We are what we pretend to be...

(My initial timeline, the assignment that determined the eventual flow in SI.)

Kurt Vonnegut, one of my favorite authors, no longer among the living, begins the introduction of his timeless text Mother Night with the following statement:

“This is the only story of mine whose moral I know. I don't think it's a marvelous moral, I simply happen to know what it is: “We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful about what we pretend to be.”

Since becoming a teacher, in 1999, I would repeat this prescient declarative to myself and share it with my students. I would pretend to be a master teacher, and they would pretend to be lawyers and actors and doctors and nurses and, God help me, rappers. Eventually, I began to pretend I was an agent of change in the monolithic matrix known as Public Education, with a specialty in “Urban” Education.

It is during these yearly, yearlong exercises of make-believe that, at some point, the hot air is removed from my fancy balloon and I come crashing down back to harsh reality: I am what others perceive that I am, and they are not careful about what they perceive me to be.

This summer, the UNCC Summer Institute 2014 provided plenty of hot air to re-inflate and return aloft my hot air balloon. I can now resume pretending to be a master teacher. It honestly wasn't what I thought it would be; it was better, much better, in ways that I didn't foresee. I entered solely intent on making my students better writers and thinkers. I overlooked the fact that I, too, must improve as well, and my improvement begins with honest writing, something I strayed away from for professional and personal reasons.

Some of these reasons are landmines in this piece. You'll know them when you step on them.

A constant reflection of mine, an insistent inquiry if you will, is why do so many administrators, parents, politicians and citizens shoot the messenger instead of listening to the message? My message, in essence, is that there are many things wrong and utterly broken in public education, particularly as it underserves and mis-educates those who are minorities, those whose socio-economic status is dire, those who are ESL. My intent is to solve the problem through the filter of truth. I may, for example, provide 500 mg of veritas to my principal when I inform him or her that no, all of my AP students will not be scoring 5’s on their AP exam. I may use sugar-coated lower dosages of veritas for marginally delusional parents and Flintstone Chewable veritas for my students--a variety of flavors, too.

A metaphor of my feeling about these anti-agents of change can be found here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qse_wf57tZM

A humongous dose of veritas came in the guise of my book Thoughts and Lamentations of Urban Education. It was a poetic documentation of one year of what me and my friend Ryan Marshall endured and witnessed as "urban" educators. It was our version of the truth, but man, did our admin and parents ever shoot the messengers! The journey started great, but we ended up in HUGE dog houses--and Ryan left education altogether.

https://www.haikudeck.com/copy-of-lamentations-uncategorized-presentation-sViwauhzDr

Instead of being grateful for the truth, I become the target for which they cast their knives and darts and spears and aspersions. Really, is this the thanks I get?

So, in addition to how I can make my students better writers, I wanted to know if I should resume the role as harbinger of all-things still afflicting all stakeholders?

I received several epiphanies along the way. One such moment occurred during our trip to Imaginon. Of all the stamps in the world, this was the one that literally spoke to me.
It said "Speak the truth." 

Another kiss from God was "The Danger of a Single Story" video. Somewhere in there, honesty as a writer came across to me--as well as the pretext we place on each other based on a single story (stereotype, generalization). Chimamanda Adichie's quest for her cultural voice is a journey shared by many writers, including me. We must embrace the journey.



Still, what would fellow educators in the G+ community think of my bits of veritas? I loaded up some samples: One was entitled "Child." I wanted to see if I would be excoriated for a poetic representation of what I see daily in my class room.

I got some hits!

I thought hey! Try a longer piece--and it too was well received. 

“And Somewhere In There…Teach”

The plan starts off

Simple: Teach kids

What they should know.

But then Voodoo Math makes a move

To multiply my every movement in class

With countless grains of improvement sand

Leaving me in a desert of despair

Location “Nowhere Near Teaching,”

Situation “How Did I Get Here?”

When above all, the plan is simple:

Teach kids what they should know

It starts with a week of meetings

Before the semester even begins

Robbing us of prep time for our classes

Much to our chagrin

It continues with the breakdown of

Copiers—1 of 2 types:

1 has a programmed limit of copies

You can copy

And the other 1 breaks down

All the time.

Now add

Gentle admonishment to

“Use overhead projector more!”

Complicated by the edict

“Use more technology in the classroom!”

Here’s a hint: A light bulb projecting a barely legible

Graphic organizer on a raggedy screen

Is not 2010 technology—but the projector bulb blows out anyway,

And so now I’m stuck with

Dry erase markers, no copies,

No technology—But somewhere in there…teach

It continues with

Additional training:

Acquaint yourself with the grading software,

Attendance software,

And software to track academically

Students who aren’t academically

Qualified to be in the magnet school

In the first place. Now you

Understand how to enter grades, attendance,

And excuses;

Sexual harassment training;

Curriculum websites, personal websites,

Websites of professional interest—but somewhere in there…teach.

It continues with

Additional jobs and duties:

Watch kids during lunch;

Walk the halls during prep;

Call parents, mail tardy letters to parents,

Mail absence letters to parents,

Mail failing letters to parents;

Return e-mail;

Send home homework to students whose stupidity

Got them suspended in the first place;

Watch the bus lot;

Watch the parking lot;

Sponsor a student group;

Tutor kids before school;

Tutor kids after school;

Clean your room when the custodian “forgets to”;

—But somewhere in there…teach.

Eventually,

You realize that

Your paper-chase

In the long run is

Sound and fury signifying nothing.

You are the idiot telling the tale

Of NCLB in order not to fail

Any child.

Eventually you realize that

You have to make a choice:

Either do what they ask you to do,

Or do what you have to do…

To teach somewhere in there.

So there I was: re-engaged with my own writing!

Maybe I should complete a sequel to T&L--or maybe I should produce a new piece same topic, different genre!

After this Institute, I now feel (again!) how I want my students to feel about writing. How could I not return to my room a better teacher? 

I've got more activities for them!

I've got more Ice-Breaking Improvs for them!

I've got more non-essay  assessments for them! 

More goals? Of course!



My goal is to reclaim the teaching profession, as mentioned in Diane Ravitch's blog:

http://dianeravitch.net/2014/07/13/teacher-how-we-lost-our-profession/

My goal is to return even bolder with the truths of my job.

My goal is to return as a better instructor of writing.

My goal is to issue this reality: The vast majority of teachers are simple people valiantly attempting to master a complex, if not impossible job, in environments ranging from hostile to surreal, with the rules of engagement undermining most real attempts of actual instruction. The two minorities of teachers are the rarefied Super-Teacher—you know, cartoonishly selfless, spends 50% of a paycheck on supplies, students score extremely high growth every year, whose students love all lessons and are constantly in motion with some darling strategy du juor, attends all meetings, visits and calls all parents weekly, yada-yada-yada—and the Bad Teacher who actually cannot teach a fish to swim or even get wet. What politicians and parents and bureaucrats and bean-counters believe is that the majority of teachers are actually Bad Teachers needing to transform into Super-Teachers, and as a result, the majority of teachers are treated like something that the cat dragged in. We should all be—not imitate or emulate or strive to be, actual transform physically and assume clone status and become—the clichéd Super-Teacher—and do all of this without raises, with salaries well below what any math or science or business teacher could garner outside of education in their actual fields of study, without complaining, with the presumption that you took a vow of poverty to teach kids Algebra or English.

SI showed me a variety of ways to write and document public education's shameful condition? Now, first of all, who wants to improv?

The G+ Roundup: Our Summer Institute

When I look back over the G+ community, it feels a bit surreal. Did we really do all THAT in just three weeks? As a community, we have created something pretty amazing.

When I look back, I see teachers finding their identities as writers and also understanding more clearly our roles as teachers. The intersections of our experiences reveal so much about the big picture of teaching writing.

I see big ideas and thought-provoking activities, leading to people making big self-discoveries or realizations, as writers and teachers.

I see moments of "wobble", insecurity, vulnerability, frustration, and uncertainty, answered by a supportive, honest, intelligent community.

I see so much silliness! Humor that breaks the tension, makes light of our worries, and forges stronger bonds between us.

I see a whole lot of making. 

I see a diverse bunch of people bringing their individual experiences to the table every day, exploring new and uncharted territory, supporting and challenging each other along the way. My favorite thing, I think, has been to witness the many ways we process and engage in shared experiences. I have learned so much from you all! Thank you for sharing.

As I reflect back on our three weeks in the SI, and I scroll the amazing content we have generated as a group, I am truly grateful for my time here. We are writers. We are teachers. We are makers. We are comedians. We are friends. We are a community. One that I hope will be intact for many years to come.

Demo reflections

What a relief to have finished my demo.  My inquiry question started as how can we integrate writing into our science curriculum, but what I discovered is that the writing is already in science.  My new question is how can we embrace the writing that already takes place in science? 

We brought up an interesting point about how to take that formal, technical science writing and turn it into something that non science people can read and understand.  I feel this illustrates one of the reasons it is so important for scientist to be able to write in other genres.  I think it presents an opportunity for overlap between science and English classrooms.

I am still wondering how to work writing into our Discovery Place classes since we have so little time with our students.  I have found that the classes that have a written element whether it's recording observations or data the students seem more focused.  I have observed that writing their findings and predictions helps keep my students on task and less time hitting each other with gaur tails.

I'm interested to see what other suggests and feedback I have on my demo.  Hopefully there will be some ideas to help with my inquiry.

What's OUR Motivation?

Motivation:

During the second demo of the day, the question was raised by our lead facilitator Erin: What motivates our children to become better students, better writers? As teachers quick to respond often do, we listed quite a few of tangible motivations for our students. The list listed money, free-time, technology, real audience, choice, passion, relationships, self-regulation, control, level of engagement, quality of instructor.

Quality of instructor. That was the phrase that turned the course of conversation away from our students and toward ourselves—our all too human selves. Quality of instruction: That’s me; that’s us. We’re here at SI to become even better—more efficacious—as instructors of writing and reading and all things English. At SI, all in the name of self-improvement, we tell our spouses and children “Leave me alone! I have homework!"

Oh, the irony!

So what if our quality of instruction is negatively affected by our lack of motivation? And what is it that motivates us? Well, naturally, better pay and yearly increases in pay—I mean, Duke Energy goes up every year, as does my City of Charlotte water bill, and my income and property and sales taxes, and my medical and auto insurances. So when my pay is frozen 5 out of 6 years, that’s indirectly 5 years of taking a pay cut. And yet, there are those who firmly believe that there was nothing done by me as a teacher during those 5 years to merit an automatic 3% annual raise--in fact, I'm selfish to even think about or publicly request or legislatively supplicate a raise. Asking for a raise makes teachers the bad guy.

In addition to pay increases, teachers want respect from all stakeholders, safe environments to teach, environments without the disruption of malcontents, reasonable expectations of how many phone calls to make a week, a reasonable amount of meetings to attend, and trust. As an homage to A Few Good Men, what do Quite a Few Good Teachers say? “We use words like honor, expectations, discipline, pride, loyalty, integrity—we use these words as the backbone to a life spent teaching the unteachable and the lowly motivated. You critics use 'em as a punchline.”

Thanks for that chestnut, Jack Nicholson. Sadly, teachers are more than a joke; we’re also the punchline, the fall guy, the scapegoat of all that ails education today.

The questions are simple: What must hard-working teachers do to convince more of the public that cost-of-living-allowances (COLA) should be a reasonable expectation for public servants? What can we do to convince the public that it’s not about “job security” but about house and car and apartment security? What can we do to convince people across this state and this great nation that if our politicians can always find a way to increase their salaries, even in recessions, even in the midst of stagnant job growth, why can’t teachers get modest yearly raises--and daily positive affirmations, and a permanent status as a valued employee in an honorable profession?

So yesterday, somewhere in there, somewhere in the casual reference to "teachers need to be paid better," somewhere near the defiant utterance of “I didn’t take a vow of poverty when I became a teacher,” a segue was achieved where we, as SI participants, perhaps for the first time during SI, actively, openly asked each other “What motivates us?”

Write Into the Marathon Day

I am just reflecting on our Marathon Writing Day in uptown.  For me, the most powerful message of the day was when we  were told to go out, write, and pronounce,  "I am a writer!"  Except for school and academic assignments, up to now my writing has been a private affair.  In my mind I haven't really felt I was ready to proclaim my identity as a writer.  It felt intimidating to announce this to the world.  It is exposing myself in a way that I have not been able to
yet.

When my writing group was at the Romare Bearden Park I was so inspired by Granville when he approached a young man next to him and related to him we were writers.  It opened up a dialogue with the young man and it felt natural that we were identifying ourselves as writers.  By the end of our writing session at the park, I was thinking that maybe I am ready to start telling the world that I am a writer.

At the beginning of the day we were given an article to read.  The end of the article discusses to publish our thoughts, even if it is just a few words in a newsletter.  The SI reflections and blogging we are doing have been part of the growth I am experiencing  as a writer. I am part of a community and my words are being shared daily.

I want to try and have the same sense of writing community with my students this year.  I want them to walk out of my classroom and believe that they are "Writers".

Big Ideas and Practical Applications (A Late Blog Post)

As I've been thinking and working through my inquiry questions, I have struggled to move from the big, theoretical questions to the more practical, classroom applications. This is not an uncommon problem for me. I think in theory and global relevance, and then when it comes time to teach something tangible and well, useful, I struggle. I'm bad about overcomplicating.

Karen's demo today addressed a lot of the same questions I grapple with in my classroom. I believe, very strongly, that creativity must be at the heart of our writing, no matter what the genre, form, or audience. We are creative beings--makers, if you will, and the best of our work (whatever that may be) is the stuff that grows out of our individual passion.

What I'm saying is that I don't think there's difference between creative writing and "formal" writing. Because at the source, we are creating. Every time. Now to figure out in-class activities to reinforce this...