So It Begins

The evening settled like a soft blanket on the Lincoln Memorial as Cassie hurried to get one more picture. Then … she just stood still. After a moment she turned, tears in her eyes, and quietly said, “This is amazing.” It was our first night in DC and Cassie was seeing this historic city for the first time. She has wandered the streets of London and Paris. Sipped wine in Vienna and Milan. Taken photos of the castle in Edinburgh and the gates at Dachau. And yet here, in front of the memorial to this gentle, humble, eloquent man, she wept. We would spend the next four days exploring the museums and monuments created to celebrate and contemplate the history of our American experiment. It was satisfying to watch my daughter experience this city for the first time because it reminded me how inspiring and conflicting our struggle for this American Dream has been. Father and daughter reflecting on the historic challenges we faced in the past and realizing the challenges we face now.

Like many others, I am weary of the ridiculous spectacle some of our elected officials have created here and at home in Wisconsin. Almost daily we learn how the officials who are supposed to represent us make a mockery of our country. Institutions that are the bedrock of our democracy and designed to look out for the “common good” are dismantled or corrupted. Everyday we are told our public schools are failing, the post office is a mess, we don't need to protect the environment, and on and on.  Walking around Washington, D.C. and reflecting on the people and events we celebrate here, I was reminded that America has faced similar challenges in the past. Each time we have weathered the crisis when decent, sensible, well-informed citizens came together to select representatives who understood the responsibility of public service and the critical role our public institutions have in helping all citizens. The one thing that gives me optimism for the future is the faith I have in our public schools and the teachers who work there.

I have the enormous good fortune to live with a veteran teacher and at this time of the year she has a familiar routine. It starts innocently enough. A few plastic containers collected in a grocery bag. Some new children’s books delivered in the mail. Soon, however, there are a few phone calls. Some text messages. A quick meeting at school. Before you know it, the kindergarten teacher in our family is in full “prep” mode. Jeanette is off to her classroom to “organize”. She reports that things are going well, but she needs some help moving the “bathtub”. The “bathtub”? The “antique bathtub”, I am told, is a perfect learning center to promote independent reading skills. We slide it into perfect position under the draping canopy. With the comfy pillows placed just right, I can see why a kindergartener would love this “reading center”.  It is important for you to know it is still weeks before school will officially begin, but this is routine for Jeanette and many, many other classroom teachers.  This has been a way of life for Jeanette over her 31-year career.

Like many others, she is a dedicated professional educator. She will smile politely when she hears adults say, “Oh, it takes a special talent to work with the little ones.” In private she will say, “What kind of “special” talent does it take for a teacher to be thoughtful, compassionate, caring, aware, informed, and organized? Those are basic skills.” Don’t misunderstand. There are lots of people who don’t possess the basic skills to be a competent teacher, but Jeanette is reluctant to admit that she has “special talents”.  If you watch Jeanette work in her classroom, as I have for many years, you will see that her “special talent” is her uncanny ability to help kids and parents find comfort and confidence in her classroom. The fact that she also carefully selects appropriate strategies to develop academic and social skills is almost secondary. As this new school year begins, I want my friends and former colleagues working in school to realize how much our society depends on the complicated, exhilarating, and, yes, sometimes frustrating work you do.

You don’t need me to explain why your work is so important. Read Thomas Jefferson or Abe Lincoln. Maybe Ted Sizer or John Dewey. Or just go back and re-read all those notes and letters you received from former students and their parents. Just know that we need you to demonstrate to our children that our society has grappled with difficult problems before and we have made things better. As long as we have people who are educated and enlightened, we have demonstrated that we can make positive changes in our world.

The monuments in Washington are not the only symbols of our democratic achievements. Every public school building in every city, town, or hamlet is a living monument to the idea of “a more perfect union”. I hope you have another successful year.

A poem:

Look for Me

Ted Kooser

Look for me under the hood
of that old Chevrolet settled in weeds
at the end of the pasture.

I'm the radiator that spent its years
bolted in front of an engine
shoving me forward into the wind.

Whatever was in me in those days
has mostly leaked away,
but my cap's still screwed on tight

and I know the names of all these
tattered moths and broken grasshoppers
the rest of you've forgotten.

Nuance

Schools are closed today here in southern Wisconsin. A snowstorm blew in last night and pushed us closer to the wood stove. There is an eerie silence that settles over the land when its covered with 8” of snow. With all that is going on around us, silence is good.

I have spent the last 10 weeks teaching high school again. Filling in for a colleague starting her family was rewarding and tiring. I was reminded again of what I have believed for a long time: you are either in it or out of it. It is not possible to fully understand the delicate dance that takes place in a thriving classroom unless you are there every day. Needless to say my absence from full-time teaching made my re-learning curve that much harder. There is little doubt that successful teachers learn an elaborate and elegant set of skills to help kids learn. I admire their talent.

It was also enlightening to see a different group of kids making their way through high school. Some issues were new, but mostly kids are still kids. They are trying to figure out what they love and what they’re good at amid a whole cascade of emotions that even the best of us don’t always understand. They want to be independent, but they haven’t figured out how. They don’t want to be children anymore, but they don’t know how to be adults. It’s a very interesting mixture.

One day I began class by writing the word “nuance” on the board. One of the hardest things to learn is that we all filter the world through our own experience. Unless we understand “nuance” – a subtle difference in or shade of meaning or expression – we are doomed to mis-understanding and confusion. Although most high school students can’t provide a dictionary definition of the word, they certainly recognize it in practice. They clearly read the “nuance” in their dad’s voice and expression when he says, “Do I need to ask you to clean up that mess again?”. Just like many other teachers, I want our students to recognize how important it is to listen and understand in an environment that is difficult to pin down. We want them to recognize the subtle, significant shades of meaning we all use as we try to understand the world around us. We introduce them to all the tools we use to make sense of the world: math, science, social studies, communication theory, technology, music, theatre, art, etc. And yet, the most important skill they must learn seems to not be a skill at all. Let’s call it an attitude. They must believe that knowledge is essential and the systems we have created to determine “truth” are reliable. They must believe that our American system of public education was created because education leads to enlightenment and everyone has a right to enrich their lives. They must believe – in their bones – that knowledge is better than ignorance. And here is where “nuance” comes in.

High school kids are experts at spotting hypocrisy, especially in the adults they’re around most of the time. They delight in catching us playing the “do what I say, not what I do” game. We told them never to lie, but when they asked, “Daddy, will you ever die?” maybe you didn’t follow the expert advice in Parent Magazine. Maybe you thought they were too young to understand or maybe you didn’t want them thinking about death. Maybe you just wanted them to stay kids for as long as possible. So you lied and said, “I will be here as long as you need me.”  Now, as they grow older, we hope they understand that lying can have shades of meaning. And most often they do. They recognize that honest, thoughtful people can have sincere difficulties in understanding and explaining how they see the world. Understanding nuance helps them be more patient and accepting of those differences. If they can be more patient and reflective, they will be better able to understand and evaluate the tsunami of information they receive every day.

It will also help them recognize that there are some people who fully understand the term nuance and use that knowledge to mislead and misrepresent. These are people who work hard to undermine the processes we use to seek the truth and the systems we use to share it. Our students need to know that some want to weaken our schools and news organizations because it is easier to deceive people who are not well informed.  Can you see why teachers love what they do?

The good news is most high school kids accept the importance of doing well in school. Oh, they complain about it, but deep down, they trust their parents and teachers. And they are often thoughtful and funny, even to old guys who can’t work a smartboard. These kids are incredibly fortunate that this community recognizes the enormous value of good schools. It was like a breath of fresh air to hear our Governor say we must put the needs of our public schools at the top of our priority list again and return to the Wisconsin Idea.  If we do, we might make the world easier for everyone.

Go Foward Anyway

I just finished feeding the birds on this snowy New Year’s Day. I can hear an early morning train moaning across the country side behind our house. It seems like just another ordinary day. But it is not. People everywhere, including myself, have resolved to make things better in 2019. This is the year many have decided to achieve those goals that have eluded them in the past. Most of these resolutions have to do with eating habits and exercise. I applaud those who want to eat healthy, lose weight, and regain the physical fitness they had when they were younger. Jack Lalanne, Richard Simmons, Jane Fonda, and about a 1,000 new YouTube fitness gurus have been telling us this for decades. Just remember, Jack Lalanne did his full workout routine the day he died. Just sayin’. (He was also 96, so there’s that.)   My point is … what is my point? Don’t be too discouraged if your plan to lose 50 lbs. and retrace Forest Gump’s running trails across America doesn’t work out. These challenges may make you better able to face another new year.

Maybe it’s time to do something new by starting your own Facebook fitness company? Remember we live at a time where the only thing you need to gain financial and personal success is hard work and a clever idea that you can sell. Look at all the people on who have found success by flooding the media with “interesting” ideas and wacky videos. Just image how much fun it would be to join the ranks of all the successful “reality” TV shows. Of course, you would need to find your own “unique” brand. I mean, just offering sensible ideas and factually based suggestions won’t work. You need to find an “angle”. Think of other reality shows. Guys on a fishing boat. Real housewives. Some losers in New Jersey.  You need to do something different. Maybe you could get a “mountain man trucker” to exercise with you or an Evangelical chef to prepare “holy” food. I know – maybe you could do your entire show wrapped in aluminum foil and saran wrap. Add some upbeat music? Maybe not. I’m not sure Under Armour or Nike will want to market aluminum foil shorts. Of course, there is another idea.

Maybe this is the year you turn down the noise. Go back to the things that have worked before. Listen to the people you know and trust. Ask the right questions so you get the right answers from the right people. The naked guy smeared in mud trying to win a prize by surviving who knows where is doing the best he can, but he won’t really teach you much about the way your life works. Decide what you want to do, make a plan, set reasonable goals, and have at it. And let your own wisdom guide you. Remember all those books you’ve read and experiences you’ve had. You know how easily things can change and how important it is to be flexible. You know all about how “well made plans” get disrupted. Go forward anyway. Sometimes the world can be cruel, but just as often it is remarkably beautiful. Make it your mission to find those moments in 2019.

Happy New Year.

Starfish

This is what life does. It lets you walk up to

the store to buy breakfast and the paper, on a

stiff knee. It lets you choose the way you have

your eggs, your coffee. Then it sits a fisherman

down beside you at the counter who say, Last night,

the channel was full of starfish. And you wonder,

is this a message, finally, or just another day?

Life lets you take the dog for a walk down to the

pond, where whole generations of biological

processes are boiling beneath the mud. Reeds

speak to you of the natural world: they whisper,

they sing. And herons pass by. Are you old

enough to appreciate the moment? Too old?

There is movement beneath the water, but it

may be nothing. There may be nothing going on.

And then life suggests that you remember the

years you ran around, the years you developed

a shocking lifestyle, advocated careless abandon,

owned a chilly heart. Upon reflection, you are

genuinely surprised to find how quiet you have

become. And then life lets you go home to think

about all this. Which you do, for quite a long time.

Later, you wake up beside your old love, the one

who never had any conditions, the one who waited

you out. This is life’s way of letting you know that

you are lucky. (It won’t give you smart or brave,

so you’ll have to settle for lucky.) Because you

were born at a good time. Because you were able

to listen when people spoke to you. Because you

stopped when you should have and started again.

So life lets you have a sandwich, and pie for your

late night dessert. (Pie for the dog, as well.) And

then life sends you back to bed, to dreamland,

while outside, the starfish drift through the channel,

with smiles on their starry faces as they head

out to deep water, to the far and boundless sea.

                                                ……. Eleanor Lerman