The Art of Complaining

From 11/5/2011:
If I was to randomly question a group of people, I'm willing to bet that the majority of the group would agree that complaining is bad. However, I think that complaining is necessary to keep balance! I believe this because in the past week I have made a conscious effort to NOT complain and it's resulted in my feeling like I have nothing but complaints in my head. Surely this is not how it's supposed to be, with the scale so obviously over-tipped?? So this morning, I've decided to craft an argument that somehow, complaining has gotten a bum rap. I even Googled the issue of complaining and found someone else's helpful blog entry about it:  http://dailyfreedom.com/2009/03/the-art-of-complaining-how-to-complain-effectively/.

Precisely a week ago, I didn't really have much to complain about. I had a fantastic morning, followed by an equally wonderful day full of accomplishment. And then Sunday morning happened, and there have been so many reasons to complain since then! This is how my life works in general...things are good, and then bad things happen and I complain about them, and then things are good again. Except I haven't been complaining, so the bad things and my complaints are still in my head, swirling around....and this is unsuitable given my brain's tendency to cleave to all thoughts unpleasant anyway. When I complain, I allow the negativity to escape my mind and make room for more "appropriate" thoughts of gratitude. I liken it to the delicate relationships between good and bad, light and dark, or joy and despair. Without one, the other is likely less appreciated, not to mention overshadowed. Not complaining has disrupted my life's balance, and I am determined to set things right!!

Amazing Affirmation

This is a blog entry that I stumbled across by actually reading my e-mail. I'm glad I did, because it reminds me of the value of being patient and kind in the classroom and the reason why I am so much so during the day that I practically explode by the end of it (I am, after all, a human being!)! My actions are what students (and their parents) remember, good or bad, and having had various teachers of my own, I definitely do not want to be remembered with cringing and relief that the year with me is over! It also makes me feel good about speaking up for those programs and practices that are good for students, even if it makes me unpopular with colleagues. Teaching, when done with students in mind, is the ultimate act of community service (especially when one really keeps track of all the unpaid work time). I wholeheartedly agree with this blog's author that it's not about me (though the feel-good moments of triumph and the endless life lessons are a bonus)....it's all about the shaping of people who will hopefully give back to their communities in some meaningful way.

Haunting Words to Inspire Every Teacher

By Marilyn Rhames on August 2, 2011 

Back in the days when I had no idea of what was actually required to be a good teacher, back when I was in grad school studying education theory and making foolish assumptions about how to manage students, I walked in on a conversation in a teacher's lounge that would change my life.

I had recently fled—yes I said fled—an elementary school on the West Side of Chicago. My year of student teaching had begun with the principal telling her staff that she hired us because we were physically attractive and that she loved the "green stuff" (gesturing money with her fingertips) and thus would have no problem firing any of us to save her job. She frequently used the P.A. system to spread her tyranny. Once she announced basketball try-outs and bluntly added that students who weren't skilled at the game should not show up. "I like to win," she said.

I shared a class with a mentor teacher who passed out worksheets all day and once responded to an insult from a student by saying, "You're talking about yo' mama." Some days I felt more like a bouncer than a resident teacher because I had to break up fights in the hallways and shout at the top of my lungs to get students' attention in class. I knew that if I were to gain any positive teaching tools, I'd have to go to another school. So after six months, I fled. The split was so messy that I didn't get a chance to say good-bye to my students. I ended up finishing my training at a progressive public school on a different side of the city.

That's when I stumbled in on that life-changing conversation in the teacher's lounge. The chatter was animated. A few teachers were reminiscing about their classroom horror stories at other schools: John dashed out of the classroom ... Sarah threatened to jump out the window, again ... Angel knocked over bookshelves in a fit of rage .... And in my desire to fit in and one-up the last tale, I began to share about the unbelievable dysfunction at my old school. Even though I hadn't yet earned my teaching certificate, I felt like I had earned some stripes. I was persevering to educate the youth despite the insanity within the urban public school system. I was the heroine of the story, fearless and unafraid.

"It happened to them," were the four words that shut me and the other teachers up. "It happened to them, not to you. You tell the stories like it's some kind of entertainment, but it happened to them—the kids. They are the ones who 30 years from now will remember these stories with tears in their eyes."

It was the middle school social studies teacher. He was a demur white man in his late 30s who often wore cardigans like Mr. Rogers. Until then he had kept silent, even as each story gave rise to a higher level of ridiculousness. He went on to explain that he, too, used to complain and feel like the victim until another teacher rebuked him with those words. He felt compelled to pass that wisdom on.

It happened to them: This truth has haunted me for the past eight years I've been teaching. I am only glad that I got set straight early in my teaching career. Some teachers never seem to get it. You know this when their debates about education reform are centered around teacher rights, and not student rights. Teachers' needs are important—I have a mortgage; I have a family; I would like to retire one day—but they are not the core issue. The mission is bigger than us. Educators and policymakers must boil the chatter down to two essential questions: To what degree will this policy enhance student learning and how will we know?

My children attend the school where I teach so I am all the more aware that "it"—whatever "it" is in a school, good or bad—is happening to them. I have to continually raise my expectations for myself, as a practitioner and as a parent. I must think deeply about what I believe, and then advocate for it. I can no longer rely on the teachers' union (if I were still in one) to represent my views and values about education. I must be like that social studies teacher who took a risk and spoke up for what was right. That is the only way anyone has ever changed the world. And that's why I am "Charting My Own Course."

The Call

This song speaks to me (uploaded by a 7th grader on 5/26/2008):
REGINA SPEKTOR- THE CALL
It started out as a feeling
Which then grew into a hope
Which then turned into a quiet thought
Which then turned into a quiet word

And then that word grew louder and louder
Till it was a battle cry
I'll come back
When you call me
No need to say goodbye

Just because everything's changing
Doesn't mean it's never been this way before
All you can do is try to know who your friends are
As you head off to the war

Pick a star on the dark horizon
And follow the light
You'll come back when it's over
No need to say goodbye

You'll come back when it's over
No need to say goodbye

Now we're back to the beginning
It's just a feeling and no one knows yet
But just because they can't feel it too
Doesn't mean that you have to forget

Let your memories grow stronger and stronger
Till they're before your eyes
You'll come back
When they call you
No need to say goodbye

You'll come back
When they call you
No need to say goodbye...

I am an American....

My husband has accused me of being unpatriotic, and I feel alone in my non-celebration of Osama bin Laden's death.  While I recognize that this was an affirming event for our country, I just can't get excited over someone being killed. True, the world is now minus one more horrible person...maybe that is something for which to be thankful. But as evil and unfeeling as he was, he was a human being (had any of us the misfortune of being born in his position, we might have turned out as he did...), and how are we any different from the terrible people who rejoiced over the deaths we suffered on 9/11 if we are celebrating someone's death at our hands?

I found this quote that someone had posted on a blog that was discussing how to broach this subject with children:

”I mourn the loss of thousands of precious lives, but will not rejoice in the death of one, not even an enemy. Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.”.


Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

Thanks, MLK, for reminding me that I'm not the only one who feels this way. And thank you for inspiring me to keep sharing light and love with all those whose lives I touch.

Aren't teachers human beings too??

I just discovered that if I have a bad day and make sarcastic (but nonspecific) comments related to my job on my personal blog that don't encourage violence or endanger national security, I just might 1) attract national attention, 2) be the subject of several discussion forums on which people who have never done my job will judge and make sarcastic comments about me, 3) get suspended from my job, but with pay, and 4) cause everyone to lament the state of public education and blame a wide range of people, including me.

Guess I won't be doing that. But Natalie Munroe, a teacher in PA, did, and I bet she wishes now that she'd kept her human feelings and thoughts to herself. Still, I can't help but be a little upset on her behalf. Seeing as how I know my blog gets posted on the Internet and on Facebook and I happen to be friends with students, parents, and colleagues on Facebook who could easily see whatever I write, I am definitely thoughtful about what I publish. HOWEVER, despite how "careful" I am, I know that not everything I say will be considered wonderful and there is always the possibility that someone will be offended/upset by my words. How do I know this? Because I'm a human being who recognizes that people think differently from me. I know that I don't like everything I see and hear. What I hope is that those who disagree with me respect my right to express myself, as I respect their right to disagree with me. I would hope that they wouldn't bring a lynch mob to my door insisting on my punishment, silence, or even worse, demanding that I change my mind because what I think is wrong. This is America. We don't really do that.......anymore........right?

Unfortunately for Ms. Munroe, someone who was reading her blog was offended by her comments. Instead of recognizing that as a human being, Ms. Munroe is more than entitled to her feelings and thoughts, the offended person(s) decided to go the lynch mob route rather than to do what we all have the power to do: stop reading, make a mental note that it was offensive, and move on. People who are so inclined even have the power to offer comments on things they read or send messages to others sharing their opinions. I cannot speak to whether I would've agreed with Ms. Munroe's comments (the "offensive" entries aren't available for me to read), but it doesn't even really matter. Denying her humanity would be denying my own.

Why Everyone Should Want a Cure for Depression

I just read an article that mentioned that there is still a stigma attached to being depressed. It makes me feel brave because I have chosen to be so vocal (to the point that even I sometimes think, "Enough already about how depressed you are! Can we talk/think about something else now??") about my experience with depression- and to share, as openly as appropriate, how difficult this illness can be. Even if it means that people think I'm crazy, or unstable, or whatever it is people think that causes there to be a stigma...I have gained so much from reading about others' ways of coping that I don't dare withhold what I have discovered! (Besides, I am a touch crazy. It's part of my charm!)

I've referred to depression as cancer with no remission- but it's probably more aptly described as being like ADHD. Everybody probably has a touch of it every now and then, whether they realize it or not; everyone knows someone who has it; and even those who have been "officially" diagnosed and who are "properly" medicated still demonstrate symptoms. For these reasons, and many more, what I want for my birthday is a cure for depression.

Imagine it! Though the elimination of depression would end up in people losing their jobs (drug manufacturers, therapists, etc.), it could mean thousands of dollars and hours of energy and effort saved- money, energy, and effort that could go toward other things, like education! No more depression would mean many more people are able to have productive days more often.  It would likely result in fewer divorces and bad decisions as well. The simple fact that it would be the end of the bulk of all suicides is reason enough to find a cure!

Everyone will benefit from no more depression When I blow out my 32 candles this year, its total disappearance will be my wish.