Anyone Remember the Movie Ice Castles?

 January 22, 2022

I gave my students several prompts to choose from to write some literacy narratives: stories about the way in which people, moments, or events helped shape their sense of themselves as readers and writers.  I thought I'd write to a couple of the prompts along with them.

When I was in sixth grade, we had a competition for reading in my class.  My district was very competition-driven.  My teacher, who was a hiking fanatic, had a giant butcher paper, snow-capped mountain covering the wall behind his desk, and each student was represented by a tiny push pin with our names affixed like tiny banners.  We had a goal of a certain number of books to read by the end of the semester, and each week our little push pins would journey farther up the mountain in increments that correlated to the numbers of books we had read. The first person to meet their reading goal would summit the mountain and earn a prize.

The prize was one I can’t imagine being awarded in this day and age, but seemed perfectly reasonable then.  Our teacher would take the winner out for dinner and a movie in the theater.  The movie would be of our choosing.  As I said, our school was very competitive, and in particular there was a boy named Derek Woolverton in my class with whom I had the fiercest–although friendly–competition. We were both in the top reading group, and each of us was determined to summit the mountain first.  We read voraciously through the semester and maintained a neck-and-neck race all throughout.  There was another student who joined us at the top of the pack, and ultimately, the three of us summited in the same week.  There was a three-way tie for first place.  Our teacher decided it was only fair that all three of us would share the prize.

We debated  about the movie we would get to see.  Derek was loudly advocating for Star Wars.  I was not much interested.  I wanted to see Ice Castles, a love story about a competitive skater who overcomes tragedy with the help of her dedicated boyfriend.  I was able to sway our other competitor to my side, and Ice Castles won.  I am sure that our teacher would probably rather have seen Star Wars, but he allowed us to diplomatically decide among the three of us, rather than weighing in himself.

I don’t remember where we went to dinner that night, but getting to go out in the evening to a movie theater with my teacher and two classmates was a true reward.  Going to the theater at all was a rare treat back then. We felt like classroom celebrities–kind of a big deal when you are only ten years old.  Once there, we got a big bucket of popcorn to share and allowed ourselves to be enveloped by the darkness of the theater.  The music swelled, and the film came to life.  We were entranced–even Derek, who was won over by the experience and didn’t hold it against us that he wasn’t sitting in the theater watching Star Wars.

It was the days before the internet, and Nextflix, and the likes of HBO.  When we did watch films or television shows, it was almost always on the small screen on one of the three channels available to us at the time.  A real, larger-than-life movie was a novelty, and although I was engrossed in the film and it made me cry in all the places it was designed to tug at my heartstrings (yes, even back then I was an emotional and sentimental girl), one of the things that I can distinctly remember was that there was so much swearing.  It was a rated PG movie, but it was a 1970s PG, which meant PG encompassed a whole lot more language, nudity, and violence than the films of today.  This was even before the PG-13 designation came along, so the net was even wider for films that fell into this PG category.  I can remember clearly that it was almost as though there were two sides of myself watching–the one absolutely enjoying the storyline and the whole experience I had earned, and the other side that was very definitely worried that our teacher would get in trouble for bringing three young, impressionable kids to this movie.  My own parents didn’t swear at home, and this movie was probably the most swearing I had ever heard in a concentrated two hour block.  Although I wasn’t offended by it, I thought perhaps if my parents knew, they would get angry.

Ultimately, when I got dropped off at home and my mom asked me if I had enjoyed the evening, I told her all about it–sans the swearing.  She smiled and told me she was glad I had had a good time, and that she was proud of me for earning the reward, and then she sent me to bed.  It was late, and there was school in the morning.  The movie and the experience remained a treasured memory for me for a very long time, and the film remained one of my favorites for several years.  I had already been a dedicated reader by the time that competition came along, but being celebrated for it even further cemented my life-long love for it.

I'm Back

 January 14, 2022

Due to the ever-evolving nature of Covid protocols at school, paired with this particularly contagious Omicron variant, I had a record number of students out last week, and then I was out this past week. Today I was finally able to return, and I got to see some students I haven't seen since before Winter Break.  As tired as I have been this year, and as frustrated as I have been with the constant shifts in--well, everything in our profession, there is nothing like the cheerful greetings of my students when I return from an absence, especially a prolonged one.  As I greeted my students in the hallway in front of my classroom door, welcoming them into the room, I heard so many of my kids turn to their friends and say, "Ms. Lutjens is back! Hey--she's here today!" before turning to me and saying, "Welcome back--we missed you!" Same, you guys.  Same. 

A Good Day in the Classroom

 October 9, 2021

Yesterday, in my last class of the day, we were talking about some of the social issues an author was addressing in his literature. We then trained our lens on how those issues are still relevant in today's world--how they've changed, how they've remained problematic. It was a long discussion about challenging issues with many different perspectives. The kids spoke their minds. They spoke from experience. They shared perspectives. They were passionate AND respectful. It was amazing. I had two kids say how important they felt it was to have these conversations. One kid thanked the rest of his classmates for being willing to share and for listening to differing perspectives, because learning from each other is how we move forward and do better. As I was wrapping up the discussion (which went on much longer than I had intended because it was GOOD), I told the kids we'd have one more comment and then we'd move on. My last commenter said, "Oh gosh, I forgot we were in English class and that we were supposed to be doing work." To which I said, "Y'all, this IS the work! This is what literature is about! If we can't figure out why literature matters to us in our own world, how it speaks to our experience, then those books are just bound paperweights taking up space on the shelves. THIS is why we read." And my kids CLAPPED! My job isn't to tell kids what to think; it's to guide them in having their own conversations and finding their own voice and place in the world. And if I can do that while encouraging them to be good humans to one another (my common mantra is that we can BE BETTER than the people who find satisfaction in haranguing and harrassing others in online comment sections), well, then, that's a good day in the classroom. Critical reading is critical thinking, which leads to critical writing and communicating--and the kids not only need that, they want it.

Farewell Letter to My Seniors

 June 2, 2021

Dear Students,

Well, my friends--you have made it.  This was a year literally unlike any other for all of us.  There was so much we needed to adjust to and recalibrate, again and again, as the year progressed.  Some of us thrived in this new way of doing school, but for many it has been difficult to readjust to our new way of education during the time of the pandemic.  We didn’t always do things the best way, even despite our best intentions. Students and teachers alike made mistakes and had to give ourselves grace for our learning curves. (I think giving ourselves grace and giving others grace might be the most important lesson of all this year.)  For all of us, it probably looked like we were ducks skimming across the pond--seemingly calm and placid on the surface, but kicking furiously and somewhat chaotically below where no one else could see.  Nevertheless, you rose to the challenge and persevered, and I am so very proud of you.  There are many experiences you may feel you missed out on during this senior year, but probably the biggest experience was just the day-to-day social interaction among classmates and between teachers and students.  Trust me when I say that your teachers also missed that interaction dearly.  I missed not getting to see your faces and build an in-person community together throughout the year.  Regardless, we were a community, albeit an online one.  That did not make any of you less important or appreciated in our class.  I value the time I got to spend with each and every one of you.

As we close on this year, I want to offer my sincere congratulations and best wishes for all your future endeavors.   I want you to know you have all made an impact on me, and I am grateful for the opportunity to have taught you (Yes, you—even those of you thinking to yourself, “She probably doesn’t mean me.”  All of you.)  This may not have been your favorite class, or maybe it was.  Regardless, your presence, your insights, and your personalities were all a  part of what made this year a unique and memorable one.  Even through a small screen, I could see your hearts clearly.  You are all amazing human beings with so many possibilities ahead of you.  I hope you trust yourselves to reach out and take advantage of those opportunities ahead, and I hope that you continue to cultivate and foster those friendships and relationships that will be your safety nets when you fall short of your goals.  And you will fall short sometimes--but you will survive.  I know this because you have survived every unknown thrown at you this year. You will recalibrate. You will redouble your efforts. You might even change course.  That’s what growth looks like--finding the path you were meant to travel.  I hope you travel that path with all its twists and turns with joy, with passion, and with kindness to yourselves and those you encounter along the way. 

I wanted to take this time and opportunity to thank you for your contributions and your work, but most especially for the personality you brought that helped shape the community of our classroom.  I wish you success in whatever way you define it, and more importantly, I wish you happiness.  I know I have played this song for you before in class, but I wanted to give you the lyrics as well, as I feel this is pretty appropriate for the occasion; I hope you find the sincerity of the message, from my heart to yours.

Here’s the link to the video.  Watch it--it will make you smile!--and then come back and read the lyrics.  This is what I wish for you always…

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BFkTu8Y1KLs

 

Have It All—Jason Mraz

May you have auspiciousness and causes of success
May you have the confidence to always do your best
May you take no effort in your being generous
Sharing what you can, nothing more nothing less

May you know the meaning of the word happiness
May you always lead from the beating in your chest
May you be treated like an esteemed guest
May you get your rest, may you catch your breath

May the best of your todays be the worst of your tomorrows (wohoh)
May the road less paved be the road that you follow (wohoh)

Well, here's to the hearts that you're gonna break
Here's to the lives that you're gonna change
Here's to the infinite possible ways to love you
I want you to have it

Here's to the good times we're gonna have
You don't need money, you got free pass
Here's to the fact that I'll be sad without you
I want you to have it all

Ohh! I want you to have it all
I want you to have it (all)
I want you to have it all

May you be as fascinating as a slap bracelet
May you keep the chaos and the clutter off your desk
May you have unquestionable health and less stress
Having no possessions though immeasurable wealth

May you get a gold star on your next test
May your educated guesses always be correct
And may you win prizes, shining like diamonds
May you really own it each moment to the next

May the best of your todays be the worst of your tomorrows (wohoh)
May the road less paved be the road that you follow (wohoh)

Well, here's to the hearts that you're gonna break
Here's to the lives that you're gonna change
Here's to the infinite possible ways to love you
I want you to have it

Here's to the good times we're gonna have
You don't need money, you got free pass
Here's to the fact that I'll be sad without you
I want you to have it all

Ohh! I want you to have it all
I want you to have it
I want you to have it all

Oh ho! I want you to have it
Oh ho! All you can imagine
Oh ho! No matter what your path is
If you believe it then anything can happen

Go go go! Raise your glasses!
Go go go! You can have iiiiiiit all!

I toast you!

I want you to have it all.

 

            Come back and visit every now and again, send me an email, or catch up with me via social media  (FB, Twitter, Instagram).  I would love to keep in touch with you as you head off on to the next chapter of your book.  May you write your dreams into the story of your life.

                                                            With love,

                                                            Ms. Lutjens

 

Considering the Social and Emotional Well-Being of all of Our Students

 April 23, 2021

The emotional impact of online learning has been a concern for a great many parents and educators in this past year.  As we have been in various forms of lockdown, including the closure of many school buildings for months on end, some of our students have sunk into depression, anxiety, and lack of motivation to sit in front of screens to complete their work in this most abnormal of situations.  These are very real concerns; some of our students have been hit incredibly hard by the uncertainty of the circumstances in which we find ourselves, and the loss of connections with friends who would typically have been lifelines during a regular crisis.  This, however, was no ordinary crisis. Our pandemic simultaneously created one of the biggest challenges in students' lives and cut off the social system of support by which navigating this crisis might have been made more manageable.  We all know that our friends and families help buoy us and bring joy and comfort when things are difficult--and yet students, like the rest of us--could only see their friends through the little screens on their phones, which is a poor substitute for a well-timed hug or just the joy of hanging out together, communing in band or choir or robotics or football or any number of other activities that join like-minded spirits.  There is no underestimating the impact of the social nature of school as a balance for the work at hand.  (In this regard, adults are not so different.  If we are truly fortunate, we have friends with whom we work who make our days brighter and well, more fun as we take on some of the more mundane and monotonous aspects of our jobs.)  To state the obvious, being with friends makes life better.

So it's no surprise that parents were loudly and angrily advocating for bringing their kids back on campus.  "Open up the schools! Our children are suffering!"  And they had a point.  Many children were suffering, and as parents we desperately want to help make things right for our babies.  In a world where Covid-19 was raging out of control, and businesses were being shut down, and normalcy was on hold, parents sought to move the needle on at least one thing that might make them feel like they had some control in a world where control was spiraling mostly out of reach--putting pressure on school boards to open up the school buildings and let the kids and the teachers back in.  As is often the case where people feel like there is a lack of control, there was often misplaced hostility and anger.  There were teachers who felt that with skyrocketing infection rates, we should not be so hasty to move back into the buildings.  Those teachers were met with accusations of laziness and apathy toward their beloved students.  Teachers didn't create the virus or the mandates that the school buildings shut down, and every teacher I know desperately wanted to see their kids.  However, many teachers didn't think they should have to assume the risk of coming down with the virus--or worse yet infecting their own children or parents--when our health officials were pleading with everyone to stay home to mitigate the spread.  Still, there were those who believed that it was our responsibility to take on that risk.  One parent at a local board meeting said, "I know teachers will get sick.  That's a risk I'm willing to take.  Open up the schools!"  He said he was willing to take the risk of me getting sick.  How is that a risk for him?

Yes, I agree that the pandemic has been mentally and emotionally difficult on a great number of people, our students included.  However, it is a bit of a misstep to say that it created a mental health crisis among our youth.  We already had alarming suicide rates and issues of self-harm.  We already had huge numbers of students who dealt with anxiety and depression and bullying and negative self-image and abuse.  What was different?  Being at home and away from a social support system was new and jarring to many of our students, who had been thriving in the traditional system, so their depression and anxiety was new to them--and their parents.  Some kids who had always done well in school were suddenly not keeping up in classes and were suffering mentally, and that was understandably frightening for parents.  On the other hand, we had many kids who were thriving in the online format precisely because they didn't have to deal with the daily bullying or constant reminders that they lacked a social circle and support system.  They were thriving because they didn't have to deal with the sometimes paralyzing anxiety of being in a classroom with people they felt didn't like them or know them or even see them, because they felt like they didn't belong.  Some of those kids could actually relax and focus on the learning in front of them, because the daily social anxieties were no longer a distraction.  We have always had a mental health crisis in our schools.  The difference with the pandemic was that it was different kids who were struggling, and some of those parents saw it first hand in their own homes for the first time this year.

As we have slowly moved back into opening up the buildings and bringing students back on campus, I think it's important to step back and look at the big picture.  We have an opportunity here to really make some important changes to an antiquated system--one that assumes a one-size-fits-all approach is workable and effective.  There have been so many who are pushing hard to go back to normal as soon (or sooner) as possible for the students who have struggled without the structure and security they've always known in their educational experiences.  But just like online learning didn't meet the social and emotional needs of all of our students, neither does the old system of school fit everyone's needs.  Why, then, are we so eager to push everyone back into the old model?  Why are we not looking forward, instead of backward? And yes, we do have structures in place for non-traditional learners and needs, but up until now--and moving forward again if we don't address it--those structures for the 'others' have been marginalized, looked down upon, and deemed only a last resort for the outcast.  It's time to celebrate and explore a variety of paths as important and viable educational options. We can and should create real opportunities to offer well-supported avenues of true educational experiences that meet the needs of all of our kids without making them feel 'less than' if they don't fit into the model that was devised to meet the needs of 17th century America. We live in an ever-changing, digitally connected world.  Our children's learning within four walls of a classroom at a prescribed time each weekday shouldn't be the 'correct' way to conduct our school; it should be only one way, and it certainly shouldn't be privileged over other ways to engage and connect simply because it's the system that looks familiar and is comfortable for the adults with the decision-making power.   

Learning Loss in the Time of the Pandemic

 April 21, 2021

Over the course of this past year of the pandemic, one of the greatest concerns I hear many people sharing is the issue of learning loss.  Some students didn't go to school at all at the end of the year last year either virtually or in person.  Some students haven't set foot in a classroom since last March and are continuing all of their education online for the whole of this school year.  And that has many parents (and some teachers) worried about what that will look like when kids return to whatever sense of normalcy we are striving to return to in our educational system. "Our kids are falling further and further behind," is the resounding lament.  "Our kids have lost a whole year of education!"

Falling behind.  Behind whom?  The reality is that yes, many of our kids have not had the full curriculum generally ascribed to a particular year or grade level in school, though it is woefully inaccurate to say that students have gotten no education in the past year.  (I say this as I know every colleague I know is working endlessly to try to reach and teach our kids in person, on zoom, and more often than not, both simultaneously.)  However, this is true of districts across our county, our state, our country, our world.  This was a global health crisis that affected the normalcy of life worldwide, including the landscape of education.  So if time stopped educationally for a year (it didn't), or even slowed somewhat, it in effect did so for ALL of us.  So where are the people who are speeding ahead of the rest of our students as all of this learning loss is taking place? I would even argue that schools across the world that opened up in person in some form before our school did were still wrestling with issues of social and emotional well-being in the wave of this pandemic that superseded some of the traditional learning.  Our kids are not falling behind other kids.

Perhaps what is meant instead is that our kids are falling behind the prescribed timetable of learning.  In first grade, one learns this.  In fifth grade, one learns that.  By eleventh grade, one should have learned these.  Yes, we have these parameters and benchmarks in place.  We have goals and articulated frameworks by which our students are intended to progress.  Goals are good and they are necessary. But they are created by humans.  They are artificial and moveable.  Grade level goals and standards, at the site, state, and federal level have been modified many times, in response to student achievement, educational access, and intellectual/emotional development and maturation.  Every time those achievement goals are modified in keeping with current understanding of all of those factors, the system has adjusted--from grade-level expectations, to standardized testing, to higher education requirements.  These benchmarks are not set in stone; they are man-made and can certainly be readjusted to reflect a realistic response to a global event that affected all of us, including our school-aged children.

I am not suggesting that we go backward, or that we throw out all the articulation that has been done from grade level to grade level in our schools.  But a slight readjustment of the traditional curricular plan might not be such a terrible response.  Nor would it tragic.  Nor would it be especially difficult. Nor would it be permanent, as these goals and benchmarks do, and have, changed over the years.  We have created these timelines, and we are creating a false sense of panic if we lament over the fact that students might fall slightly short of these yearly goals this year and next when we are the ones who can easily redraw the lines of demarcation.

Regardless of whether or not we do, in fact, reconstruct our current construct, we teachers will continue to do what we have always done in our classrooms:  figure out where our kids are, meet them there, and do all that we can to bring them forward to the next levels of learning, understanding, and processing.  I don't worry about learning loss in my classroom; I'm too focused on learning growth.

Why Start a Union?

 April 9, 2021

A couple of days ago, I was accused-not for the first time this school year- of being selfish and of not caring for the students I teach.  It's a hurtful accusation, and couldn't be further from the truth.  Anyone who knows me knows I love my kids, and I love my job and my school dearly.  I want to see my students grow and thrive.  I worry about them when I know they are struggling.  And we've all been struggling this year.  It's been a tough one.  I have spent hundreds of hours transferring lessons and activities into digital files, planning and creating new content to address the very real social and emotional struggles my students have been dealing with this year, learning new digital platforms, zooming during class hours and during tutoring and parent meetings, grading online until my eyes burned, and answering emails at all hours of the day and night.  I am exhausted, and have much worse vision than I did at the start of this pandemic.  Why?  Because I do care about them-- and I want them to know it, without a doubt.

So why have I been accused of not caring about my students?  Well, as best as I can tell, the reason is two-fold.  The first is that last summer and fall, as the pandemic was growing out of control and there was no vaccine in sight, I advocated for following CDC, state, and local guidelines for the shutdown of schools.  (Shutdown of schools, by the way, is a misnomer; the buildings were closed, but the business of school was very much alive and well in our district.)  As a cancer survivor and the sole caretaker of my 92-year-old grandmother, I didn't think it unreasonable that I should be able to take all the safety precautions recommended by doctors and scientists.  The second reason for the accusation is my involvement with and support for a teachers' union in our district.  The perception of some is that if I am advocating for a union, it is because I am only interested in putting my own needs in front of those of my students.  However, the needs of students and the needs of teachers are not mutually exclusive; they are both important factors that foster an effective and robust learning environment.

I have been a high school teacher in my district for 30 years.  The primary purpose of our vocation is to model and foster critical thinking skills.  I want my students to be critical consumers of information in all its forms in order to better inform themselves, solidify their own understanding of the values in which they believe, and situate themselves in positions to not only be self-advocates, but to be advocates for others who might not have a voice in the conversation.  How strange, then, to think that there are those who feel putting myself and fellow educators in positions to have a voice is somehow considered selfish.

Our district prides itself on promoting a growth mindset and celebrates a life-long learner.  As our district has continued to grow and evolve, our core values have remained constant, and that's important to me.  What has evolved, however, is the way in which we seek to achieve and maintain those core values.  As a life-long learner, I have continued to seek knowledge about both my profession and my district.  As someone who values a growth mindset,  I have seen a need for change in the conversations in our district.  We have a body that has been an informational conduit for teachers' voices, but is no longer able to be an effective part of the decision-making process.  I respect and appreciate the work that these teachers have done on behalf of the teachers they represent, but the time has come for teachers' voices to be part of the team of decision-makers, rather than a voice that is easily pushed aside when deemed inconsequential by those who actually make the decisions.  I don't advocate for this voice because I am angry or because I don't like the school or district in which I work.  I enjoy positive relationships with the administration at my site, as well as many educators in the upper administration in my district.  I don't seek a voice in order to be adversarial; I seek a voice through the union because by nature I am collaborative, and I feel the best way to make important decisions is by collaborating with everyone who should be part of the conversation--not just sometimes, and not just when it's easy--all the time.

Change is hard.  It can be scary, especially because there are a lot of unknowns.  If nothing else, this year of the pandemic has taught us that.  There are people who fear that an outside entity coming in (CTA) will make us change our values and abandon our dedication to the children of this district.  This union is US--teachers who work in our district, care about our students here in Clovis, know and love the values of this district.  We, the teachers and educators in our district, would be the ones making decisions about what priorities we want to advocate for to support our students and our educators.  There are some who think teachers will want to advocate for staying online. Now that the vaccine has become available and infection numbers are low, I can't imagine that most teachers in the district would want to advocate for that because we LOVE to see our kids in our classrooms, face-to-face.  It's why we went into the educational field; it's why we stay here.  I have many conservative friends who worry that their union dues will go to support political candidates or issues they don't support.  I absolutely respect that--I don't want my dollars going to support something in which I don't believe either.  You are able to opt out of those political contributions.  There are those who worry that a teachers' union seeks to be the ONLY voice in the conversation--at the expense of students, parents, and even administration.  We don't want to be THE voice; we want to be one of the voices.  

We are in the classroom, day after day, and can see firsthand how a particular program or curriculum might benefit our students.  We can see how much more often we can engage with and support our students in a classroom with a manageable number of students.  We can advocate for additional systems that can help support our students' academic growth and emotional well-being.  And yes, we can even advocate for a more comparable salary schedule to compete with similar or nearby districts. It's important to have people in the decision-making process who see the big picture--the needs of the district as a whole.  But having people who are in the individual classrooms working with our kids Monday-Friday also share what our kids need on the ground level is vitally important to continued growth and change in this district.  It's an important balance.

I know not everyone supports a union in this district.  There are differing opinions as to how to go about achieving and maintaining excellence.  That's okay.  I recognize that those who are advocating for something different are advocating out of the same love for the kids that I have.  I would never disparage the character of someone who believes, with good intent, that a different path for our district is a more beneficial one.  We just have different ideas about how to go about supporting our kids, our teachers, and our schools.  All I ask, at the end of the day, is that you learn about the options with an open mind, recognize the perspective of all those involved even if you don't agree with them, and try not to assume negative intentions.  We are all here for our kids.

Wish Us Luck (And Good Health)

 January 3, 2021

Nearly ten months ago, our school shuttered its doors in the wake of the beginnings of the global pandemic that has gripped the world since.  California was aggressive early on in attempting to get things under control, and for awhile it did, in fact, seem as if we had 'flattened the curve'.  As weeks dragged into months, and people began to suffer ill effects of the shut down--stress, anxiety, financial burden--most of us wanted nothing more than to 'get back to normal'.  The thing is, much as we would like to just decide to make things the way they were before, we're not actually in control of that.  Although for a time it seemed like we were starting to gain the upper hand, the holidays rolled around, and many people, starved for human connection and family togetherness and traditions, decided to risk the spread of Covid.  After all, there were still lots of people who proclaimed proudly that they didn't even know anyone who knew anyone who had gotten Covid.  Theories abounded about whether or not it actually existed, or if it was simply another flu, nothing to worry about.  What harm could it do?  And then numbers started to spike again, and our hospital ICUs were stretched unimaginably thin.

Most schools, whether elementary, secondary, or post-secondary, have made the decision to remain online until the end of this school year.  There's just such a big risk of sending everyone back all at once, and certainly the possibility of having to shut down again when outbreaks occur undermines stability and consistency.  Our district, however, has determined that our students will be back this semester, despite the positivity rate being higher than it was when we shut down, higher than it was at the beginning of the school year.  And honestly, I understand that many parents are frustrated, and some teachers are too.  I mean, we got into education because we love working with our kids and developing the kinds of connections that we can make working day after day, face-to-face. Education via zoom is different, and it doesn't work for everyone, not to mention it's been a fast and furious learning curve for all involved.  There are kids who are struggling.  (Of course, in-person doesn't work for everyone either, but since that's the traditional educational system, we want to push those kids back into a system that doesn't work for them because that's the way school is 'supposed' to be.)  

So here we are--here I am--getting ready to walk back into the building where I have worked for the past 30 years, but have only stepped foot in perhaps 5 times in the past ten months.  Because I am a cancer survivor, and because I am the sole caretaker for my 92-year-old grandmother, I am one of a great many teachers who were granted permission to conduct our zoom classes from home this school year.  That ends tomorrow.  The return of our students has been delayed for two weeks due to a recommendation from the County Health Office, but all of us who had a remote work agreement must report to the building to teach second semester.  This has given me anxiety not just for me and my family, but for all the healthcare workers who are already exhausted and overworked, and for whom another spike will only mean an even greater strain on them.  Voicing my concern has caused people to call me selfish, to say I don't care about my students, or even to say I just feel like 'not working' while continuing to get paid.  I have had people tell me that because I worry about the ramifications of sending everyone back to school, that that somehow means I have no concern for those who have jobs where they are required to continue to work in the face-to-face world throughout this pandemic.  All of those accusations are absolutely untrue.  It's sad that our world has become so divisive that everything comes down to an either/or, us-versus-them proposition.  I can care about my health, my colleagues' health, my community, and my students all simultaneously.  (I'm great at multi-tasking like that.)

So tomorrow is the day.  I'll head into my classroom, keep my head low (difficult for a social butterfly like me), keep my distance, and keep my mask on.  When the kids come back in two weeks, I hope there are enough safety measures in place to keep us all healthy.  So far the biggest argument in bringing kids back to campus is that 'kids aren't spreading the virus'.  I can't help but wonder if that's because, you know, the kids haven't been in school to spread it to each other (or to their teachers, or older family members).  Time will tell.  Wish me luck.  All of us- your teacher friends, classified staff, and the students--could use your well-wishes.

Finding the Sunlight in the Shift

March 23, 2020

I absolutely believe that we find what we seek, and that we see the world through lenses that focus us on either the positive or the negative, depending on our chosen perspective.  Looking for the positive is a conscious choice.   As we continue to hunker down during our "Shelter in Place" to stop the spread of COVID-19, this continues to be true.  Of course, the world of Coronavirus is frightening and has upended our way of operating.  We have changed what normal looks like, and there are challenges and anxiety with those changes.  However, just because one acknowledges the uncertainty and stress in our current circumstances doesn't mean one can't look for and be bolstered by some of the positive outcomes we've seen as a result of our new normal.

First and foremost, we've seen an incredible dedication by many of the professionals in fields that are necessary to weather this storm:  our medical professionals who put themselves on the front line to keep us healthy and safe, the folks who are working overtime to make sure food and other necessities remain available to everyone, and the businesses who have come through for their people in order to support them with continued paychecks and health coverage, even when they may not be able to work. (We see you, and we're watching how you respond.)

In the world of education the shift has been sudden, but administrators, educators, and students have jumped in to try to create an online environment where learning still takes place. It's taken flexibility and creativity, and both teachers and students alike are doing what it takes to make the learning curve surmountable.  I have been incredibly impressed with the ongoing communication from our administrators and the support they have offered in moving our content online.  Our students, too, are wanting to make the shift so that they are not missing out on classes or learning opportunities.  Teachers--every one I've spoken with--know that there is no substitute for the kinds of relationships that are built in a face-to-face classroom, which is a huge reason many of us step foot in our classrooms day after day and year after year.  However, knowing that we have fostered those relationships in the months leading up to our grand societal shift means that our kids know how much they mean to us, and know that we are working hard to maintain those relationships while supporting their learning in whatever way that learning takes shape during this global crisis.

There are those who have looked down on some celebrities for not acknowledging their privilege when they post positive messages online.  Not everyone can simply enjoy 'time off' when worried about making a rent payment, or worried about how to get the food on the table, or even worried about how to get medical care for a loved one who is falling ill.  I get that.  There are people who do, in fact, have more privilege and therefore can take some things for granted that others cannot.  I don't, however, believe that negates their ability to spread a little bit of positivity and light when they gather their friends virtually to sing and share a song, or read books aloud for children to enjoy.  I appreciate that feeling of shared experience, no matter who is sharing it.

Other positives are the ways every day people have challenged themselves to stay connected and engaged while being sequestered in their homes.  All over you see virtual family game nights, online book clubs and study groups, girlfriends' virtual happy hours, and zoom fitness and yoga classes.  Kids are checking in more with their parents and grandparents in addition to their friends, and parents are finding fun and interesting ways to share meaningful experiences with their kids.  We had Snapchat and Facetime and other versions of meeting one another digitally before, but now that we've had to slow down by necessity, these virtual meet ups are more focused and purposeful, even when the purpose is just fun--a way to pass time. 

For years now we as a society have been lamenting the digital age as an era where our technology has been used as a way to keep many quick, short-term, far away connections alive at the expense of the real, face-to-face, day-to-day deep and meaningful connections to those who are in our close proximity.  Perhaps when life goes back to whatever normal will eventually look like, we will have made another seismic shift in the way in which we use our technology.  It will never be a substitute for a warm hug and in-person connection, but we are indeed learning that these tools can be a means of truly bringing people together in ways which haven't been fully embraced until now.  And I believe that's a positive outcome we can all embrace.

Teachers, Check On Your Friends

March 19, 2020

I went to work yesterday after only two days off in order to meet (remotely) with my team from our individual respective classrooms.  The goal?  Get ourselves situated and be ready to deliver online content (and comfort) to our students for the next two weeks as cautionary measures for COVID-19 continue to ramp up.

My class was my class, minus the life.  My home away from home is exactly that because of the people--my students--with whom I share that space on a daily basis.  Sitting in my classroom alone in these circumstances was a little eerie, to be honest.  It was too quiet.

I am the kind of person often referred to as an ambivert.  There are times when I need space and time alone.  There are arenas where I am quiet, an observer.  I can be quite content as a wallflower or a fly on the wall.  As a shy kid in school, I perfected the art of being invisible when a social situation was overwhelming or daunting.  However, in my space, in my element, I can be quite an extrovert.  I believe in being demonstrative in my affection with those I care about. I am the kind of person who greets her friends with warm hugs or kisses, and who often greets her students with high fives at the door.  In my element, I like to talk-a lot.  Expressively, passionately, wanting to entertain, amuse, inform, and debate. Like many in my profession, I draw joy and energy from the daily interaction with my students--not just the delivery of content, but the connections I make with each of them personally as we grow through our year together.  But I also draw strength and inspiration and joy from talking with and spending time with the other people in my building: the friends with whom I've shared incredible personal and professional triumphs and tragedies across many years.  My colleagues-my friends-are the primary reason I still work on my campus after 29 years.  I love these people.

Sitting in my room--my element--alone, made me acutely aware of a sense of loss, even if only temporarily.  Teachers already know we miss our kids even after only three days.  Yes, even THAT kid.  But those of us who come alive in our classrooms also come alive in the presence of like-minded friends who work together to bring the best school environment for our kids.  The 'work husband' next door who has been your partner in crime (and in laughter) for more than 20 years.  The best friend downstairs you stop in to see most mornings to get your day started off on the right foot, no matter what's happening.  The friend down the hall who calls to you in greeting each period when you are both standing outside the door welcoming the kids into the classroom.  The secretaries who welcome you to the office each morning and share stories to brighten your day.  The administrative leaders on campus who check in regularly to see how they can support you and your students in any way they can.  The incredibly supportive group of girlfriends who make it a priority to meet together outside of school for happy hours, for baby showers, for weddings, for summer beach trips, for book clubs.  The pranksters, the jokesters, the advocates, the intellectuals, the caregivers, and the practical, get-it-done folks.  This is the environment in which I work.  These are the friends who make my every day a joy, in addition to the kids with whom I spend my days.  These aren't just colleagues, they are family.

And suddenly, that close, personal daily contact is gone.  It's necessary, in light of the pandemic, and a very real way to do our part to slow the spread of the virus, but that doesn't make it any easier for those of us who draw strength from that connection.  I am thankful we live in a time where we can still connect through virtual meetings and support each other in that way.  I can still meet, from a safe social distance, with family, dear friends, colleagues, and students.  We have to keep our distance but have already found creative and fun ways to reach out to one another. However, just like distance education is no substitute for the connections that we make in face-to-face interaction with our students, neither is an online meeting the same thing as a hug.  It will have to suffice for now, but depending on how long this lasts, it may deplete the emotional energy of those who need that personal contact in order to recharge their batteries.

It's a strange new world we've suddenly found ourselves in, and that strangeness continues to morph and develop daily.  There are people who are dealing with very real stressors as a result of this, such as the illness itself, loss of income, anxiety over an inability to obtain staples for the home, concern over potential 'shelter in place' orders.  Loss of daily connection and disruption of normal access to support systems is also a very real concern as well.  Check in on your friends, and not just via text.  They want to see your faces, see your smiles, even virtually.  Those people you normally think of as upbeat and positive may still be positive and may very well be still reaching out to help others in whatever capacity they can, but they may not have their normal means of replenishing their energy--and they may not want to show that need to others, so as not to further burden someone else.  And when you run into them in real life--at the grocery store searching for milk or butter, or out in the neighborhood taking a walk because getting a little exercise will release some feel-good endorphins--and they reach out to hug you out of necessity and habit, don't harshly rebuke or chastise them.  Gently remind them that you are practicing social distancing for everyone's health, but don't automatically assume that they are willfully flaunting recommendations.  It's going to take awhile to redirect natural instincts that have, up until now, been positive ways to bolster their mental health and well-being. 

As we navigate this new normal together, whether it be for two weeks, or two months, or six months, it's important to remember that everyone processes trauma and stress in different ways, and that our ways of coping might not be someone else's. It might not be the way our friends need to cope; it may not be the way our students cope.  Our students are missing their friends, but they are also missing their teachers; we teachers are missing our students, but also our friends.  And as many different ways as there are to cope, what we do have in common, all of us, is that we are all human, we are all connected, and we are all here to support each other in the best way we can.

I Love it When I Get a Happy Email

January 17, 2018

Although I finished my Master's degree in December, I have been waiting anxiously for it to officially post.  This week I finally got the notification!

I Like My Dystopia in Fictional Form, Thank You

April 17^, 2017

My favorite genre of literature is dystopian fiction.  Authors create worlds that could be, cautionary tales to warn us away from pitfalls in our present that are driving us forward on a perilous trajectory.  We have not listened, my friends, and now we find our fictional futures colliding frighteningly with our unstable present.  In the words of the prescient authors past and present:

THE NEW STATE OF THINGS

“Sound bytes. Catch phrases. Sales pitches. Words. All lexical legitimizing. ‘A rose by any other name…’ he said. In the end it’s all propaganda.” –J.A. Willoughby, The Promised Land

“…dead to all things but greed and a desire to rule over others.” –Arun D. Ellis, Corpalism

This is a game show to Trump, and has been from the beginning.  He thrives on catch phrases, lives in generalities.  He has eschewed daily briefings because they don’t interest him; he has announced his bafflement at the complex issues he is responsible for when he is made to sit down and listen to the minutiae of the policies he must address.  (Who knew healthcare was so complex?  Everybody. Literally everybody except you.)  He couldn’t even be bothered to be sure about which country he bombed, as a matter of fact, in a show of power.  Did he think about potential consequences? Did he consider the complex political landscape he was walking into? (Not to mention the fact that he had recently declared that Syria needed to attend to their own problems without our interference.)  I mean, who could guess that foreign policy and diplomacy and acts of war could be so complex? Literally everybody, save one, apparently.  Honestly, it’s much more fun to just think about how impressive that giant explosion will be, and damn the consequences!  Desire to rule over others here means a show of force and might, but no real desire for governance for and with the people.

“That was when they suspended the Constitution. They said it would be temporary. There wasn't even any rioting in the streets. People stayed home at night, watching television, looking for some direction.” ― Margaret Atwood, The Handmaid's Tale

There have already been little bends and fissures in the laws in place, including healthcare, LGBT rights, and immigration, not to mention some pretty major reversals of previously hard-won policies.  We’ve lost all semblance of “checks and balances” with a Republican president, and a Republican majority in the House and Senate, as well as a conservative majority sitting on the Supreme Court. (Gorsuch, by the way, was confirmed after the rules were changed to go “nuclear” so that only a majority vote was necessary.  This, just shortly after a highly contentious confirmation hearing for the Education Secretary, DeVos, narrowly passed with a tie-breaking vote by Vice President Pence.)  So despite dragging their feet for months on a confirmation hearing for Obama’s Supreme Court pick, all it took to get the Republican nominee in was changing the rules to suit their plan.  Those in power are making changes to keep themselves in power indefinitely, closing up avenues to challenge that power.  This should be very frightening indeed.  If we continue to sit back and watch it unfold without raising our voices, soon there will be no place at all for our voices.  Once power is lost, it becomes that much more difficult to regain.

“He who controls the past controls the future. He who controls the present controls the past.”— George Orwell, 1984

            Trump’s heightened paranoia of his media coverage has become slightly ominous and threatening.  If he gets to ultimately decide which media is “real” (Fox News, Breitbart) and which media is “fake” (every other media outlet), he is effectively proclaiming that his truth, his reality, is the only one that matters. One of the hallmarks of our democracy is our multiplicity of viewpoints and our access to free press—that is, press that is not forcibly controlled by our government in order to narrowly define and disseminate state approved sound-bytes and propaganda.  Continuing to foster a hostile stance against free press and using the office of the president to attack any news source that dares to question or hold him accountable for his actions or his words is merely laying the groundwork for the hostile takeover of public information.

HOW DID WE GET HERE?

“He hadn’t realized that the ordinary little things that happened, the ones that took place between the big events while waiting for something more exciting to happen – they were the most important, after all.” ― Helen Smith, The Miracle Inspector

“There was protest...There were those who knew. Who saw what was coming. But their voices were mere whispers in a crowd of roaring discontent. The surrender of freedom came in subtle stages, not with an explosive arrival.” –Bard Constantine, Silent Empire

We have spent years languishing in complacency as a society.  We have the most abysmal voter turnout in democratic nations.  We do not seek out active roles in our own governance; we do not educate ourselves about the issues that regulate our world.  We give over—we have given over—our power to others who seem more invested and interested, and we go on about our lives, confident that things will work out.  And mostly, until now, they have.  There were some small things, and even some slightly bigger things, in the running of our country, that I might have disagreed with here and there.  On the whole, though, I was satisfied, and my life didn’t alter significantly when a new law was passed or a new representative hung his name plate on his office in the House.  And we got too comfortable.  I got too comfortable.  By the time I realized it was time to call the fire department, the whole house was engulfed.  In hindsight, I smelled the smoke; I felt a little warm.  I didn’t, however, gather the neighbors and sound the alarm before it got out of control.  Hindsight does not help us—and here we are.  (Months after the election, Trump himself is the one who can’t seem to let it go.  He also seems to think any protest is “paid for” by…who knows? How is it possible that he can’t fathom people coming together of their own volition to express dissatisfaction? His narcissism makes it impossible for him to see dissent, and the people with whom he surrounds himself provide a protective bubble to engender that viewpoint.)

CONSEQUENCES

 “When a man cannot choose, he ceases to be a man.”—Anthony Burgess, A Clockwork Orange

“I never thought it would get this bad. I never thought the Reestablishment would take things so far. They're incinerating culture, the beauty of diversity. The new citizens of our world will be reduced to nothing but numbers, easily interchangeable, easily removable, easily destroyed for disobedience. We have lost our humanity.” ―Tahereh Mafi, Shatter Me

 

We have lost funding to Planned Parenthood, and the government continues to dismantle healthcare that will deny coverage to millions if they are successful.  Funding for schools, arts, and social programs are all on the chopping block in favor of funneling unimaginable dollars into an already massive military budget, because that’s what Trump believes equates to power—force and might, not humanity and culture.  This is the path he has chosen for us, but I refuse to be reduced to a number.  I will continue to fight for the beauty of diversity and the humanity that is in us all. This is what I choose.

“For if leisure and security were enjoyed by all alike, the great mass of human beings who are normally stupefied by poverty would become literate and would learn to think for themselves; and when once they had done this, they would sooner or later realise that the privileged minority had no function, and they would sweep it away. In the long run, a hierarchical society was only possible on a basis of poverty and ignorance.” –George Orwell, 1984

My bias may be showing here, but this is where the importance of education comes in, both formal and informal.  We have to ensure that the populace has the security of a humane life and has access to education to become critical thinkers and consumers of information in our world, so that we are not beholden only to the information the Man Behind the Curtain wants to show us, but rather that we are all able to discern and evaluate and assess on our own.  We need to right the ship of power once again so that the people are the captain and the president is the one following their commands, rather than the other way around.  Our President and our elected officials are our crew; we cannot abdicate our responsibility in telling him how we want to sail the ship.  As of now, we have a mutiny afoot, and we have to wrest control back before we lose it altogether.  An ignorant populace breeds fear, contempt, and hostility; an educated one recognizes that gain for each is a gain for all and seeks to uplift and help one another for the greater good.  A “leader” who is more interested in maintaining power than in his constituents will do all in his power to foster the former and not the latter.

WHAT DO WE DO NOW?

“Ignoring isn’t the same as ignorance, you have to work at it.”—Margaret Atwood, The Handmaid’s Tale

“There’s a big difference between being numb to something and being immune to it.”
― Michael Monroe, Afterlife

“Nature never appeals to intelligence until habit and instinct are useless. There is no intelligence where there is no need of change.”—H.G. Wells, The Time Machine

It’s tough in today’s world to be disaffected, to be ignorant, but some people still work at it.  We simply can’t afford it.  Being numb to what is going on doesn’t mean we won’t feel the consequences, and they are likely to get much, much worse before they get better.  It’s now several months in, and some are weary of the continued calls to contact your representatives, or to get out for the mid-year elections, or to continue to write and speak your mind.  They’re counting on that.  They want us to become accustomed to the new normal, to sink into acceptance.  We’ve done that for too long, and that stakes are far too high.  The battle will be won with perseverance and persistence, not force.

“We can't be confined to one way of thinking, and that terrifies our leaders. It means we can't be controlled. And it means that no matter what they do, we will always cause trouble for them.” –Veronica Roth, Divergent

“You cannot buy the revolution. You cannot make the revolution. You can only be the revolution. It is in your spirit, or it is nowhere.”—Ursula K. LeGuin, The Dispossessed

 “There has to be beauty left in the world, Julia," said Kiyu. "Otherwise we have nothing.”
― Erica Lindquist, Whisperworld

We can’t be controlled.  We can’t wait for the revolution and the resistance to come from somewhere else.  It has to begin with us; it must continue with us.  That, after all, is the beauty left in the world—us.  The individual.  The humanity in us all.