When the World Does End - Making Sense of the Senseless

Well, here I am.  The world didn't end today.  Perhaps, if the Mayans were so smart, they might still be around to see the fallacy of their prediction . . .

Nevertheless, as I listened to 26 bells chime this morning in memory of the Sandy Hook shooting victims, it occurs to me that a bit of the world did end a week ago for the families and friends of these children and teachers.  And not just for those who knew them. We have been a nation obsessed with this tragedy for the past seven days. While we have experienced and mourned other equally senseless mass shootings over the past few years, I don't think we have reacted with this intensity to anything since the Oklahoma City bombing where, again, the senseless loss of lives was compounded because the innocent victims were children.

Then comes the onslaught of folks trying to make sense of the senseless.  

• Where was God?
• Why did we push God out of our schools?
• Too many guns
• Not enough guns
• Disarm the people
• Arm the teachers
• Help the mentally ill
• Lock up the mentally ill

Sorry, my friends.  You can't make sense of the senseless.  You can't force God onto people and into schools. You can't create non-violence through violence. As for the mentally ill, we can't sweep them under the rug, or force them to take their meds.

God has never left us, and no one has ever taken away my freedom, or yours, to pray in or out of school.  I'm just old enough (and started school in the Bible-belt South) to remember my teacher reading a short Bible story (with no commentary) at the start of the school day, and students taking turns saying a prayer for our food before we went to lunch.  I didn't find it particularly meaningful then, and I doubt that God was particularly "honored" by our efforts.  When it disappeared, I hardly noticed, yet I continued to communicate with God throughout my school day, shared my faith experiences, and felt God's presence with me.  By the time I was in high school, we had moved out of the Bible-belt, and some of my most significant spiritual experiences involved being able to have an open an honest discourse with my favorite teacher on matters of faith.  Because I took several English classes with this woman, some of my writing for her involved personal position papers and analysis of writing in which I was never forced to separate my faith from my intellectual inquiry.  Yep, God was in my school.  And I'm sure in many others.  And hanging copies of the Ten Commandments up in the school, or starting each day with a knee-jerk prayer, would have enhanced none of those experiences.

And while we are considering God's presence or lack thereof in our midst, let's recall Jesus - often referred to as one of the greatest teachers.  Imagine with me for a moment that Jesus was teaching at Sandy Hook.  Now, imagine Jesus being trained to carry an assault rifle or even smaller firearm to "protect" the children in his class in the event of a similar tragedy.  Can't quite picture it, can you? What I can picture is Jesus hiding those children in a bathroom and telling them to wait for "the good guys."  And I can picture Jesus throwing himself in front of a group of children to take the bullets intended for them.  And I can picture Jesus telling his students that he loved them. Hmm.  Guess Jesus was at Sandy Hook, after all.  But he sure wasn't protecting with a firearm.  Please don't ask me to do that, either.  

We assume that the killer was mentally ill, because we simply can't make sense of anyone in their right mind doing what he did.  It may be that he was just evil, impulsive, or otherwise damaged. Regardless, there will always be evil in the world.  There will always be impulsive and damaged individuals who hurt innocent people.  We can't "fix" that.  As fallible humans, all we can do is our best to protect our families, the innocent, the elderly, the physically and mentally ill, and then, do our best to pick up the pieces and comfort those who are hurting when evil momentarily wins.  If we do this, then evil may win a battle, but Love will win the war.  Love must always win.  Just ask the Mayans.

Common Core or Uncommonly Curious?

It is a miracle that curiosity survives formal education. ~ Einstein

As any of my cohorts in education are aware, the new buzzword/best practice/bandwagon du jour is Common Core Standards. After an initial superficial glance, I was thrilled that it seemed so much more realistic than No Child Left Behind. Ask any educator in the trenches, and they can tell you that they knew NCLB was doomed from the start.  

Ask any educator . . .  there's the rub. I am starting to question that actual educators working with actual students are ever involved in these conversations. And I worry that Common Core is sliding down that same slippery slope. I spent a good part of our Performing Arts PLC (Professional Learning Community) collaboration time this week in highly engaged dialogue with my colleagues about the value - or lack thereof - of the Common Core Standards and our place in the teaching of same. I played devil's advocate on behalf of Common Core, but I heard the dissenting voice of one of my colleagues, and it gave me pause. This same colleague then forwarded a link to an article in the Washington Post on the topic, and I am engaged in a grand pause, if you will, where Common Core is concerned. It is a good article - you should read it (Eight Problems with Common Core Standards). Bear in mind, I haven't yet taken the time to fact check the claim that "the Common Core was written with insufficient public dialogue or feedback from experienced educators." But if true, I'm ready to raise the red flag of concern.

I won't list all eight of the problems offered by the author of the article - please be curious enough to read the whole thing - but I will share a few that raised my eyebrows and my interest.

#3 - The Common Core Standards assume that what kids need to know is covered by one or another of the traditional core subjects. In fact the unexplored intellectual terrain lying between and beyond those familiar fields of study is vast, expands by the hour, and will go in directions no one can predict.

#4 - . . . the main reason for poor student performance is being ignored - a level of childhood poverty the consequences of which no amount of schooling can effectively counter.

#8 - . . . The young should be exploring the potentials of humanness.

I have a lot of friends who are teachers - really, really good teachers. Not a one of us minds being accountable for what we teach. None of us minds hearing about a new "best practice" that might meet the needs of our students. But we see these varying assessment programs come and go all the time, and many of them are the same program with a new name, rolling around again. They roll in, turning all of our professional growth and preparation time upside down in an effort to educate us as to how we may conform to the new program and have that conformity affirmed by our assessment scores. It doesn't leave kids much time to be curious. Did I miss something? Isn't learning about first being curious?

I was ready to jump on the bandwagon, but I'm going to have to think about this some more. I know how to "play the assessment game," and I will do it to the best of my ability if given no choice. But what I really love to do . . . is teach. Wish someone would create a bandwagon for that.

Audacity of Pride - Purveyor of Hope

I had the good fortune several months ago of meeting Dr. Ron Holt and hearing him speak on the biology of gay sexuality, bullying and suicide prevention. Dr. Holt is a clinical psychiatrist who is committed to sharing scientific facts about human sexuality, LGBT health issues, and bullying, and he backs up that commitment by donating his time, speaking primarily to medical and collegiate audiences around the country. You will find a link to his website - Audacity of Pride - on this blog, and I also encourage you to follow him on Twitter (LGBT Shrink - @Dr.RonHolt).

In a day and time when so many young people are striving to become more open about their sexual orientation, I find Dr. Holt a purveyor of hope and vital source of information for anyone struggling with acceptance, health related issues, and non-acceptance or bullying from others. I refer to young people because I work with them everyday, but adults are certainly not immune. As Ron said in a recent Tweet, "Research shows that LGBT youth who are closeted are at greater risk for depression, substance abuse, and suicide." He also points out that LGBT youth are 2-4 times more likely to attempt suicide compared to their straight peers. Did you know that 40% of homeless youth are LGBT and the number one reason is family rejection? As a gay, Christ following teacher, how can I not keep myself aware of such important issues impacting the lives of my students? 

I offer this post primarily as a challenge to all who read it.  Check out Dr. Holt's website, follow him on Twitter, and be sensitive and aware of those around you who may be struggling with issues related to their sexuality, be it acceptance, health, bullying or suicide. You don't have to be an expert on the topic.  In fact, if you do nothing but make the following information available to those with whom you come in contact, you may save a life or become a purveyor of hope yourself.

The Trevor Lifeline:  866-488-7386

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline:  800-273-TALK

What I Miss About College Teaching . . .

I love high school kids, but not ONCE while I was teaching college do I recall having to say, "PUT the PARASOL away!"

The Power of One

My alma mater has nicknamed their annual fundraising drive The Power of One. It's catchy, and has stuck with me, though not so much for the reason they intended.

A choral colleague shared with me over the weekend her great consternation that one of her students in her top choir was quitting on Friday. He told her he thought she was too tough, her expectations were too high, and she didn't encourage them enough. She tried to talk with him about it, acknowledged that she had no plans to lower her expectations, but that perhaps she could be a bit more positive in affirming the group. She attempted a genuine dialogue, and he cut her off saying that his mind was made up. This normally strong, assertive friend spent most of Friday evening crying about it - wondering what she could have said or done differently to change his mind. I reminded her that she has over 200 students in her program who are staying in the program, and to not neglect appreciating them because of one disgruntled young man who probably just doesn't "get it" - or want it. Then I commented, "Isn't it ironic that most of our students have no idea that we will spend hours investing our emotional energies worrying about the one kid who thinks we are too heartless and callous to care whether they are there or not? Often to the neglect of all our other students who value our efforts?"

Ah, yes. The Power of One.

Neat

Here I sit, preparing to go to the annual city tree lighting ceremony where the choir kids will sing their cold little hearts out for 15 minutes or so in the requisite parade of city choirs. As often happens, there is a new custodian cleaning the choir room today. She's a nice older lady of Hispanic descent. She just came back to my office to ask me what the word "involvement" meant and how to pronounce it correctly. She showed me that she had seen the word on a poster in the classroom that connects different words to the various letters in the word "CHOIR". I explained what involvement meant as best I could - equating it to participation in the classroom activities. She seemed happy to understand, then asked me to make sure she was pronouncing the other words correctly - Cooperation, Harmony, Opportunity, Involvement, Responsibility. She even wrote the word - "involvement" - on a piece of paper that was destined for the trash. I wanted to say to her, "Lady, you 'get it.' You aren't just mechanically doing your job. You are truly involved in your environment and in taking responsible advantage of the opportunity to broaden the knowledge of your surroundings." That poster has been hanging in the choir room for two or three years now. She's the first person to acknowledge she has really seen it. We never know who we are teaching - or who is teaching us. I think that's kind of neat.

Glass Castle - the Lecture

In some far earlier blog, I raved about my "find" of Jeannette Walls' memoir, The Glass Castle. Last month I discovered, somewhat by accident, that she would be giving a free lecture as a part of the Humanities Lecture Series at KU. As luck would have it, my evening was free and I got a prime seat - middle center. I was as enamored by Walls in person, as I was by her book, and managed to scratch out a few of the more quotable quotes. I can't guarantee that I recall her words exactly, but I think they are close. I pass them on for anyone who needs an extra "pearl" for the day.

"In protecting children from obstacles, we may deprive them of the gift of learning to navigate those obstacles."

In reaction to her observation of a friend she envied for his food and heat, whose father hit him on the head for drawing, she commented:
"We might not have had food, and we might not have had heat, but my parents would never have made fun of my dreams."

Regarding her shame growing up and her need to write the memoir . . .
"Secrets are like vampires. They can suck the life out of you, but they only exist in the dark."

"Don't be ashamed of your scars. Scars are a sign that you survived."

Her mom's comment when Jeannette questioned how she could have had a "good day" because she fell off a horse. . .
"Anyone can ride a horse. It's knowing how to fall off that's the real talent."

Throughout, she reaffirmed that she learned how to dream from her dad, and learned to be optimistic from her mom.

My favorite - After she got her first big journalism job, she was constantly afraid people would find out about her past and did her best to hide it. One of her co-workers, who had grown up quite privileged and went to private schools, asked if she would like to join her on an Outward Bound experience. She said she didn't know what it was, and asked the girl about it. The girl replied, well you spend several weeks roughing it in the wild, no plumbing, no electricity, foraging for your own food . . . She looked at her and thought, "The first 17 years of my life were an Outward Bound experience." She could hardly wait to call her brother and tell him, "You won't believe this, but rich people actually PAY to suffer!"

I AM Your Frontal Lobe . . .

"Bless their hearts . . ." (a euphemism for "aren't they stupid?") - you have to love high schoolers - particularly the more right brained ones that participate in the arts. Their frontal lobes may not be developed, causing them to do and say stupidly impulsive things without considering the consequences, but that creative right brain does keep their sense of humor lively. A few of the braver (and smarter) ones even chuckle at my more subtle, albeit caustic, jokes on occasion. I tell them regularly that "I am your frontal lobe . . ." and responsible for keeping them focused on the task at hand so that they won't pay the un-soundly consequences later. [I know - "un-soundly" - so I'm a choral director who admires e. e. cummings' ability to create words to suit one's purpose - do feel free to try this at home.]

I find myself so busy laboring over their lobes, I sometimes forget to let my own frontal lobe communicate with my lips. Following an especially stimulating choral workshop with Simon C. (and my friends know of whom I speak), who scared the hell out of them when he actually expected them to act like choral musicians and not lobeless high schoolers, my students and I shared one of those "special" moments. The workshop was great (from my perspective) and provided some wonderful teaching moments in the Monday debrief that followed the weekend experience. I let the students do most of the talking - some of them expressing greater insight than I often give them credit for possessing. Occasionally, I provided a little "clarity," as it were. Perhaps I was overcome with a pedagogical high from the fact that the students were actually exercising a bit of metagcognition about the experience . . . (insert scarey music here). I opened my mouth, and feeling particularly witty and metaphorical (and completely forgetting the lobeless and lascivious nature of my high school audience) commented, "Mr. C does indeed run a bit of a tighter ship than I do, but I certainly enjoyed riding his ship for awhile." My students are comfortable with me - this was obvious from the tears of laughter streaming down their lascivious little faces.

Like my friend, Jacques, I think I should have a contest to identify the word that best describes when a seemingly innocuous comment manages to annihilate any future "teaching moments."
Amen.