LeadCast BlogNov5
This blog was originally published four during the last presidential election. Four years later his words still resonate. As the 2008 election moves center stage, I would like us to pause and ask ourselves the big question. Why do we as a nation yearly engage in the hugely expensive and culturally monumental ritual of sending children to school? During most of my time in school, my father was seriously ill, and my mother worked two shifts to keep us afloat. I was a disconnected and dreamy child, vaguely fearful of our circumstances, full of longing but without much direction. There’s a lot of kids out there like me. And they need all that school can provide. From everything we hear, it’s to prepare the next generation for the economy, and that preparation is measured through scores on standardized tests. This has been the primary justification for education for a generation. But our children are more than economic beings, and learning and development cannot be reduced to a few test scores. Education turned my life around, so I come at this issue in a very personal way. I long to hear more in our national discussion about the powerful effect education can have on young people’s lives. Oct17
One night around 3:00 am, I woke up to what appeared to be a flashlight beaming in through my bedroom window. I laid silently as thoughts began floating to consciousness trying to make sense of the light, when I heard our backdoor creaking under the force of something prying at it. As a twelve year old boy living with my mother, stepfather, and my brother in a under resourced neighborhood in downtown Phoenix I suddenly understood someone was trying to break into our apartment. I ran quietly into the living room where my parents were sleeping. I placed my mouth close to my stepfather’s ear and in a rush whispered, “Someone’s trying to break in.” He jumped up and went toward the back door, and I trailed behind him. Together we chased the burglar away. A dark shadow disappeared into the night. I returned to bed and laid there with my heart beating quickly as my thoughts worked through what had just happened. My thoughts and my heart beat eventually slowed down as sleep began creeping back over my body, when I suddenly heard a loud POP. I sat up, looked at my brother, and I fell off the bed onto the floor. Through a fog I recall my stepfather running into my room and him and my brother repeatedly trying to pick me back up. Read more Sep4
I was recently asked a simple enough question, What is the role of the teacher? Initially, I thought, That’s easy enough. That’s who I am. It’s at my core. Of course I can answer that question. But then, I started reflecting, like teachers are prone to do, and that seemingly simple question became much more complex. My role was constantly changing through my experiences as a teacher. For instance, when I was still in college the role of the teacher meant we focused on pedagogy—how to teach the children. I was prepared to go into my first job and rise to the challenge of teaching students to use inquiry to learn the secrets of simple machines, to use questioning to create mathematical conjectures, and to facilitate literature studies that would allow children to “read the world.” When I became a full time teacher the reality of a classroom context dramatically stretched my understanding of my role. My focus on pedagogy was not enough to meet the demands of teaching. Thirty students with different life histories, cultures, languages, educational strengths and struggles, family dynamics, reading levels, attendance patterns, socioeconomics, and more entered the classroom. In order to meet their needs I had to reconsider my role. In fact, give me a multiple choice question, and I’d probably think my way into getting it wrong. Question: What is the role of the teacher?
Jul25
I remember the first day I arrived at Manzanita School in the Bay Area. What immediately stood out to me was the small “one-room schoolhouse” feel that made me feel like I was stepping into an early 20th century schoolhouse rather than a present day alternative school in a bustling area. I entered the school greeted by the starkness of a classroom adorned with white walls and white curtains hanging on both sides of the two windows in this one room. Eight tables with two chairs each sat in neat rows forming an aisle down the middle of the room, ending at the headmaster’s desk. Little did I know that that headmaster’s desk would be mine for nearly two years after I entered that summer morning. May2
I believe the key to activating the lives of students with disabilities is not about changing who they are; rather, it is in changing how we listen to them. So let’s begin with a short listening exercise. If you are at our near a kitchen, perform the following steps before reading the blog. If not, feel free to skip ahead. An Exercise in Listening: 5 steps in 15 minutes. Mar7
I stumbled upon an amazing opportunity a few months ago. One that I’m sure many teachers wish would present itself at some point after their career in the classroom is over. I was sitting in the waiting room of my doctor’s office when a young woman approached me slowly and said, “Excuse me, but is your name Ms. M?” I was startled at first, mainly because in my current position at the Equity Alliance, Ms. M isn’t typically how I’m addressed. As soon as I made eye contact with this young woman, I recognized the fifth grader in her. Granted, she looked very different, but her eyes were the same. I responded, “Yes, I’m Ms. M. Oh my goodness. I’m so sorry, but I can’t remember your name. I know it starts with a C!” (I also remembered that she was a fantastic writer. Those of you who are teachers may be familiar with the strange phenomenon where you remember weird bits of detail about past students.) She smiled and reminded me that her name is Carolynn. Carolynn had been a student in my fifth grade classroom in 2001 (a more significant detail that I’ll share later.) We talked a few more minutes and exchanged phone numbers, as well as a promise of getting together for coffee in the next few weeks. Later, I marveled at the fact that 1) I remembered her, 2) SHE remembered ME, and 3) perhaps most importantly, I’d get the opportunity to sit with a former student and talk about her life then and now. This conversation solidified for me what being “culturally responsive” is all about. Read more Nov18
Recently, I’ve taken on new endeavors that have opened my eyes to things I haven’t noticed before…namely the power and privilege that is associated with being a white person and the marginalization I sometimes experience as a lesbian. I grew up as a relatively privileged person and I still am in many ways. I come from a middle class home, with both parents as career professionals who possess graduate degrees. Thinking back on my childhood, I can’t even remember a time that I felt marginalized. Even as a tomboy who would rather play touch-football than have to even LOOK at Barbies, I rarely felt like I didn’t fit in. Maybe I was just oblivious, but this indicates to me that privilege was certainly present in my life. You don’t think about privilege when you have it, only when you don’t. Read more
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