, there was the boy lying dead on his couch. He went in, shut the door on the two of them and prayed to the Lord. Then he got on the bed and lay on the boy, mouth to mouth, eyes to eyes, hands to hands. As he stretched himself out on him, the boy’s body grew warm.

Set aside your 21st century terror of perverts lurking around every corner and visualize a holy man laying himself down in the shape of a cross to redeem another. The Old Testament LOVES these echoes of the New, for those of you who ain’t currently redeemed and thus aware of such things. Steinbeck and Kingsolver got nuthin’ on Jeremiah when it comes to Biblical allusions – and his were preemptive!

Elisha turned away and walked back and forth in the room and then got on the bed and stretched out on him once more. The boy sneezed seven times and opened his eyes.

There it is. That’s the part that gets me every time. “The boy sneezed seven times… and opened his eyes.”

What a messy, embarrassing way to come back to life. I hate sneezing – it’s almost as unbearable as the hiccups. What kind of cruel universe would even allow such developments in the human beast? Forget wars, racism, greed, and lust – sneezing and hiccupping are THE WORST.

Compare this to something far glowier, like Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead, or emerging himself several chapters later. The rays of light, the music, the angels in the background, maybe a goose pimple or two. Instead, here, we get snot hitting your arm while you try not to flinch. Yuck.

If you think about the things in your life, or your teaching, or your marriage, or your child-rearing, or whatever, which have brought you the FURTHEST towards real understanding, real breakthrough, real life… are they the glowy happy times, or the messy chaotic what-the-freaking $#%&* times?

The things that really wake us up or propel us into lifier aliveness are often awkward and embarrassing. Literal birth itself is a disgusting mess no matter WHAT sort of shiny rhetoric you throw at it; how appropriate, then, that rebirth be at least somewhat problematic.

And that’s OK.

Elisha summoned Gehazi and said, “Call the Shunammite.” And he did. When she came, he said, “Take your son.” She came in, fell at his feet and bowed to the ground. Then she took her son and went out.

Finally, it’s a nice ironic flourish that life returns through sneezing in this story. Our customary “Gesundheit!” or “Bless you!” when another sneezes is generally thought to stem from the fear their spirit might shoot right out of their body. This is the precise OPPOSITE of that – what we in the business call “a lil’ twist.”

Then again, sneezing was also sometimes interpreted as a sign of blessing in the ancient world – the PAGAN world, that is. You probably remember that Telemachus fella’ from the Odyssey sneezing and making Penelope laugh. She recognized this as an omen that her enemies would all die at the hands of Odysseus – so, good times on that! But that’s MUCH less cool as a final not-even-a-twist AND tends to push the Old Testament closer to the camp of other ‘ancient’ literature or mythology. I’m not sure I want to do that here. Josh Brecheen would flip!

Either way, remember when you’re feeling awkward, or foolish, or pretty sure you’re screwing up, that life and growth happen in those sneezes, and by extension in those hiccups, messes, foolishness, and failure. Death was not only certain – it had arrived, and already done its damage! Yet somehow, through enough involuntary snotting and convulsions, the miracle returns. Life is back, and requesting a tissue.

May your world bring you effective sneezes.

Demolition Man

May 11, 2015June 4, 2023 ~ Blue Cereal ~ 1 Comment

If you normally read this blog via email, you’re going to want to go to the actual website post for this one so you’ll have the embedded multimedia support elements (i.e., video clips). Also, this one uses a bit of language.

I guess most blogs use language, come to think of it. In this case, though, I mean the naughty sort.

For those of you too young to remember, Sylvester Stallone is an old-time thespian best known for films offering social commentary and subtle allegory in the guise of action-adventure – lots of explosions and hitting people in the face, but… profoundly.

One such piece is 1993’s Demolition Man, in which he’s joined by Wesley Snipes and Sandra Bullock to address the ubiquitous challenges of acculturation. Of ‘fitting in’. Of how we deal with one another’s different values and customs – or how we don’t.

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Whether it’s moving to a new school, a new state or even another country, or merely crossing over into someone else’s paradigm or worldview, acculturation can be rough. It’s disorienting, and even the well-intentioned may not full appreciate which parts are familiar for you and which are frightening, or frustrating. You have gone from being an ‘us’ in your world to a ‘them’ in theirs.

You are ‘the other’ – as are they, to you.

We cannot help but see our own ways, our own values, our own styles, as ‘normal’. As George Carlin used to say, everyone who drives slower than us is a ‘Sunday Driver’ and everyone who drives faster is a maniac – it’s all about variance from the ‘us’.

Most of us do pretty well when tackling these things consciously. The girl in the hijab, the kid who doesn’t eat meat, the quiet boy who has trouble making eye contact or speaking in front of others – we’re good lil’ moderns, and we GOT THIS. We took those classes in teacher school explaining about poverty or race or various states of dysfunction at home and how it impacts our kids, and we’re just sensing and empathizing our bleeding hearts out all over it.

Problem is, sometimes students misunderstand our ways or reject our paradigms for reasons we don’t understand – and which we might not particularly appreciate if we did. They may just be lazy, or defiant, or otherwise problematic across all cultural and situational boundaries – in which case we deal with that as best we can. Other times, though, what they’re really doing is finding ways to get what THEY need without internalizing or completely giving in to OUR paradigm – the one we’ve often forced them into:

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What seems obvious, decent, appropriate (or not) to one group may mean something very different to another. I have students who sit at the same table every day for lunch and who are genuinely horrified if someone else claims that table for a day. They won’t provoke a conflict, but they’re offended – they feel violated. Chances are those sitting there have no idea it’s even a thing, and as long as they can sit together, could care less where. Which group is ‘right’? Which is more ‘civilized’?

If I cough, I’m expect to excuse myself; to do otherwise is rude. If I sneeze, however, the onus is on you to bless me. Why? How many other seemingly ‘obvious’ behaviors or customs might one violate without realizing they’re even a thing? How easy is it to confuse ‘common sense’ or ‘common decency’ with ‘I was just brought up this way and you weren’t’?

Notice in this same clip, though, the power of personal connection – of finding something familiar to which to hold during what might otherwise be a very disorienting experience. The fact that our protagonist – John Spartan (Stallone) – shows little weakness does NOT mean he’s comfortable. It means that part of his paradigm – his value system – involves looking confident, and in control.

Sometimes even familiar things play different or unexpected roles when walking in the realm of the ‘other’:

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Working towards a greater awareness of our own discomfort when out of our element might give us some perspective when confronted with someone not buying into our paradigm – especially when they’re not walking in our world entirely through their own will. When we understand that we’re experiencing very different realities, we can at least ask better questions – maybe even make actual progress:

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See? That went well, right?

Of course it’s entirely possible that the little turd, the lazy drifter, or the drama queen who are making you crazy really are just turds and drifters and drama queens. Sometimes students make us crazy because they’re just… ginormous pains in the ass.

But for any given pain, consider taking a kind of ‘Golden Rule’ approach – attempt to fathom others as you would wish others to attempt to fathom you. Most of us recognize our own fallibility, and that our assumptions may be completely mistaken. The trick is to recognize those assumptions before reacting to those not playing in the same sandbox as ourselves – even if they rub us the wrong way:

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In short, Demolition Man warns us of a number of ways in which we do our kids and ourselves a disservice through conflating habits and traditions with eternal values or universal expectations – whether rooted in different cultures, different households, or the wonders of very different DNA. If we’re to help them, or let them help us, we must begin by recognizing that their paradigms, values, and assumptions may be far different from ours. Until we bridge that gap, we’ll conflate their defiance and their coping mechanisms, their shortcomings with their mores.

Demolition Man isn’t just about a cop who tends to destroy a ridiculous amount of real estate in his pursuit of criminals – it’s about demolishing… *sniff*… the walls that keep us from truly seeing and understanding one another as well.

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To My Confused White Friends

May 9, 2015June 4, 2023 ~ Blue Cereal ~ 3 Comments

Primer For White Folks was conceived, not as a book for the expert in race relations, but rather for the average American who is disturbed by the rising racial tension which he feels around him and by the paradox of white and Negro relationships in a democracy waging a war of liberation and equality…
To do this it is necessary to shatter some of white America’s most popular ideas about the Negro… Through the written word, the stage, and the radio we have so often seen the Negro presented as a stereotype that when he forsakes his role we no longer recognize him. He has ceased to be the Negro; he has become something else – a hoodlum, a communist, or an agitator – not only a danger to the white world but, in our minds, to his own as well…
The Emancipation Proclamation and the Thirteenth, Fourteenth, and Fifteenth Amendments to the Constitution, which were intended as a bill of rights for the Negro, have for some time been meaningless in the South and often in parts of the North as well…
From the Preface to Primer For White Folks, compiled and edited by Bucklin Moon (1945)

The rest of the book is a collection of short stories and essays from black writers – some with familiar names, many not. It’s not about accusation, but communication. It says, in effect, “Here’s are snapshots of who some of us are – anything look familiar? Also, though… notice some things which probably aren’t.”

I’d not presume to carry such weight or proffer such talent. I’m not an expert in anything, and will spare you the now-clichéd pedigree in ‘black credibility from the white guy’ (which I don’t actually have, so that part will be easy.)

What I do have is 48 years as a well-intentioned straight white guy who’s gradually come to realize how clueless I’ve been about a number of things. A former conservative who still gets defensive at portrayals of my more faithful brethren as fascists and hate-mongers, I’m presumptuous enough to offer a brief list of tips for bewildered white folks who are liberal enough to wish cops would quit killing so many black citizens for a while, but who still aren’t clear on what the more outspoken representatives of that community want from THEM – the ones NOT killing ANYONE and just trying to get through their normal little white lives.

It is with uncharacteristic humility and speaking only from my own, limited perceptions that I offer this still rather amazing list of Wisdom for Confused White People circa 2015. Feel free to offer your additions, edits, or constructive criticisms below.

One – Speaking of #WhitePrivilege… I understand some natural defensiveness when told you’ve had it easier than others because of your gender, race, or whatever. Sometimes those expressing this point of view aren’t overly gracious about it, being on the other side of that equation and all.

But please understand it’s not primarily a criticism of YOU. It’s not a negation of your hard work, your good choices, your struggles, your recoveries, or your hurts. I know it FEELS that way, and sometimes it’s even SAID that way, but that’s NOT the underlying point.

It’s about others having weights on their ankles and artificial limits in place based on factors beyond their control, and which have no rational basis. It’s great that the guy born without arms, legs, or eyes can hunt antelope from a jet ski or whatever, but there are natural reasons not to blame him if he can’t – or even if he doesn’t bother to try. No arms, you know.

But the ever-denied but omnipresent obstacles strewn about like landmines for people of color (or others) make everything harder, and make some things all but impossible. The rules are different, the success rates thus unpredictable, and the blame and shame for disparate results constantly piled on by those not playing under similar conditions.

The fact that some succeed doesn’t suddenly prove the setup is fair. The fact that some have quit playing this particular game doesn’t establish some sort of genetic predisposition. Life is complicated.

Two – Most People of Color aren’t looking for your sympathy or your approval. Our culture is so steeped in po’ babies and warm fuzzies and never hurting anyone’s lil’ feelings ever that we’ve come to see too many difficult relationships in terms of who should pat who on the head and say ‘good job’.

Just because someone is trying to explain their experience or their point of view doesn’t mean they’re supplicating. Consider that perhaps they’re fighting for your soul rather than your patronage – for clarity more than charity.

And if from time to time you notice a certain ‘maintained distance’ or disinterest towards whatever warm fuzzies you throw out from time to time, it’s probably not personal (I mean, it might be I guess – are you an *sshole?) Social norms are learned and modified based on experience, both in person and online. They may simply have better things to do than validate your efforts to salve your conscience.

Three – Try to step back from the emotion, the cognitive dissonance you’ve probably experienced over events in the past six months, and even from your own assumptions about yourself. Pretend for a moment that you’re alone with your thoughts, and that whatever you think or feel in the next few minutes is not designed for social media consumption, interpersonal bonding, or heated debate – that it’s just you thinking through you.

If you’re angry, why? No, really? What makes you angry about recent comments, events, interpretations, etc.? There’s no right or wrong answer here – you don’t have to tell me or anyone else. If you feel a bit defensive, or defiant, or sad, or guilty, or even if you’ve been trying not to think about ANY of these seemingly distant riots and uprisings and whatever, ask yourself why. Just for a few minutes.

Let your mind sift a bit. No one will know.

We have an amazing capacity as humans to see what we wish to see and feel what we wish to feel. Our perceptions and our memories are horribly fragile and untrustworthy things, and our ability to distort and ignore essential to survival. No wonder, then, these same traits sometimes make it difficult for us to see clearly.

Add to this the complications of life, and such a complex world, and none of us have absolute perspective. I’m not suggesting there’s no ‘truth’ out there, or that all interpretations are equally valid, merely that it’s normal to lack perfect vision.

It’s also not unprecedented for you to have a handful of preconceptions or biases about people or groups. Few of us are truly all-accepting and love with divine equity, whatever our goals. Most, I hope, are troubled by overt racism and hatred, but what about those frustrating or ugly thoughts or feelings about the ‘other’ you have in some situations, or in with some types? Even if you don’t mean to? Be honest with yourself.

Own it, baby.

Because if we’re going to have these arguments, retweet those tweets, feel these feels, or in any way process the history unfolding around us, we should at least be as honest as possible with ourselves while we do it. Let’s make sure whatever we’re seeing, hearing, thinking, and feeling is as real as we can require of ourselves – and that we’ve weighed and measured before we react with such conviction and such passion.

Oh, the conclusion of that Preface I mentioned…

It is obvious that out of this war must come a new status for the Negro or what we are fighting for is a mockery. Is there really a Negro problem, or is it… actually a white problem? For eighty years we have tried to figure out why the Negro is a problem, yet after all our surveys, books, and research, there are no scientific findings to prove that he is one. Segregation is a costly experiment. We know what it has cost the Negro; it is time to figure out what it has cost us and how much longer we can afford the luxury.