Make Me (Lessons from the Classroom in a Time of Corona)

Mount Rushmore-19As I write this, the nation is getting restless with all of this Covid-19 “shelter in place” stuff. The daily body count is a constant feature on any 24/7 news channel, and there are some real concerns about how we survive economically even if most of us eventually get through it medically.  I’m not going to argue the science, the economics, or even the politics of the thing at the moment. I can’t help noticing, however, several features of the current crisis which aren’t entirely unfamiliar to educators. Since many of us have a bit more time on our hands than we’d like, I figure there’s nothing lost in pondering a few of them here.

First: The Overwhelmed Medical Profession

Teachers aren’t doctors. We may save lives in some sense, but nothing like what many of them do quite literally every day. Nevertheless, there’s something familiar about the current dynamic in which medical professionals are being asked to handle an ongoing disaster which was largely preventable, using insufficient resources largely selected and distributed based on politics rather than in consultation with those who are actually experts in the field. To those in scrubs: we feel you, friend.

Just to antagonize them further, many of the same voices which are offering token praise of their efforts and personal sacrifices are in the same breath undercutting the entire ideology within which they operate. This isn’t a medical issue to be addressed with science! It’s a plot! A subversion of our way of life based on political skullduggery! “Social distancing”? More like Social-ISM! Again, yep. Been there. Still are, actually.

Anti-Social Distancing, MomSecond: A Federalism of Convenience

The relationship between local, state, and federal government is usually at its tightest when disaster strikes, but not so this time. I feel for mayors and governors who are attempting to manage a situation which by its very nature spills over borders freely and which they lack the power to fully contain. If they had complete control of those in their districts over an extended period of time, they could no doubt make great strides in turning this baby around, but instead people come and go and they lack the power to prevent it.

Even worse, they’re dealing with a federal government claiming to want to help them but often making things more difficult. Resources which could be going to their neediest citizens are redirected by powers in Washington, D.C., based on their own political priorities and pet projects. Any effort to make their own rules is met with resistance; any effort to coordinate solutions is shrugged off as “not a federal responsibility.” I’m not suggesting the immediate consequences are quite as severe, but this dynamic does sound vaguely familiar to those of us in public education.

Third: The “Make Me” Problem

Let’s assume for the moment that the majority of mayors and governors ordering businesses closed or that people stay inside have good intentions and want to save lives and so on. I’m not challenging anyone’s motivation. There’s a tricky distinction, however, between authority and control. More than anything else happening on the national stage at the moment, THIS is something QUITE familiar to educators of any subject at any grade level.

Sorry We're ClosedIn theory, I’m in charge of my class. There are guidelines within which I’m expected to work – I can’t hit the kids, cuss at them, take their personal stuff, etc. There are rules limiting what I can and cannot do. Within those rules, however, I have some leeway how I manage my classroom. In theory, if I insist there be no talking during silent reading, then there should be no talking. If I decree a seating chart, students should sit where the chart says they sit. Because those are the rules. While they may be inconvenient for the individual, they’re good for the class as a whole – or at least that’s the ideal.

In practice, however, every line drawn is a calculated risk. If I tell a class that there’s to be no talking the rest of the hour, I’d better know exactly what I’m willing to do about it if they talk anyway. As any parent knows, once you’ve repeated your expectations without getting the desired results a few times, you’d better have something else in your arsenal or you’ve just announced to the 12-year old that from here on out, they’re in charge. Since most of us can’t spank our students or send them to their rooms without supper, we’re left with less direct alternatives.

Generally speaking, teachers use a concoction of authority, relationship, and reason to prompt student cooperation. The mix won’t look the same from teacher to teacher or even from class to class throughout the day, but most effective teachers have all three in there somewhere.

Authority comes from the position. If you don’t cooperate, I’ll call your mom. I’ll write you up. I’ll give you detention. Authority by itself is a blunt instrument, but one you have to be willing to use for it to mean anything. Ideally, however, you rely on it as little as possible after the first month or so. Authority lets you win battles, but it does little to promote excellence or creativity or taking productive risks.

One things governors and mayors have had to do recently that we don’t see very often is use their authority to tell citizens what they can and can’t do. Not everyone was even sure how it worked – when was the last time you had to worry that the Mayor might find out that you REALLY went to Wal-Mart for a picture frame and only bought canned goods so you wouldn’t look guilty?

No Paint Brushes For You!Relationships are far more subtle. Many non-educators assume teachers get to know our kids because we’re all touchy-feely little snowflake-builders who just want everyone to feel loved. Sure, most of us care what happens to our kids, but that’s not the underlying reason relationships are essential. Without relationships, the only thing I’ve got to motivate them to cooperate are rules and reason. I don’t know if you’ve met an American teenager lately, but they’re not all fond of rules, and as a culture we’re not so great with “reason.”

It’s not about being their “friend” – it’s about wooing, cajoling, inspiring, badgering, or otherwise figuring out what motivates each kid to come to the damned water and DRINK! We’re being measured by little Johnny’s reading scores, however, so one way or the other we’re going to try to figure out what makes him refuse to tick – even if that means we have to get to know him.

Finally, there’s the issue of “buy-in.” Do the rules make sense to those expected to follow them? I can tell my kids to quiet down and most probably will, but it’s not simply because I have authority, although that helps. It matters that I’ve invested in getting to know them – they don’t all love me, but we have mostly positive relationships. What clinches the deal is that most of them accept on a fundamental level that a quiet environment is sometimes reasonable and normal in class. They may not always cooperate, but few would argue with conviction that moving around and more random outbursts would really help them focus on their reading. 

With enough relationship and/or authority, I can sometimes get “buy-in” on things they don’t yet understand or see the value of. OK, Mr. Cereal – we’re not sure what you’re up to here, but you’ve mostly been OK up until now, so we’ll go along with it for a bit and see how it plays out.” It’s actually deceptively easy to stumble deep into the pedagogical woods before you turn around and realize no one’s coming with you. You can play the “authority” card all you like at that point, and the best you’ll get is external compliance minus all real learning or enthusiasm. Often, you won’t even get that – especially if they start to notice that others among them feel the same.

It can turn. Quickly. Ask any teacher.

Snowflake MakerThis is the part presenting the biggest challenge to local authorities at the moment as they try to figure out how long to keep some things closed, or – like the poor Governor of Michigan – how to let you go to Wal-Mart for car parts and milk but make sure you don’t grab a few $5 DVDs while you’re there because those aren’t “essential.”

Sure, there are folks at each extreme – some insist the virus is no big deal because people die of other stuff all the time, while others bleach their mail before opening it. Most, however, are somewhere in between. They’re willing to mostly stay at home, and practice a certain amount of “social distancing,” and wait this out for a few more days. Maybe even weeks. They may not like it, and may not always follow the rules, but they subscribe the basic concept – we don’t want people to get sick and die.

Just like my students, however, we’re starting to see the backlash when authority lacks relationship or people no longer buy the reasoning. Why can’t we just…? What about…? And surely you can’t tell me not to…? It’s not a failure of mayors or governors, it’s human nature when it comes to unfamiliar rules and people you may not know or like much telling you what to do. I’m not sure mayors or governors are used to being in the position of having to win folks over once they’ve taken office, particularly not when it comes to matters of public health or emergency measures. They have my sympathy – even the ones I usually disagree with.

I suggest taking a breath and starting fresh tomorrow. Be ready to bust out the authority, if you have it and are willing to use it, and try to listen to representatives from the disaffected. If that’s not enough, however, they’ll need to do a much better job persuading the majority that their reasons and policies make sense for everyone – that they have a plan and it will pay off, if only we’ll play along. If not, you should consider calling everyone’s moms. You’d be surprised how often that works.

Scaffold The $#*& Out Of It

Scaffolding StairsMy students are not typical of those I’ve had in the past. I’ve had plenty of diversity in my 22+ years of public education, but it’s always been just that – diversity. My current school is not particularly diverse. Sure, there’s a mix of haggard white kids and not-particularly-prosperous Hispanic students walking the halls, but by far the greatest majority of my darlings are poor, Black, and from backgrounds the rest of us might cautiously clump together as “complicated.”

So it’s been a learning experience.

The most bracing realization was that pretty much nothing I’d ever done in class with any other group of students actually works here. That’s not an attack on them so much as a confession of my own shortcomings. I’ve been riding high on personality and pedagogy-with-a-flair for quite a few years, and finding out that I was incapable of successfully communicating, for example, the “iceberg” approach to analyzing a short story (the author uses the “ice” above the water – the details in the story – to hint at the larger realities just below the surface) was humbling.

I’d rather not even discuss the results of our efforts to recognize ethos, logos, and pathos is persuasive writing, commercials, or print ads. It was… messy.

But hey – I’ve been to teacher school. Once. A long time ago. I’ve got one of them “toolboxes” we always hear about, stuffed onto a shelf somewhere in my metaphorical pedagogical garage. This is doable, right?

Right?

The Five Paragraph Essay

Scaffolding MysteryFor those of you new to education, there are several things you can bring up in any gathering of teachers to virtually GUARANTEE a complete and total breakdown of whatever was SUPPOSED to be happening. “So… what’s our primary goal as educators, exactly?” is a classic – both unanswerable and constantly answered poorly. “How should our honors/advanced/GT/AP classes be different than our regular/on-level/academic classes?” is another sure-fire disrupter. Oh, and I particularly enjoy overtly ethical and unavoidably emotional conundrums: “Do we really want students missing class because they’re not properly aligned with our outdated and possibly misogynistic ideas about clothing?” or “Should attendance really matter if they can demonstrate they can do the work and have mastered the skills?”

It’s good times, I assure you.

For English or Social Studies teachers (especially those frothy AP types), the Holy Hand Grenade of rapport-killers is the Five Paragraph Essay. Come out in favor, come out opposed, or simply mention it in passing, and off the rest of us will go. Only Wikipedia and Teach For America have achieved similar infamy for their ability to produce pseudo-intellectual chaos and mutual hostility, online or in the teachers’ lounge.

Honestly, you’d be better off bringing up religion, immigration, or abortion. Fewer emotions or deeply entrenched convictions in play that way.

More ScaffoldingThe primary criticism of the Five Paragraph Essay is that it’s stifling. Students learn to plug-n-play to fit a format without any real conviction and little actual learning. It’s barely an evolutionary step up from fill-in-the-blank worksheets. Secondary teachers and college professors alike lament their students’ inability to break free once their minds have been trapped and corrupted by this five-part infection.

An essay should be however long it takes to say what you have to say! This “structure” practically DEMANDS bland, surface-level thinking and formulaic thesis statements! It destroys creativity and genuine thought! IT PRODUCES STUDENTS WHO ASK HOW MANY SENTENCES HAVE TO BE IN EACH PARAGRAPH!!!

Those voicing these complaints aren’t entirely wrong.

At the same time, there’s something to be said for structure. How much great rock’n’roll started with the same basic 12-bar blues? How grounded is most Occidental music in the standard 12-note chromatic scale? And while there are plenty of examples to the contrary, it’s still hard to beat the power of verse-chorus-verse-chorus-bridge-(verse)-chorus. And yet, somehow, music has managed to remain fresh and creative and meaningful and real.

Well, some of it, anyway.

If the musical example doesn’t resonate with you, there’s a comparable structure for planning a meal. Salads come first, maybe with a little bread. It’s typically green and one of two or three main varieties. The main course comes next, and ideally consists of one-quarter proteins, another quarter carbohydrates, and the remaining half some sort of vegetable. Dessert is last, and usually sweet.

Of course you can defy conventions if you wish. Have your green beans with your mousse or stir your salad into your iced tea. That sort of freedom periodically leads to brilliance and creativity, like whoever first thought to put ham or buffalo chicken on salad. Yum!

Generally, however – especially when you’re new to the process – there’s strength and security in following established wisdom.

Scaffolding Like CrazyI’ve previously compared writing with structure to making brownies from a box. It’s absurd for anyone with actual baking skills, but for someone at my amateurish level, those pre-measured ingredients and carefully diagrammed steps are a lifesaver. So are the instructions about how to put together my new desk or “how-to” guides for replacing the trim in your house. Even John Coltrane and Miles Davis mastered their scales before leaving the planet with their own ideas about what jazz could be.

And it seems I’ve come full circle back to the music metaphor. So be it.

I get that there are problems with the Five Paragraph Essay. For example, it’s unlikely most of my students will ever be called on to open with an attention-grabber, introduce what they’re going to say and how they’ll support it, elaborate on each of those points, then restate everything by way of conclusion. The so-called “real world” will rarely expect them to write this way and, unless you’re an old-school preacher, most of us don’t talk that way – and couldn’t, even if we wanted to.

On the other hand, at some point in their lives, assuming a modicum of personal or professional success, it IS likely they’ll be expected to explain a process, persuade a small group, or advocate for themselves or someone in their care. It may be formal, as part of a business presentation, or informal, standing at a customer service counter, or perhaps sitting across the desk from their child’s teacher or principal. It may be part of their effort to get a loan, defend themselves against a traffic ticket, or make a case at a community meeting for some policy or another.

While expressing themselves like a Five Paragraph Essay may not be the most effective approach, neither is their current default of “Tsst! Are you %&@4ing STUPID?!” The hope, then, is that by working on overall clarity and the necessity of supporting any argument with clear, rational thought, they’ll be better able to transfer this general skill to situations beyond the classroom.

Hey, we can dream, can’t we?

That is, in any case, the current reality in which I teach – or did before the Covid-19 beast descended. (I can’t wait for Easter when everything will be magically cured by saving the stock market.) As recently as a month or so ago, however, we were still just having school and trying to pry open their little minds and cram in some learnin’.

House of ScaffoldsI don’t belong to a particularly organized English department. There’s no time built into the weekly (or yearly) schedule for collaboration or team-building or whatever, and as of March I don’t actually know the names of everyone who teaches the same subject I do. Meetings are infrequent and informal (although there were snacks last time), and most of the teachers I actually talk to regularly are a door or two in either direction in my hallway.

A few days ago, as I was passing by between classes, I casually asked a colleague how things were going. She was unexpectedly peppy in response.

“Great! We finally got through five paragraph essays!”

“That’s awesome. Were they any good?”

“Well… they weren’t all terrible, and that’s saying something.”

“I haven’t even come back to writing yet this semester. What’s your secret?”

“Secret? Ha – no secret. We just scaffold the $#*% out of it!”

Scaffold of LibertyTwenty years ago, I would have been intimidated by the terminology (the “scaffold,” not the “$#*&%”). I was getting by on enthusiasm and self-delusion and if I’d slowed down to think about anything too clearly, I’d have been Wile E. Coyote just after running off the cliff – he didn’t plummet until he looked down.

Ten years ago, I would have understood it, but been a bit dismissive. I had different kids then, and while I’d dramatically improved my grasp of pedagogy and child development, my students generally arrived with enough basic skills that my primary challenge was to engage and motivate so we could push towards greatness, not rehash the basics of playing school.

I genuinely love my little darlings this year, some because I choose to and others because I just can’t help it once I get to know them. Winning them over is still part of the equation – not for my benefit, but because it’s the only way most of them are likely to learn anything “academic” while in my care. I’ve learned not to make any assumptions about what they already know or what they can do – not because they’re “stupid” (they’re not), but because they’re such an unpredictable mix of ignorance and ability. They can definitely learn. They can even learn to enjoy learning. Their tolerance for challenge is low, however, and their frustration palpable at the slightest speedbump.

I can lament the loss of rose-colored “good ol’ days,” or I can put on my big-teacher panties and adjust based on the students in front of me and what they need if they’re to have any chance of moving forward. It just requires a different approach – one I’m finally mastering after 20+ years in the classroom.

We scaffold the $#*& out of it.

Scaffold Map

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Relationships

Distance LearningGood morning. Welcome to our first back-to-school faculty meeting. We have several important items on the agenda today, then we’re going to fill the afternoon with pointless activities we found online because the district says we have to professionally develop until at least 3:00 whether we need it or not.

As some of you know, we had a bit of unpleasantness last spring which we’d like to avoid happening again this coming year. A teacher who is no longer with us crossed a few boundaries and before you knew it, we were leading off the local evening news – and unfortunately it wasn’t for our horrible test scores this time.

With that in mind, I’d like to draw your attention to the pink handout in front of you. These are some of this year’s revised guidelines for teacher-student interactions. I won’t read it all to you (it’s not PowerPoint), but I would like to point out a few highlights.

First and foremost, no touching. If you need to get a student’s attention, use your words. If you wish to encourage them… well, it’s best if you avoid that altogether. Some of you have fallen into a very bad habit of putting a hand on a shoulder or patting a student on the back as you walk by. You may intend this as an innocent gesture or believe that young people need some sort of positive physical contact in their lives, but the risk is simply too great.

This also applies to handshakes as they walk in the door, whether you’re in clear view of dozens of other faculty members or not. Also, several of you have asked about student-initiated contact. Sometimes when a student sees a favorite teacher from last year, particularly if they were an important presence in their world and they haven’t always had that sort of attention or concern from the adults who should be paying attention to them, that student will come up and try to side-hug or even fully embrace that teacher.

After the situation with Mr. Barnaby last year, I’m afraid this is absolutely unacceptable and may lead to dismissal. What’s that? Oh, the “alleged” situation. I don’t know why we have to call it that. Parents were angry on social media – what more proof of actual wrongdoing do we need?

Anyway, back to the pink handout, just below the cute cartoon with the teacher in the dungeon. What should you do if you recognize that a student is approaching you for a possible handshake or hug? Well, you have several options. One is to make eye contact, extend your palm forward, and firmly pronounce, “No! No No No!” If this doesn’t work, we recommend moving away at whatever pace necessary to avoid physical contact.

Question? Yes – breaking into a full run at the approach of any affectionate student is not only permitted, but ideal as long as you avoid contacting others in your effort to flee.

Don’t forget to keep shouting “No!” We’re teachers; we want them to learn from every situation. With that in mind we’ve also placed small, conveniently-sized mace sprayer-thingies in your mailboxes, although these should only be used if other efforts to avoid human connection are unsuccessful. They are NOT to be used as a “team-building” activity during your monthly PLC meetings, as occurred in one department last year. I’m pretty sure Mr. Barnaby was involved in that episode as well, come to think of it.

Bubble WomanThe second thing I’d like to point out are the communication guidelines we’ve instituted. Teachers should absolutely avoid connecting with students on social media in any form. We’d prefer you not communicate with the world around you at all – at least not about anything of substance. You may post recipes or pictures of student activities with all names and faces blurred out, but nothing personal, political, social, or humorous. No matter how benign, there’s a chance someone in the community will find it and erupt in faux outrage, convinced that if you’re sharing it on Facebook with a small group of select friends, you’re probably brainwashing minors with it all day, every day, because that’s what liberals do.

If you wish to have political opinions, prefer one sports team over another, promote American values, or like your grandbaby more than someone else’s grandbaby, maybe you should have thought of that before you became an educator. We’re not here to connect what we teach with real life or present ourselves as involved citizens. This is school.

New this year are the guidelines governing interactions within the school day. It’s come to our attention that a number of students have been approaching their teachers with issues not directly related to the curriculum. Sometimes these conversations seem benign enough – “Have you seen this movie?” or “Did you hear what happened to that celebrity, so-and-so?” Other times, though, they involve their personal lives, their hopes, fears, families, friends, relationships, goals, strengths, weaknesses, or other completely inappropriate topics for school.

If a firm stare and verbal warning doesn’t dissuade these inappropriate interpersonal interactions, you should immediately refer them to their school counselor, who will give them a career survey to complete until they forget what they were wanting to talk about. As with the “touching” issue above, feel free to run away screaming “No! No! No!” until the student is sufficiently re-engaged with that day’s assignment.

I suggest explaining to them how that day’s lesson correlates to state standards and maybe remind of them of how much better their life could potentially be in 10 – 20 years if they succeed in your class today. Whatever their personal issues, that should pretty much address them. Who doesn’t want to be successful a decade or two from now?

For anything more serious than movies, books, or music, call the 800-number we had carved into each of your desks over the summer. This will connect you with an overworked federal agency tasked with getting you out of these conversations. While technically this number is intended to be used for reporting suspicions of abuse or concerns about violence or suicidal behavior, we recommend using it every time a teenager brings up a recent breakup with their boyfriend, sounds worried about their ability to do well in school, expresses sadness or confusion related to difficult circumstances at home, or exhibits any other emotion not directly related to that day’s assignment.

State law mandates the agency investigate, which in turn automatically alerts local police, the fire department, child services, local media, the PTSA’s Facebook Group, the federal housing authority, and at least one associate producer working for Maury. Until they arrive, it is essential that you refuse to respond to or otherwise discuss with this student anything on their mind or hampering their ability to focus on school. You are NOT a trained counselor. It’s not as if simply listening and showing you care is going to do anything. I’m sure you mean well, but the risk is simply too great. (Remember Mr. Barnaby.)

The Wall StudentsThe final section I’d like to discuss on your pink handout involves lesson planning. We’re going to start asking you to submit written lesson plans for approval at least one week in advance each week. It’s come to our attention that some of you – and I’ll confess that the English and Social Studies departments are particularly culpable here – have been making explicit or implied connections between subjects you cover in class and events going on in the community, the U.S., or the world today. This is simply unacceptable.

We are not here to manipulate students into thinking or feeling the same way we do about current events, and the only way to safely circumvent any gray area on this is to avoid doing anything intended to make them think or feel at all. Our legal counsel has suggested we leave thinking and feeling up to their parents, clergy, or therapists in order to shield the district from potential culpability. It’s best they not connect with you, that you don’t connect with them, and that nothing you say or do in class – however well-intentioned – connect with anything happening in their lives outside of school or the real world around them.

It’s simply not our place.

Alright, that’s it for the pink handout. Any questions?

Good. Let’s take a short break and when we come back, we’ll be looking at the green handout – “The Importance of Relationship in Learning.” They don’t care how much you know until they know how much you care, amiright?

 

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Blue Serials (2/8/20) – Social Media Edition

 Happy chocolate-covered stuff!

Choco-HeartI suppose this is – by default – the Valentine’s Day Edition of Blue Serials this month.

I’ll be honest. This is NOT one of my favorite holidays. It seems contrived and completely driven by guilt, expectations, and consumerism. It also makes it REALLY hard to get into any decent restaurants for several days before and after.

I mean, I’m glad you’re SO IN LOVE, people – but I was wanting an apple pecan salad, dammit!

Since it is the time of the year for celebrating dysfunctional love, however, I will be offering you a few Blue Cereal-approved love songs, each with a tainted twist. Don’t worry, however – there’s still plenty of education and educational news to discuss this week.

Are You Sure That’s How Karma Works?

A high school principal in Camas, Washington, is in hot water for a Facebook post made in response to news of Kobe Bryant’s death:

“Not gonna lie. Seems to me that karma caught up with a rapist today,”

Ouch.

Principal Liza Sejkora of Camas High School (Go Papermakers!) was put on leave and later resigned, despite having deleted the post once she learned how many others had died in the crash.

In response, students at the high school organized a walk-out, which was apparently approved by administration as long as they agreed to stay in the building while leaving. Nothing is more “public school administration” than asking students to go through the motions of socio-political engagement without actually doing it. It’s like letting them cut school as long as they do it in class and keep up with the work assigned that day and don’t disrupt others, or having students work together to develop classroom rules and policies as long as they end up with the same 12 already on the laminated posters from last year.

In the district’s defense, they were partly concerned about the death threats and promises of retaliatory violence against the school due to Sejkora’s comments. The only thing more American in the 21st century than social media outrage is the predictable number of people who want to literally kill you and everyone you know for it – and tell you about it, repeatedly.

But hey – good people on both sides, amiright?

Whatever the school’s safety concerns, it turns out you simply can’t control the moral outrage of small-town white teenagers who are practically Canadian. They left the building anyway and milled around just outside for a bit.

Camas WalkoutTurns out was pretty cold, which kept indignation to a minimum, but they nevertheless took a few minutes to chant “Kobe! Kobe!” and wave an American flag in order to demonstrate their reflective analysis of the complicated dynamics of the situation and explore the tension between the First Amendment and the realities of public school policies and politics.

It’s a legitimately complicated issue, although the moment the community outrage machine was activated, Doctor Sejkora’s fate was sealed and neither statutes nor reality were of concern any longer. Plus, she should have known better. Setting aside whatever Kobe Bryant did or didn’t do, is it genuinely possible to pay the slightest attention to American politics, entertainment, and industry and still believe that doing horrible things to people – even sexual assault – might hurt your power or prestige?

There’s far more risk of being demonized and losing your job over the faux outrage of a few teenagers and their bored parents. I’ve watched it happen too many times. It’s surprising I haven’t grown cyncial or bitter over it.

 

Are You Sure That’s How Twitter Works?

Doctor Sejkora isn’t the first educator to find herself in trouble over social media posts. The only truly surprising thing is that teachers still don’t recognize when they’re putting themselves in precarious employment circumstances. And it’s not just the few who are against rape – it covers the political spectrum:

Fort Worth Teacher Tweets

A Fort Worth, Texas, teacher was fired just this past June for multiple Tweets petitioning President Trump for assistance. My personal favorites were “Anything you can do to remove the illegals from Fort Worth would be greatly appreciated,” followed by her home phone and cell numbers. She apparently didn’t understand how Twitter works – what with it being so new and unknown and barely used in 2019 – and believed her tweets were private merely because they were addressed to @realDonaldTrump.  “I need protection from recrimination should I report it to the authorities but I do not know where to turn… Texas will not protect whistleblowers. The Mexicans refuse to honor our flag.”

It’s weird that there’s no record of him stepping up to help her. He’s usually so loyal and self-sacrificing for those who throw themselves on the fire to support him.

In Clark’s defense, the President can say whatever he likes on Twitter without repercussions. Then again, he was born rich, white, and male. Georgia Clark is only one of those three – and thus, her actions have consequences. Still, it’s a wonder she doesn’t have her own show on Fox or a post in the President’s cabinet by now. Maybe I’ll tweet them about it and see what they can do…

 

Are You Sure That’s How Catholicism Works?

It’s not just public schools. A teacher at Bishop England High School was let go – not by being fired, but by simply not having her contract removed – for her passionate defense of a woman’s “right to choose” on social media.It turns out Catholics are traditionally pro-life. Who knew?

She in turn sued the school for violating her First Amendment rights, despite having signed a contract agreeing not to do stuff like that.

Teachers accepting jobs at Bishop England sign contracts agreeing to speak publicly and to act in accordance with Catholic beliefs, regardless of whether they are Catholic, to aid in the “intellectual and spiritual development of students according to the teachings of Jesus Christ and the Roman Catholic Church.”

Oops. And all the times I just clicked “I Agree” so I could move on with my life…

Are You Sure That’s How MySpace Works?

Drink Like A PirateThe examples of educators getting in trouble for social media behavior are endless, and it’s not a new issue. Seems to me it was somewhat more understandable a decade ago that many teachers were unclear what they could and couldn’t get away with on social media. As reported in this 2010 article from the National Education Association, the problem goes back as far as – wait for it – MySpace:

The Columbus (Ohio) Dispatch ran an exposé entitled, “Teachers’ Saucy Web Profiles Risk Jobs.” One 25-year-old female bragged on her MySpace site about being “sexy” and “an aggressive freak in bed.” Another confessed that she recently got drunk, took drugs, went skinny-dipping, and got married.

Come on, who HASN’T done those things and bragged about them publicly? I, for one, am totally a freak in bed, and most of my marriages have resulted from drug-induced skinny-dipping. That doesn’t mean I’m not an excellent model for young people.

As a Blue Cereal public service, here are a few general guidelines to follow, although details may vary depending on your district and the political leanings of your community.

It’s generally frowned upon to suggest you’d like to murder a teenager with a sniper rifle.

Don’t suggest that your gay kids are perverted by a sin that spreads like cancer.

Videos of yourself pole-dancing naked are probably a deal-breaker, but pole-dancing in exercise clothing as part of workout trend is still a gray area.

Also unclear is the status of topless selfies texted to a colleague who later shares them with students. Since this is not a problem if you’re a dude, should it be a problem if you’re a babe?

It’s a DEFINITE no-no to vent publicly that a bunch of 5th graders can suck your ****. (Who knew?)

This one’s for administration and the community. Shocking as it may seem, not every random rumor or scandal involving a teacher is true. Sometimes teenagers and their parents just love cranking up the community outrage machine without having actual facts or caring that much about reality. On the other hand, schools are supposed to prepare young people for real life after high school, and doing this certainly fits that description.

 

Are You Sure That’s How Russia Works?

It’s not just in the U.S., it seems. A teacher in Russia this past year was forced to resign after pictures surfaced showing her in a swimsuit and an evening gown (although not at the same time). Oddly, the evening gown was the less appropriate of the two, given that she’d just competed in a swimming competition – something they apparently frowned upon in Russia?

Russia Swimming

Here’s the most interesting bit, however:

After the story made headlines, Russian educators, both female and male, launched a flash mob posting their photos in swimsuits, underwear and sportswear under the hashtag #teachersarehumanstoo, to defy the hardline approach.

Russian Teachers Are Human Too

Are You Sure That’s How Blue Serials Works?

OK, I confess – we really only covered one recent education news story this week. It ended up leading to a kind of “theme,” if you will. Still, I hope you found it both enlightening and inspiring.

If not, please rant about it using obscenities and such on social media. Don’t worry – you have complete First Amendment protection no matter what your profession or what agreements you’ve signed. I’m sure of it.

If you have education news to share or want to write a Guest Blog Post anytime in the month of February, this is your chance. Just email me at [email protected] and let me know. You COULD win a rare #11FF Lunch Box for sharing the love!

You Get Up

Take Me Anywhere

Buck Owens

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.

Forklift FailSee, 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?

Thumbs Up BuriedThis 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…

Cabinets FailIt’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.

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