While I have been sick for the last couple of weeks, I was not so down and out that I missed the Jeremiah Wright debacle. My father thinks he's a megalomaniac. A lot of Americans--particularly white Americans think he is scary and, sadly for some, by association, so is Barack Obama.
Me, what's my take? I think he is a fossil. A fossil with a big spot-light. A scared fossil. What's a fossil? A dinosaur bone? No, not in this case. It is a person whose thoughts, views and attitude has frozen in time. Often times people of great intellect, who are used to being one of the smartest in the room, can get so wrapped up in their own view of the World, that they come to the conclusion, not consciously, but they come to the conclusion that they have got things figured out. Sometimes, people who are not so bright, come to the same conclusion, but these people are just sad. It is the smart, charismatic fossils, like Wright, who are dangerous. Why? Because people get used to listening to them. They weave a good argument--and you know what for a time--they were right--or at least on to something.
Then what happens? They surround themselves with people who want to hear them. They continue to seek out material to support their views. They think they're right, so why go out and read opposing views?--Obviously those who disagree must be wrong-headed or, perhaps, in Jeremiah Wright's case racist or revisionist--someone who would deny history or its relevance to the modern day society.
But the thing about modern day society is this--every day it is more modern and it some point if you don't continue to evolve with it, you fossilize and you become a characterization of yourself. To bolster your beliefs, and in order to not lose your relevancy, you may start grasping at even more desperate and divisive self-justifying theories or rhetoric. You might become a Jeremiah Wright. Evolve or die.
What happens if Barack Obama becomes the first ever black President of the United States? Wright's fossil will get buried under so many layers of bedrock that no light will ever reach it. If Barack Obama becomes the first ever black President, Wright's call for fight and self-reliance in the face of the racist, dominant society will be rendered far less relevant, because a black man will be the numero uno, top banana, Commander in Chief, first citizen, head dog of our society.
But if Wright can scare the shit out of us white folk--If he can prove that we paint all black folk with the same tainted brush, if he can prove we are all racists who will be unable to tell the difference between Barack Obama and his raving pastor--if he Jeremiah Wright can destroy Barack Obama's bid for the Democratic nomination--then he, Jeremiah Wright is not a fossil. In his own mind, at least, he is a prophet.
My dad is right. This guy is a megalomaniac. Let me be right, too. Help bury this fossil. If you were for Obama before Jeremiah Wright, you need to stick with him. You need to be for Obama now, because if you bestow relevance on this ranting, self-righteous hate-monger, you prove him right. Bury him. Bury him. Vote Obama, people. Because if Jeremiah Wright is right--we're the ones who are wrong.
Saturday, May 03, 2008
I long for food poisening in Peru--My little view of health care Stateside
Where have I been of late? Sick. Not the sniffles, mind you--sick. The real deal. Actually, as I write this, a full 17 days since the initial onset of the headache, a full 16 days since I left school early, because I couldn't push myself to finish the day, I am still running low fevers at night and I am still weak and dizzy when I stand. Monday, come Hell or high water, I will go back to work for a couple of reasons. Firstly, Monday is Cinco de Mayo, and my folklorico dancers will be performing four shows--two of which will require me to drive them to the venue in a nearby town. Secondly, my students have been without a real teacher for too long and I hate the thought of them falling behind because of me. Thirdly, I am going insane. For more than two weeks my main function in life has been keeping my bed from levitating. At least, though I can finally sit up for long periods of time and look at the computer screen without getting a debilitating headache, so I'm back to the blog!
Now, the last time I was really, really completely unable to function sick, I was in Peru and got some sort of viral food poisoning while visiting Machu Picchu. I won't share all the details of what was running out of me from both ends, but let's just say--you don't want to know the details.
Once it was clear that I was not going to be shaking this thing, a doctor was summoned to our hotel. She actually made two trips to see me at the hotel and then I was put into a wheelchair and taken by the doctor, her assistant and one of my traveling companions down the steep, winding pedestrian streets to a little two-bed hospital. I was hooked up to IVs, tested and analyzed and monitored the whole day by the actual doctor. I was only left "alone" with the assistant while the doctor went on another hotel visit for another patient.
There was nothing fancy at this hospital, let me tell you. But I was cared for and monitored. My vitals were taken many times throughout the day. No one was rushing me out. At the end of the day, all the travelers in my group (including my students, because I was "leading" a tour), were heading back to Cusco by train. I was given the option of going back with them or staying the night in the hospital and going back the next morning. By then, I was much better, though my body ached from so much retching earlier in the process. I was still very weak. If I wanted to go back to Cusco, how could I even get to the train? There weren't even any cars--much less an ambulance. No problem. I was wheeled/carried in the chair all the way to the train. The bill--including my Gatorades to go? $138.
The next day, I missed the white water rafting. I needed to rest. And I got a massage to get rid of the aches. And I was fine.
Let's contrast that with my current situation. I knew I had been burning the candle at both ends--teaching, the ballet folklorico and its Spring Show, political involvement, not enough sleep--so when I woke up on Thursday, the 16th with a headache, I figured, I had it coming. I took some Ibuprofen and headed into school. The headache improved, but never went away and whenever I leaned down to pick something up, the pressure was incredible. I dragged myself back in on Friday, but soon it was clear, I was not going to make it. Along with the headache were pains in my neck, joints and leg muscles. I went home early. By Sunday, I was in really bad shape. The pain was worse; I was covered in a rash and my fever was up. The urgent care center sent me to the Emergency Room at the local hospital, Seton Northwest, with possible meningitis.
A CAT scan and a spinal tap later, meningitis was ruled out. What a relief. I knew it was so contagious and I thought about the pregnant girl in one of my ESOL classes and how horrible I would have felt if she'd gotten sick. My blood pressure was very low--not too bad if I was lying down, but sitting up or walking, forget about it. Eventually, they got two reasonable readings in a row--they didn't try walking me again--and I was sent home with a prescription for some heavy-duty pain meds. The plus side of the hospital, I got some pain medication via the IV. A few hours of relative bliss.
Then the post-lumbar puncture headache set in on top of all the other pain. Light hurt. I couldn't read. Even reading the medicine bottles hurt. I could barely sit up. Nausea set in--leading to the vomiting of the pain medication. By Tuesday, the pain was even worse. At my regular doctor, I could not make it back to the exam room without a wheelchair. He diagnosed the post-lumbar puncture headache and gave me some anti-nausea medication. Underlying all this, he thought, was just a nasty virus. If I didn't feel better by Wednesday, I was to go back to the emergency room and get a blood patch. Okay. I went home.
By Wednesday, if it was possible, I was actually worse. Not only could I not hold down the pain medication, I was throwing up the anti-nausea drug, so I had no pain medication in my system, at all. Now, I could not even get to the car to go to the hospital. My husband called an ambulance. Back on the IV. Back on the IV pain meds for a brief time. Apparently, sometimes when spinal taps are performed, you loose too much spinal fluid and you loose pressure in your spinal column and around your brain, leading to the extra bad headache I'd been experiencing since my Sunday trip to the hospital. They took blood from my arm and injected it back into the area where they had removed the spinal fluid. This time they didn't even try to get the top number of my blood pressure over 90. It hit 87 once and they sent me home. I wasn't even sitting up.
And, I was told I should drink lots of fluids. Of course, in the hospital, they put a toilet next to my bed, realizing I couldn't walk to the restroom. Somehow, when I got home, I would magically be able to get myself down the hall to the bathroom again and again--after all, I was drinking my fluids.
Once I had been home for half an hour, all the IV meds were out of my system and I was back to Hell. I told myself that either I would die or I would start to get better, because I couldn't take any more pain. The doctor who had performed the blood patch had told my husband to call if he felt I was not doing better or if there were any problems. He called the hospital and was transfered to countless departments and treated like he was bothering people.
Finally, sometime in the middle of the night--or early morning--I started to take a turn for the better. That was not last Wednesday, that was two Wednesdays ago and last night, I was still running a low fever. I've been back to the doctor. I am supposed to go back in two weeks for more blood work. We'll see.
Now I know that in Peru there are millions of desperately poor people who cannot afford health care. I know that the little two-bed hospital I was in didn't have a CAT-scan machine. I know that. But, I was cared for. I wasn't rushed out. My pain was taken into account and mitigated as best as was possible given what was available. Here, in the United States of America, I was rushed through, spit out and made to suffer needlessly. I don't know if my insurance wouldn't have covered any more care. I don't know if they needed my room in ER, but then no one even asked me if I was willing to pay out of pocket for a few more hours on IV pain medication--and trust me, I would have gladly laid in the hallway or a broom closet, for that matter, with the IV in my arm.
No one knows yet, what exactly was initially wrong with me. Best guess, some mysterious virus that attacked my joints and muscles. But, I can't help but feel that I would have gotten over whatever it was faster, if my body was not put through the additional agony and distress of unneeded pain.
How often do we hear stories of people cut loose from care--even mentally ill discharged earlier than would be recommended-- because insurance has run out or doesn't pay for hospitalizations for certain maladies? Everything is so expensive, partly because of the layers of bureaucracy associated with our over-complicated, ever more expensive insurance. But more than that, our system makes you feel like no one cares if you hurt. I know that during this ordeal, there were a few people who did care, but they had very limited contact with me. There was one person to do my blood work, another for the IV, another one pushed my wheel chair. The people with the warm smiles, all disappeared in moments and those on the end of the phone who didn't want to be bothered with my husband's pleas for help replaced them .
It is a sad commentary, when illness in the United States, makes you nastolgic for food poisoning in Peru.
Now, the last time I was really, really completely unable to function sick, I was in Peru and got some sort of viral food poisoning while visiting Machu Picchu. I won't share all the details of what was running out of me from both ends, but let's just say--you don't want to know the details.
Once it was clear that I was not going to be shaking this thing, a doctor was summoned to our hotel. She actually made two trips to see me at the hotel and then I was put into a wheelchair and taken by the doctor, her assistant and one of my traveling companions down the steep, winding pedestrian streets to a little two-bed hospital. I was hooked up to IVs, tested and analyzed and monitored the whole day by the actual doctor. I was only left "alone" with the assistant while the doctor went on another hotel visit for another patient.
There was nothing fancy at this hospital, let me tell you. But I was cared for and monitored. My vitals were taken many times throughout the day. No one was rushing me out. At the end of the day, all the travelers in my group (including my students, because I was "leading" a tour), were heading back to Cusco by train. I was given the option of going back with them or staying the night in the hospital and going back the next morning. By then, I was much better, though my body ached from so much retching earlier in the process. I was still very weak. If I wanted to go back to Cusco, how could I even get to the train? There weren't even any cars--much less an ambulance. No problem. I was wheeled/carried in the chair all the way to the train. The bill--including my Gatorades to go? $138.
The next day, I missed the white water rafting. I needed to rest. And I got a massage to get rid of the aches. And I was fine.
Let's contrast that with my current situation. I knew I had been burning the candle at both ends--teaching, the ballet folklorico and its Spring Show, political involvement, not enough sleep--so when I woke up on Thursday, the 16th with a headache, I figured, I had it coming. I took some Ibuprofen and headed into school. The headache improved, but never went away and whenever I leaned down to pick something up, the pressure was incredible. I dragged myself back in on Friday, but soon it was clear, I was not going to make it. Along with the headache were pains in my neck, joints and leg muscles. I went home early. By Sunday, I was in really bad shape. The pain was worse; I was covered in a rash and my fever was up. The urgent care center sent me to the Emergency Room at the local hospital, Seton Northwest, with possible meningitis.
A CAT scan and a spinal tap later, meningitis was ruled out. What a relief. I knew it was so contagious and I thought about the pregnant girl in one of my ESOL classes and how horrible I would have felt if she'd gotten sick. My blood pressure was very low--not too bad if I was lying down, but sitting up or walking, forget about it. Eventually, they got two reasonable readings in a row--they didn't try walking me again--and I was sent home with a prescription for some heavy-duty pain meds. The plus side of the hospital, I got some pain medication via the IV. A few hours of relative bliss.
Then the post-lumbar puncture headache set in on top of all the other pain. Light hurt. I couldn't read. Even reading the medicine bottles hurt. I could barely sit up. Nausea set in--leading to the vomiting of the pain medication. By Tuesday, the pain was even worse. At my regular doctor, I could not make it back to the exam room without a wheelchair. He diagnosed the post-lumbar puncture headache and gave me some anti-nausea medication. Underlying all this, he thought, was just a nasty virus. If I didn't feel better by Wednesday, I was to go back to the emergency room and get a blood patch. Okay. I went home.
By Wednesday, if it was possible, I was actually worse. Not only could I not hold down the pain medication, I was throwing up the anti-nausea drug, so I had no pain medication in my system, at all. Now, I could not even get to the car to go to the hospital. My husband called an ambulance. Back on the IV. Back on the IV pain meds for a brief time. Apparently, sometimes when spinal taps are performed, you loose too much spinal fluid and you loose pressure in your spinal column and around your brain, leading to the extra bad headache I'd been experiencing since my Sunday trip to the hospital. They took blood from my arm and injected it back into the area where they had removed the spinal fluid. This time they didn't even try to get the top number of my blood pressure over 90. It hit 87 once and they sent me home. I wasn't even sitting up.
And, I was told I should drink lots of fluids. Of course, in the hospital, they put a toilet next to my bed, realizing I couldn't walk to the restroom. Somehow, when I got home, I would magically be able to get myself down the hall to the bathroom again and again--after all, I was drinking my fluids.
Once I had been home for half an hour, all the IV meds were out of my system and I was back to Hell. I told myself that either I would die or I would start to get better, because I couldn't take any more pain. The doctor who had performed the blood patch had told my husband to call if he felt I was not doing better or if there were any problems. He called the hospital and was transfered to countless departments and treated like he was bothering people.
Finally, sometime in the middle of the night--or early morning--I started to take a turn for the better. That was not last Wednesday, that was two Wednesdays ago and last night, I was still running a low fever. I've been back to the doctor. I am supposed to go back in two weeks for more blood work. We'll see.
Now I know that in Peru there are millions of desperately poor people who cannot afford health care. I know that the little two-bed hospital I was in didn't have a CAT-scan machine. I know that. But, I was cared for. I wasn't rushed out. My pain was taken into account and mitigated as best as was possible given what was available. Here, in the United States of America, I was rushed through, spit out and made to suffer needlessly. I don't know if my insurance wouldn't have covered any more care. I don't know if they needed my room in ER, but then no one even asked me if I was willing to pay out of pocket for a few more hours on IV pain medication--and trust me, I would have gladly laid in the hallway or a broom closet, for that matter, with the IV in my arm.
No one knows yet, what exactly was initially wrong with me. Best guess, some mysterious virus that attacked my joints and muscles. But, I can't help but feel that I would have gotten over whatever it was faster, if my body was not put through the additional agony and distress of unneeded pain.
How often do we hear stories of people cut loose from care--even mentally ill discharged earlier than would be recommended-- because insurance has run out or doesn't pay for hospitalizations for certain maladies? Everything is so expensive, partly because of the layers of bureaucracy associated with our over-complicated, ever more expensive insurance. But more than that, our system makes you feel like no one cares if you hurt. I know that during this ordeal, there were a few people who did care, but they had very limited contact with me. There was one person to do my blood work, another for the IV, another one pushed my wheel chair. The people with the warm smiles, all disappeared in moments and those on the end of the phone who didn't want to be bothered with my husband's pleas for help replaced them .
It is a sad commentary, when illness in the United States, makes you nastolgic for food poisoning in Peru.
Sunday, April 06, 2008
No Child Left Behind--Shit rolls down hill.
I had a conversation this week with a really good math teacher, who is leaving the profession. He hates his job. Those of you who think that "those who can't, teach" ought to look at the White House. My view is "those who can't try to regulate teachers".
You know, I am the first to admit that there are some lazy-ass teachers in this world. And there are some burn-outs and there are some who carry prejudice into their classrooms and have lower expectations for some students than others, but you know, most of us are true professionals working under incredibly difficult circumstances. And from an administration that says that it doesn't believe in regulation, they have no problem regulating public school teachers. We are highly educated people who spend time day in and day out with our students, but we are not allowed to make judgment calls and teach what we think a group of students most needs if it doesn't directly correlate to a standardized test. Tests which test what some faceless person somewhere who has never met our kids decides is the most important thing for them to know in that particular year of their life.
It doesn't matter if the kid has been in our school system for ten years or ten days. It doesn't matter if the kid has spoken English since birth or for one year. It doesn't matter if the kid has been in six schools that year or whether they have been absent more than present. It matters that that kid is sitting in that school on the day of the test. Take away the fact that schools with homogeneous populations, which can implement more one-size fits all solutions are rated the same as schools with diverse populations. Schools with highly mobile populations are rated the same as schools with stable populations. God help the schools with diverse and mobile populations.
And while we, the teachers, are supposed to meet every kid's diverse needs and meet them with individualized lessons, we the teachers--good, bad, dedicated or lump-butts are all rated under the same system and all treated to the same mind-numbing, poorly constructed, under-funded, generic "professional development". The message is that we are not "professional" enough to figure out what we need. Basically, the school districts don't have the funding to give us money to go get what we need. Here in Texas, if we want a masters degree, we pay for it out of our own pockets and in most districts get almost no, if any, pay bump for that degree.
Just like the kids are evaluated, teachers are, too. Shit runs downhill in public schools and shit hits those at the bottom--which would be the classroom. Teachers and students. The evaluations are ridiculous. Besides the obvious problems with the actual tests, in order for the district to cover its butt, they put kids and teachers through a series of "benchmark tests". The rationale we have to listen to is that we can use the statistics to find what areas we really need to highlight in our classes (I guess we can't figure that out on our own), but basically in order for the district to get its stats in order, we need to benchmark every kid--no matter if we already know hands down that that kid is going to pass the test with flying colors. Rather than teach a lesson that will meet a high achieving student at their level and move them forward, we need to spend several days each year not only giving these kids the "real" test, but also testing the test and benchmarking. Is it all the district's fault?--No. They are trying to come up with something to satisfy the State that brought the Nation-- Leave No Child Behind.
Plus, while the public schools are constantly strapped for cash to run any number of meaningful programs--consider how much it must cost to run the TAKS tests (Texas Assessment of Knowledge and Skills). Here is what is involved.
In the meantime, we don't have enough Spanish workbooks.
And the teacher evaluation systems are as inadequate and useless as the student evaluation systems. In our school's model for example, we can be marked down for not have a "specific, measurable objective" posted on our board at the start of class. It should demonstrate "higher learning objectives as demonstrated by Bloom's Taxonomy". Okay, I have one board in my classroom, where I teach three different classes--ESOL I, ESOL II and Spanish I and I, as a professional, feel I should be able to decide how to use my board space--like for teaching. I also teach ballet folklorico in the cafeteria--where there is no board. Now, I have never been called on this--and I try to write my objectives on the board and then erase them and put up new ones (not in folklorico), but whenever we try to get an answer as to why we need to do this, the answers are pretty insulting. Basically it is implied that if we don't write out an objective (and for some reason post it on the board) it indicates that we don't know what we are trying to teach, that we don't have any objectives for our kids, that our kids won't know what we expect of them and that we don't have a plan and that we don't have high expectations for our students.
My folklorico kids--who never see a written objective, perform more than twenty shows a year--both private and public. We just danced a quinceanera yesterday and the week before my competition kids danced a show with the University of Texas dancers without me even having to be there. These kids are pretty professional themselves. My officers read spread sheets and make purchasing decisions. They master not only dance and, choreography skills, but also leadership skills and financial skills that I would put up against those of any number of school administrators--or those of the current occupant of the White House for that matter. Some of these kids come from families where their parents didn't even go to high school. So much for writing objectives on the board or TAKS testing--folklorico--not a TAKS subject.
But the only way I get my folklorico kids to the heights I do is by putting in countless unpaid hours all year around. I put off having my own kids, too, because if I had a baby how could I work the way I do? And what keeps me from helping more kids? Underfunded health care, child care, and the lack of a living wage in this country. I know kids who would like to be in the folklorico program, but they can't rehearse after school, because they are the child care in their house hold for the younger brothers and sisters while their parents work extra jobs to put food on the table and pay for medications. Leave No Child Behind--Not on the cheap we don't. But it is cheaper to blame the teachers.
Parents who are working extra jobs and worrying about where the next meal is coming from or what will happen if they or their children become sick or injured are not likely to be checking homework and taking an active role in their child's school.
It falls on the teachers again and again and then our hands are tied behind our backs. We cannot be the social safety net for the entire Nation, so stop making us the scapegoat. We are not the problem. And neither are our poorest students. If this country wants an educated work force and wants to compete with the rest of the World, we need to get serious. We need to look at what other nations with educated workforces do.
Most of their teachers do NOT teach as many classes per day as our teachers do. Most other countries with educated work forces have universal health care. Most have more child care programs available to their citizens. They take some of these problems off their peoples' plates so they can actually focus on their educations.
Many teachers who come here from other industrialized countries are shocked at what is expected of teachers in this nation and what our workloads are like. Our school actually has a visiting teacher from China, who is amazed at what we have to do--from China. No wonder they are catching up.
Leave No Child Behind? Not on the cheap.
You know, I am the first to admit that there are some lazy-ass teachers in this world. And there are some burn-outs and there are some who carry prejudice into their classrooms and have lower expectations for some students than others, but you know, most of us are true professionals working under incredibly difficult circumstances. And from an administration that says that it doesn't believe in regulation, they have no problem regulating public school teachers. We are highly educated people who spend time day in and day out with our students, but we are not allowed to make judgment calls and teach what we think a group of students most needs if it doesn't directly correlate to a standardized test. Tests which test what some faceless person somewhere who has never met our kids decides is the most important thing for them to know in that particular year of their life.
It doesn't matter if the kid has been in our school system for ten years or ten days. It doesn't matter if the kid has spoken English since birth or for one year. It doesn't matter if the kid has been in six schools that year or whether they have been absent more than present. It matters that that kid is sitting in that school on the day of the test. Take away the fact that schools with homogeneous populations, which can implement more one-size fits all solutions are rated the same as schools with diverse populations. Schools with highly mobile populations are rated the same as schools with stable populations. God help the schools with diverse and mobile populations.
And while we, the teachers, are supposed to meet every kid's diverse needs and meet them with individualized lessons, we the teachers--good, bad, dedicated or lump-butts are all rated under the same system and all treated to the same mind-numbing, poorly constructed, under-funded, generic "professional development". The message is that we are not "professional" enough to figure out what we need. Basically, the school districts don't have the funding to give us money to go get what we need. Here in Texas, if we want a masters degree, we pay for it out of our own pockets and in most districts get almost no, if any, pay bump for that degree.
Just like the kids are evaluated, teachers are, too. Shit runs downhill in public schools and shit hits those at the bottom--which would be the classroom. Teachers and students. The evaluations are ridiculous. Besides the obvious problems with the actual tests, in order for the district to cover its butt, they put kids and teachers through a series of "benchmark tests". The rationale we have to listen to is that we can use the statistics to find what areas we really need to highlight in our classes (I guess we can't figure that out on our own), but basically in order for the district to get its stats in order, we need to benchmark every kid--no matter if we already know hands down that that kid is going to pass the test with flying colors. Rather than teach a lesson that will meet a high achieving student at their level and move them forward, we need to spend several days each year not only giving these kids the "real" test, but also testing the test and benchmarking. Is it all the district's fault?--No. They are trying to come up with something to satisfy the State that brought the Nation-- Leave No Child Behind.
Plus, while the public schools are constantly strapped for cash to run any number of meaningful programs--consider how much it must cost to run the TAKS tests (Texas Assessment of Knowledge and Skills). Here is what is involved.
- The tests themselves need to be developed by private firms.
- The tests need to be printed.
- The tests need to be graded.
- "Monitors" are dispatched to schools to pop in and double check security of the tests as they are given--making sure that the teachers walk around the room, for example.
- The district pays people to audit the "security measures", including seat charts of where individual students sat during the test and logs of when the each of the two certified teachers who proctor each testing room have left to go to the bathroom.
- Reports are generated and uploaded to computer software showing which kids missed which questions.
- Generic study guides are printed and bound for general use by every and any student. (Most don't use them.)
- Specified study guides are generated, printed and bound for those juniors who did not pass the Exit-Level test the first time around. (Very few use them.)
- Tests are given endlessly until passed--by hook or by crook.
In the meantime, we don't have enough Spanish workbooks.
And the teacher evaluation systems are as inadequate and useless as the student evaluation systems. In our school's model for example, we can be marked down for not have a "specific, measurable objective" posted on our board at the start of class. It should demonstrate "higher learning objectives as demonstrated by Bloom's Taxonomy". Okay, I have one board in my classroom, where I teach three different classes--ESOL I, ESOL II and Spanish I and I, as a professional, feel I should be able to decide how to use my board space--like for teaching. I also teach ballet folklorico in the cafeteria--where there is no board. Now, I have never been called on this--and I try to write my objectives on the board and then erase them and put up new ones (not in folklorico), but whenever we try to get an answer as to why we need to do this, the answers are pretty insulting. Basically it is implied that if we don't write out an objective (and for some reason post it on the board) it indicates that we don't know what we are trying to teach, that we don't have any objectives for our kids, that our kids won't know what we expect of them and that we don't have a plan and that we don't have high expectations for our students.
My folklorico kids--who never see a written objective, perform more than twenty shows a year--both private and public. We just danced a quinceanera yesterday and the week before my competition kids danced a show with the University of Texas dancers without me even having to be there. These kids are pretty professional themselves. My officers read spread sheets and make purchasing decisions. They master not only dance and, choreography skills, but also leadership skills and financial skills that I would put up against those of any number of school administrators--or those of the current occupant of the White House for that matter. Some of these kids come from families where their parents didn't even go to high school. So much for writing objectives on the board or TAKS testing--folklorico--not a TAKS subject.
But the only way I get my folklorico kids to the heights I do is by putting in countless unpaid hours all year around. I put off having my own kids, too, because if I had a baby how could I work the way I do? And what keeps me from helping more kids? Underfunded health care, child care, and the lack of a living wage in this country. I know kids who would like to be in the folklorico program, but they can't rehearse after school, because they are the child care in their house hold for the younger brothers and sisters while their parents work extra jobs to put food on the table and pay for medications. Leave No Child Behind--Not on the cheap we don't. But it is cheaper to blame the teachers.
Parents who are working extra jobs and worrying about where the next meal is coming from or what will happen if they or their children become sick or injured are not likely to be checking homework and taking an active role in their child's school.
It falls on the teachers again and again and then our hands are tied behind our backs. We cannot be the social safety net for the entire Nation, so stop making us the scapegoat. We are not the problem. And neither are our poorest students. If this country wants an educated work force and wants to compete with the rest of the World, we need to get serious. We need to look at what other nations with educated workforces do.
Most of their teachers do NOT teach as many classes per day as our teachers do. Most other countries with educated work forces have universal health care. Most have more child care programs available to their citizens. They take some of these problems off their peoples' plates so they can actually focus on their educations.
Many teachers who come here from other industrialized countries are shocked at what is expected of teachers in this nation and what our workloads are like. Our school actually has a visiting teacher from China, who is amazed at what we have to do--from China. No wonder they are catching up.
Leave No Child Behind? Not on the cheap.
Saturday, April 05, 2008
Why are people so fascinated by Obama?
I got an email this week from one of my former students and tennis players from Manor High School, where I taught and coached shortly after I arrived in Texas. She was more than my student, she was my right hand in running my tennis team that first season and continued to work with me for several summers as my "assistant commissioner of tennis" in our summer league. She was responding to the news that I had been elected a delegate to the Texas State Democratic Convention for Obama.
"Okay so I have to say this and don't get mad or anything but I don't get why people are so fascinated by Obama... I understand why republicans would want for him to win the democratic nomination but I don't see why democrats would waste their vote. He seriously is the ticket for Republicans to regain the presidency within 4 yrs.. He has no experience!!! But whatever, its your vote so have fun at the convention... I will stick with Hilary and pray she pulls it out!!!"
Well, good question from someone who I respect and care about. So here goes:
You do realize that traditional "experience" will only take you so far. I'm a gringa from Baltimore, but I direct a very successful ballet folklorico program, because I know how to organize and lead and I work with a gifted choreographer and dedicated student officers. President Lincoln, probably the best president we have ever had, except Washington, had one two-year term in the House of Representatives as far as "experience" in Washington went. Obama looks like a veteran in comparison.
Originally I ranked Clinton above Obama in my choices. If you will remember, I was an active campaigner and contributor to Biden's campaign. By the time Biden dropped out, however, Obama was the only choice for me--this after following the campaign day in and day out extremely closely and watching the reactions of the candidates in many situations.
Besides being a gifted orator and an inspiration to millions of new voters, he handles himself with ease and honesty AND he seems to surround himself not with loyalist hold-overs, but rather with people who are "experienced" in their area, who will speak truth to power, and then-- he actually listens to them and and considers their opinions. I suggest you read Doris Kearns Goodwin's A Team of Rivals about Lincoln's cabinet to see what I mean. People think Obama reminds them of Bobby Kennedy. I think Obama reminds me of Lincoln more than any other President.
Additionally, once the election is won (and Obama consistently does better than Clinton in polls against McCain), we have to govern. If we do not govern well, then the Republicans will be back in power for more than four more years. This is the Democratic moment. We need to seize it and we need to keep all these new Democrats inspired. Unfortunately for Mrs. Clinton, she is married to Bill and she has a shit load of baggage she's still carrying around and will carry right on up the White House steps. Republicans hate her guts. (I don't hate her guts, though I can tell you, as a loyal Democrat, I am still bitter about Bill Clinton waving that finger at me and the entire nation and lying to us after the Super Bowl, when he said he did not have sex with Monica Lewinsky. If he had not brought that into everyone's living room, he would be in a much higher standing with a lot of us.) It doesn't matter if the hate is rational or not. As long as Republicans hate her, then Republican members of the House and Senate are going to have a really hard time voting for her initiatives, because if they piss off their constituent bases at home for "siding" with the Clintons, they are going to be facing primary opponents in their home districts.
On the other side of things, with many independents and even some Republicans interested in Obama and with him bringing sooooo many new people into the process, and with his lack of "experience or baggage" or whatever you want to call it in Washington, it will be much easier politically for Republican legislators to cross lines for key votes.
That is why I am supporting Obama.
And that is before we get into Vietnam vets, like my father, who are supporting Obama, but will go McCain over Clinton in a heartbeat.
Think about it, Chica. But vote your conscience.
So, do that everyone. Vote. It is our right. We need to exercise our vote, because just like the muscles in your body and the connections in your brain, the less they are exercised, the more quickly rights start to slip away.
"Okay so I have to say this and don't get mad or anything but I don't get why people are so fascinated by Obama... I understand why republicans would want for him to win the democratic nomination but I don't see why democrats would waste their vote. He seriously is the ticket for Republicans to regain the presidency within 4 yrs.. He has no experience!!! But whatever, its your vote so have fun at the convention... I will stick with Hilary and pray she pulls it out!!!"
Well, good question from someone who I respect and care about. So here goes:
You do realize that traditional "experience" will only take you so far. I'm a gringa from Baltimore, but I direct a very successful ballet folklorico program, because I know how to organize and lead and I work with a gifted choreographer and dedicated student officers. President Lincoln, probably the best president we have ever had, except Washington, had one two-year term in the House of Representatives as far as "experience" in Washington went. Obama looks like a veteran in comparison.
Originally I ranked Clinton above Obama in my choices. If you will remember, I was an active campaigner and contributor to Biden's campaign. By the time Biden dropped out, however, Obama was the only choice for me--this after following the campaign day in and day out extremely closely and watching the reactions of the candidates in many situations.
Besides being a gifted orator and an inspiration to millions of new voters, he handles himself with ease and honesty AND he seems to surround himself not with loyalist hold-overs, but rather with people who are "experienced" in their area, who will speak truth to power, and then-- he actually listens to them and and considers their opinions. I suggest you read Doris Kearns Goodwin's A Team of Rivals about Lincoln's cabinet to see what I mean. People think Obama reminds them of Bobby Kennedy. I think Obama reminds me of Lincoln more than any other President.
Additionally, once the election is won (and Obama consistently does better than Clinton in polls against McCain), we have to govern. If we do not govern well, then the Republicans will be back in power for more than four more years. This is the Democratic moment. We need to seize it and we need to keep all these new Democrats inspired. Unfortunately for Mrs. Clinton, she is married to Bill and she has a shit load of baggage she's still carrying around and will carry right on up the White House steps. Republicans hate her guts. (I don't hate her guts, though I can tell you, as a loyal Democrat, I am still bitter about Bill Clinton waving that finger at me and the entire nation and lying to us after the Super Bowl, when he said he did not have sex with Monica Lewinsky. If he had not brought that into everyone's living room, he would be in a much higher standing with a lot of us.) It doesn't matter if the hate is rational or not. As long as Republicans hate her, then Republican members of the House and Senate are going to have a really hard time voting for her initiatives, because if they piss off their constituent bases at home for "siding" with the Clintons, they are going to be facing primary opponents in their home districts.
On the other side of things, with many independents and even some Republicans interested in Obama and with him bringing sooooo many new people into the process, and with his lack of "experience or baggage" or whatever you want to call it in Washington, it will be much easier politically for Republican legislators to cross lines for key votes.
That is why I am supporting Obama.
And that is before we get into Vietnam vets, like my father, who are supporting Obama, but will go McCain over Clinton in a heartbeat.
Think about it, Chica. But vote your conscience.
So, do that everyone. Vote. It is our right. We need to exercise our vote, because just like the muscles in your body and the connections in your brain, the less they are exercised, the more quickly rights start to slip away.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Whoa..it's getting a little heady. Adventures from the Williamson County, Texas Democratic Convention
Okay friends and neighbors, yesterday, at the Williamson County Democratic Convention, I was elected as my precinct's delegate to the Texas State Democratic Convention in June. I am still a bit in shock, but I am thrilled with the prospect of finding a voice and a way to represent both the Democrats of my historically heavily Republican area and indirectly--my students.
So how the hell did I get there???
Those of you who have followed my blog for a while know that in addition to teaching, I direct the ballet folklorico program at the high school where I work and that my kids, my dancers, are very close to my heart. Some come from families who have been in this country for generations. Some are first generation Americans. Some are immigrants themselves. Of those, some are here legally and some are illegal, undocumented or whatever the media is calling them these days. To me they are all my kids. Whether their parents went to college or never set foot in a high school they dance together. They work together to fund the program. They compete together. They not only in school, but they represent their school in performances and competitions in the community and beyond. I love them. And when they graduate, having completed everything asked of them by the school system and No Child Left Behind, prepared to further their educations, earned scholarship money and prayed for the college acceptance letters, some of them will be in complete and utter limbo, denied many types of financial aid that they truly need and deserve. They have been here for years. They have learned English. They have been educated in our school system. Their parents have kept our businesses running, our homes roofed, and our offices clean. They have paid a lot of taxes--sales, property--even social security. Their home, their friends, their education and their World is here. They don't have anything to "go back" to. And they believe in Barack Obama.
Forget the black-white divide. Forget the Latinos are all for Hillary. As a teacher, I can't "do politics" at school. If someone asks me who I support or why, I tell them, but I don't talk much politics in my building and with my kids we have business at hand on which to focus, but they knew I was going to my county convention. They knew, because yesterday they had a performance with UT's Folklorico and some other important groups at the MACC (Mexican American Cultural Center) in Austin. Obviously, I couldn't be in two places at once, so I had to tell them when we booked the gig, well if you want to do this, I can't go. So my "capitana" stepped up to take care of the logistics and a parent said she'd be there as an "adult presence" and my kids said, "Don't worry about us, Miss. Go to the Convention".
The night before the convention, I took my competition team to a workshop at UT (University of Texas). It went until 8:30 pm. Then most of us went for a cheap quick meal, and as we laughed and ate tacos and fries, one of the girls asked me exactly what I was going to be doing the next day and who I was supporting. So I told them. And each of them started talking about Barack--about who they knew who voted for him, about how one of the girls' boyfriends, who is not legal himself and so doesn't know if he will ever be able to vote in a U.S. election has a picture of Barack on the inside of the visor of his truck where the mirror should be. By the time I got all of them home and got home myself it was after 11 pm, but I was so fired up for the convention!
The Convention
Okay, now I live in Williamson County, Texas, ya'll. This has been a RED county for quite a long time--definitely for the 9-plus years that I have lived here. I mean, for many positions Republicans ran unopposed, so primary voting has been a pretty quick affair around here. But times, they are a changin'. When my neighbor, an alternate who was upgraded to delegate status, and I pulled up to Stony Point High School, the line of people waiting to register and be credentialed was stringing around the building. The parking lots were full and people were pulling up onto the grass and wedging their cars in any place they could.
We spent a good portion of our first 2 hours in lines. At one point, we were pulled out of the line and seated to hear a speech by the guest speaker, Jim Mattox, a heavy weight in the Texas Democrat Party. Then we were back in line.
There were all kinds of problems stemming from mistakes made at the precinct level by volunteers who had never dealt with caucusing before--because no one had ever shown up. Four of our Obama delegates from my precinct, 239, were not on a list, for example. Each case had to go before the credentials committee--one by one-- to be resolved. Eventually they were. Sometime in the mid-afternoon we were able to ratify our delegates, establish Quorum and get things underway, but not until we elected officers to the convention.
The next hurtle to jump over was that very few people, myself included, really had a grasp of the convention process and almost as few had ever heard of Robert's Rules of Order, so there was a lot of "You must address the chair" and "You are out of order, sir" for the next couple of hours. Some people started to get tired and then there was the handful of "I've got to find something to complain abouters" who had to be heard. But...
it was good. No, it was great, because here, in Williamson County, Texas, was an entire high school gymnasium filled--floor and both sides of bleachers--with Democrats. It was as though we had emerged from a dark night into a light-filled day and had seen for the first time that we were not alone. All the problems, which were resolved, all the confusion, all the delays stemmed from an unimaginable increase in Democratic involvement in the political process in our county. All these people were learning together. All these people now know what the convention is. They know how to make a motion and how to call the question. AND on top of all that, for the first time since I have been here, Texas was getting a real voice in deciding the Presidential nominee of our Democratic Party.
After a hot election for a permanent chair and a slightly cooler one for secretary of the convention, we got to the business of caucusing. Our precinct, 239 was grouped with 394 (no one showed up) and 395, which sent one Obama delegate. A number of us had applied for at-large spots at the State Convention and four of us declared our intention to run for the delegate space from our precincts. We decided each would speak. I was asked to go first and I spoke about my general political experience and then I spoke about my dancers and my desire to be their voice. Another delegate spoke of her attraction to Obama as harkening back to the affection she had held for Robert Kennedy. Another addressed his work as an architect and his concern about the zoning and growth issues facing our portion of Williamson County and finally, the brave Clinton delegate, who had chaired our precinct convention for the Hillary side back on March 4th, spoke of growing up in South Texas and learning to vote Democratic with her mom and of the Clinton's involvement in the economic development of that area of the state. After the vote, it actually came down to a coin toss between myself and the other female Obama delegate. She called it. I won. I will go to the State Convention as delegate and she will go as an alternate.
Back inside the gym, we learned that there was no Democratic Club in Southern Williamson County. We are in a unique situation--part of Austin, but not part of Travis County. In the Round Rock Independent School District, but not in Round Rock--unable to vote in either election, without access to a free library and unsure who can respond to our 911 calls. Several of us, including in a show of Party loyalty, the Clinton delegate and the architect who had just competed with me in the quest for the state delegate spot, decided we needed to get a club off the ground. We collected about 30 names and contact information from delegates in ours and surrounding precincts and have already contacted the County Party for help in our endeavor. Because the convention needs to be a start, and our local Dems need to win right along with the Democratic Presidential Nominee.
The happy insanity dragged on until after mid-night. Just before dinner time, it was announced that those not interested in the resolutions, could go and many did, including most of the our precinct's delegation. I hung in with the architect, who had acted as our precinct chair for the day, and another Obama delegate, who was hoping to be advanced in an at large spot. Not long after, however, questions began to arise as to whether or not quorum would need to be re-established to ratify all (or maybe some would say what little) we had managed to accomplish during the day. Out came the list we had compiled earlier and two of us went to work calling people back--Obama supporter or Clinton, we didn't care. We just called. We talked to a lot of voice mails, got in touch with a few and two or three came back. For naught. When the convention reconvened at 9:45, it had been determined, after checking with the State Party and consulting legal counsel, that once quorum had been established, it could not be broken. Since others had been calling their precinct delegates though, and got some of them back, we probably had quorum, had we counted.
On and on it went--committee reports, votes on challenge rulings, motions for the sake of motions and some thoughtful ones, too. Democracy at its inefficient, messy best.
Just past midnight, we dragged our weary selves out of the gym and into the night--no longer alone. We are Democrats in Williamson County, Texas. The GOP needs to watch out!
So how the hell did I get there???
Those of you who have followed my blog for a while know that in addition to teaching, I direct the ballet folklorico program at the high school where I work and that my kids, my dancers, are very close to my heart. Some come from families who have been in this country for generations. Some are first generation Americans. Some are immigrants themselves. Of those, some are here legally and some are illegal, undocumented or whatever the media is calling them these days. To me they are all my kids. Whether their parents went to college or never set foot in a high school they dance together. They work together to fund the program. They compete together. They not only in school, but they represent their school in performances and competitions in the community and beyond. I love them. And when they graduate, having completed everything asked of them by the school system and No Child Left Behind, prepared to further their educations, earned scholarship money and prayed for the college acceptance letters, some of them will be in complete and utter limbo, denied many types of financial aid that they truly need and deserve. They have been here for years. They have learned English. They have been educated in our school system. Their parents have kept our businesses running, our homes roofed, and our offices clean. They have paid a lot of taxes--sales, property--even social security. Their home, their friends, their education and their World is here. They don't have anything to "go back" to. And they believe in Barack Obama.
Forget the black-white divide. Forget the Latinos are all for Hillary. As a teacher, I can't "do politics" at school. If someone asks me who I support or why, I tell them, but I don't talk much politics in my building and with my kids we have business at hand on which to focus, but they knew I was going to my county convention. They knew, because yesterday they had a performance with UT's Folklorico and some other important groups at the MACC (Mexican American Cultural Center) in Austin. Obviously, I couldn't be in two places at once, so I had to tell them when we booked the gig, well if you want to do this, I can't go. So my "capitana" stepped up to take care of the logistics and a parent said she'd be there as an "adult presence" and my kids said, "Don't worry about us, Miss. Go to the Convention".
The night before the convention, I took my competition team to a workshop at UT (University of Texas). It went until 8:30 pm. Then most of us went for a cheap quick meal, and as we laughed and ate tacos and fries, one of the girls asked me exactly what I was going to be doing the next day and who I was supporting. So I told them. And each of them started talking about Barack--about who they knew who voted for him, about how one of the girls' boyfriends, who is not legal himself and so doesn't know if he will ever be able to vote in a U.S. election has a picture of Barack on the inside of the visor of his truck where the mirror should be. By the time I got all of them home and got home myself it was after 11 pm, but I was so fired up for the convention!
The Convention
Okay, now I live in Williamson County, Texas, ya'll. This has been a RED county for quite a long time--definitely for the 9-plus years that I have lived here. I mean, for many positions Republicans ran unopposed, so primary voting has been a pretty quick affair around here. But times, they are a changin'. When my neighbor, an alternate who was upgraded to delegate status, and I pulled up to Stony Point High School, the line of people waiting to register and be credentialed was stringing around the building. The parking lots were full and people were pulling up onto the grass and wedging their cars in any place they could.
We spent a good portion of our first 2 hours in lines. At one point, we were pulled out of the line and seated to hear a speech by the guest speaker, Jim Mattox, a heavy weight in the Texas Democrat Party. Then we were back in line.
There were all kinds of problems stemming from mistakes made at the precinct level by volunteers who had never dealt with caucusing before--because no one had ever shown up. Four of our Obama delegates from my precinct, 239, were not on a list, for example. Each case had to go before the credentials committee--one by one-- to be resolved. Eventually they were. Sometime in the mid-afternoon we were able to ratify our delegates, establish Quorum and get things underway, but not until we elected officers to the convention.
The next hurtle to jump over was that very few people, myself included, really had a grasp of the convention process and almost as few had ever heard of Robert's Rules of Order, so there was a lot of "You must address the chair" and "You are out of order, sir" for the next couple of hours. Some people started to get tired and then there was the handful of "I've got to find something to complain abouters" who had to be heard. But...
it was good. No, it was great, because here, in Williamson County, Texas, was an entire high school gymnasium filled--floor and both sides of bleachers--with Democrats. It was as though we had emerged from a dark night into a light-filled day and had seen for the first time that we were not alone. All the problems, which were resolved, all the confusion, all the delays stemmed from an unimaginable increase in Democratic involvement in the political process in our county. All these people were learning together. All these people now know what the convention is. They know how to make a motion and how to call the question. AND on top of all that, for the first time since I have been here, Texas was getting a real voice in deciding the Presidential nominee of our Democratic Party.
After a hot election for a permanent chair and a slightly cooler one for secretary of the convention, we got to the business of caucusing. Our precinct, 239 was grouped with 394 (no one showed up) and 395, which sent one Obama delegate. A number of us had applied for at-large spots at the State Convention and four of us declared our intention to run for the delegate space from our precincts. We decided each would speak. I was asked to go first and I spoke about my general political experience and then I spoke about my dancers and my desire to be their voice. Another delegate spoke of her attraction to Obama as harkening back to the affection she had held for Robert Kennedy. Another addressed his work as an architect and his concern about the zoning and growth issues facing our portion of Williamson County and finally, the brave Clinton delegate, who had chaired our precinct convention for the Hillary side back on March 4th, spoke of growing up in South Texas and learning to vote Democratic with her mom and of the Clinton's involvement in the economic development of that area of the state. After the vote, it actually came down to a coin toss between myself and the other female Obama delegate. She called it. I won. I will go to the State Convention as delegate and she will go as an alternate.
Back inside the gym, we learned that there was no Democratic Club in Southern Williamson County. We are in a unique situation--part of Austin, but not part of Travis County. In the Round Rock Independent School District, but not in Round Rock--unable to vote in either election, without access to a free library and unsure who can respond to our 911 calls. Several of us, including in a show of Party loyalty, the Clinton delegate and the architect who had just competed with me in the quest for the state delegate spot, decided we needed to get a club off the ground. We collected about 30 names and contact information from delegates in ours and surrounding precincts and have already contacted the County Party for help in our endeavor. Because the convention needs to be a start, and our local Dems need to win right along with the Democratic Presidential Nominee.
The happy insanity dragged on until after mid-night. Just before dinner time, it was announced that those not interested in the resolutions, could go and many did, including most of the our precinct's delegation. I hung in with the architect, who had acted as our precinct chair for the day, and another Obama delegate, who was hoping to be advanced in an at large spot. Not long after, however, questions began to arise as to whether or not quorum would need to be re-established to ratify all (or maybe some would say what little) we had managed to accomplish during the day. Out came the list we had compiled earlier and two of us went to work calling people back--Obama supporter or Clinton, we didn't care. We just called. We talked to a lot of voice mails, got in touch with a few and two or three came back. For naught. When the convention reconvened at 9:45, it had been determined, after checking with the State Party and consulting legal counsel, that once quorum had been established, it could not be broken. Since others had been calling their precinct delegates though, and got some of them back, we probably had quorum, had we counted.
On and on it went--committee reports, votes on challenge rulings, motions for the sake of motions and some thoughtful ones, too. Democracy at its inefficient, messy best.
Just past midnight, we dragged our weary selves out of the gym and into the night--no longer alone. We are Democrats in Williamson County, Texas. The GOP needs to watch out!
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