No Limits, No Consequences, No Way!

Remember that kid who seemed to have everything, that kid whose parents never said, “no”? Maybe you met on the playground, in class, at camp, or in the neighborhood. Were you jealous of that child? Did you think that child was spoiled? Some of these kids were aware of their wealth, while others seemed oblivious.

Did you also encounter the kid who behaved as if the rules were only for other people? This child acted as if nothing was out of bounds. Some of these kids really didn’t get the idea of consequences, but some didn’t care. Some of them were right! Their parents never said, “no.” Did you have a classmate, work colleague, or neighbor who was able to break the rules and always get away with it?

Sometimes, these kids without limits ruled recess. They gathered a group who would join them on their exploits and pick up their leavings. These followers were wannabes, flatterers, and fans worshiping someone who lived the life they wanted.

What would it be like to have limitless resources? No price would be too high. Nothing would be forbidden. What would it be like to be able to do whatever you wanted, regardless of any rules or results?

If everything is available and disposable, does anything have value? If I am never held accountable for my choices, do I believe the ideas of right or wrong apply to me? These kids certainly understood that the way the world treated them was not true for everyone. That made them special – and they knew it and exploited it.

At a reunion or in the grocery store or sometime later in life, have you run into those special kids? How did they grow up? What kind of adults did they become? Did they embrace limits? Did they become law-abiding good citizens? Or did something else happen?

Although I swam in wealthy waters as a child, my eyes were really opened to this phenomenon in college. It was the first time I met people whose resources were unlimited – and knew it. Although I knew more than a few rebels without a clue in high school, college was also the first time I heard someone refer to laws as “guidelines for idiots.”

What happens when nothing has value because everything can be replaced? What happens to our sense of responsibility when we know we are above the law and no one will dare to call us out? What do we become?

As a teacher, I saw the results of parents who provided limitlessly. I dealt with students whose parents worked very hard to prevent their children from ever feeling the negative results of their choices. Many times, these students had long-term negative ramifications. I was not going to imitate those parents and I didn’t want my children to be like theirs.

Who are those people? I remember exploring the idea of the golden rule with a group of students. One student complained that when he treated another student harshly, it would NOT have bothered him. The other student was just a sensitive wimp. He was treating someone the way he wouldn’t mind being treated. In other words, he projected his values onto the other person: if it isn’t wrong for me to do it, then someone else shouldn’t perceive it as wrong. He couldn’t see it from the other person’s perspective. It wasn’t his problem; it was the other kid’s issue. He, of course, was beyond reproach.

It was this experience that led me to develop what I called the platinum rule: treat others BETTER than you would like to be treated. I don’t know if this would have had an impact on that particular student, but I hope it might have opened up a new way of thinking.

We might wish for limitlessness and far-reaching power, but our inner voice quickly whispers “Monkey’s Paw” warnings. Yet, if the genie always gives you unlimited wishes, why would you wish for world peace? You have never seen a world of strife or need. Would you instead keep wishing to be the biggest, baddest, best, and most powerful person that walked on the planet? More, more, more! Would you care about (or even be aware of) the suffering and unfortunate or would you focus on retribution against anyone who ever dared to burst your bubble?

If I can get whatever I want, very little has value – including relationships and people. If I can do whatever I want, then any obstacle, rule, or restriction is a personal offense. It is a slap in the face from a disrespectful and offensive person and cannot be endured. Yet, if I can purchase anything and get away with everything, then what do I strive for?

Power. You might seek to fill an increasingly deep cavern of desire for satisfaction, novelty, and control. You can have anything anyone else can have and will never be limited by the restrictions that hold back mere mortals. You want what the average folks could never have. You buy politicians, public office, celebrity, and notoriety.

Most of us don’t live in that world. Our limits are all too real. If we really had no limits or consequences, we hope we’d would not become the spoiled and self-centered brat. We might be right. But if you have any real integrity at all, your little inner voice might express doubt and concern. That’s a good thing! That says you have a functioning conscience and some degree of empathy.

Let’s make sure that those who lack that inner voice, who have been disfigured by wealth and power, who see no limits and feel no consequences are never in positions where the rest of us are their pawns and playthings. They will not treat us well.

Exclusion

Teenage social dynamics are difficult for kids to navigate, let alone adults. Children’s social groups build walls so high and strong that kids in the same classroom don’t communicate with each other.

And then there’s the child who is on the outside of all of it. Sometimes these kids are still developing socially. Sometimes, it’s not their fault at all. No matter what, these are children who want friends, but are not making them. What happens when the outcasts reach out? Most of the time they will be rejected. 

Several times, my children have been in the middle between trying to give one of these kids a social opportunity while risking rejection by their own group of friends who want nothing to do with those kids. Sometimes, my children have been rejected. Sometimes, they have been the wall builders.  

So what do I tell my child to do? Be candid with the outcast child about his behavior: “When you jump on furniture and demand attention, it is annoying. I want to have plans with you, but you need to be more socially appropriate.” Most children don’t know how to say this and the outcast child probably can’t do it! Such a tactic is not realistic; most children couldn’t give or take that kind of feedback. 

Children would simply be cruel: “I would like to include you in our plans but I’ve been out-voted. The others don’t want to include you.” This is an evasion. In several cases, my child didn’t want to include the outcast either but felt obligated. Sometimes I insisted my child be inclusive. Sometimes I failed, too. 

We tried to forbid our children from being exclusionary. As Grace Palay put it, “you can’t say, you can’t play.” Yet, kids’ social groups have only limited fluidity and parents have limited control. As parents, we have made it very clear to our kids where we stand. Not all parents work that way. 

Some social groups were built by parents. Some social groups are maintained by them. I often wonder which one controls which? As a teacher, I see how the social worlds of parents and children are intertwined. In many cases, the kids are pawns in the parents’ social games. 

Some parents recommend their children conceal rejection with dishonesty: “Our plans have fallen apart and I have to go home and do homework anyhow.” Does this fool anyone? It is code. We all know what is being said. It is the same as the cruel statement and it is a lie. 

While white (or gray) lies may be easier in the short run, they are the most problematic solution. They avoid dealing with the real issues. They teach both the child lying and the child being lied to that this kind of dishonesty is a real solution; it is a cop out. It teaches kids that you can say and do nasty things if you cloak them in little lies.

Would you advise your child to be totally altruistic? “My friends aren’t comfortable with including you, so I will make plans with you by myself and not go with them.” How many kids reject their friends and run off with the outcasts?  Would your eight, ten, or fifteen-year-old do this? 

This solution is very costly. Very few kids want to be with these isolated children and the child who stands up for him or her often ends up isolated, too. Is losing friends worth reaching out to a child who needs one. Most teenagers will not make that trade. Could they make it once in a while? Is that enough? 

That leaves one option: “Sure, you can join us.” And that is the choice I struggled to get my children and students to make. 

Twenty Years Ago: November 2003

 I must have had a cold for all of 2003!  November in 2003 was rainy and my son had a cold, too. While later in his life, I would wish for rain to cancel baseball games, in 2003, I dreaded rain because it did not cancel his soccer games. Can you see how much I loved sitting outside watching my children’s sports? 

My elder child was trying to battle her way into the school’s gifted program. She was upset that she was not selected and I had to hide my relief, “There are so many problems with that program. If she was selected there would be more issues than if she was not. Let her do her “gifted” thing in high school. I do not see that those who have been TAP’d have any advantage over those who do not. Often, they are more arrogant and more concerned with grades. Some are brighter, most are not. This is a blessing in disguise.” Of course, my child did not agree – until she got herself into the program in middle school. Then she understood what I was talking about. Oh, well. 

In November of 2003, I was phenomenally busy, “I am fighting the overwhelmed feeling. This weekend, I’ll take my Sunday School class to Willowcreek. On Monday, I’ll get essays. I need to get a Shabbat service ready for 12/5. Mango Street and the Book Circle unit are coming up and I don’t feel like either is fully developed. I am feeling like a ton is on the horizon. My grades are done, the parent notices are due. Get me to the end of the year.” 

I was also preparing our yearly holiday card. Prior to digital photography, getting a good picture could take months: shoot a roll or two, have it developed, reject the results, rinse and repeat. Fortunately, in 2003, I had my first digital camera. However, my three editors/critics could be very demanding; they wanted only their finest images on our yearly greeting card. It took a while to come to an agreement. 

Like this year, November meant a Saturday at Windycon. Since I was preparing to officiate at a bat mitzvah, I was debating whether to see one more mitzvah on a Saturday or travel to the convention. I made the healthy choice and gave myself a wonderful Saturday of celebrating science fiction and fandom. 

It was in 2003 that I integrated my Sunday School curriculum. In 2001, I taught comparative Judaism and in 2002, I taught comparative everything else. Why it wasn’t clear to me that was out of balance then, I am not sure. Perhaps because I was out of balance, too. So, I reorganized religions by theme and philosophy, had five field trips per year, and acknowledged that, since my students were going to many of their friends’ mitvzahs, we didn’t need to go to Reform and Conservative services. They were getting more than enough of those. 

In November 2003, I took my Sunday School class for our first trip to the megachurch in Barrington, Willow Creek. It was a foundational experience for them – and for me. We have been going back to Willow Creek every other year since then. 

The dog’s issues amped up in November. It was clear that the dog was now blind. I joked, “We have decided that we need to hire a seeing-eye person for the blind dog. Well, not really, but poor PJ is really struggling and it will be a few weeks at least until he gets better, if he gets better. It is really tough.”

I took my new Humanities class on a field trip to the Chicago Shakespeare Theater. This raised my level of busyness to a brand-new pitch, “Teach until afternoon, meet with the team, come home, go back for the faculty meeting, come home for dinner and give PJ his meds and then go back for the field trip. I’ll be home again around midnight! But it will be a good day, even if it is an exhausting one.” My optimism must have substituted for my lack of sleep. 

If I was questioning the value and manner of grading my own students, the grades my children were earning furthered that process, “Over and over, I question the value of these report cards. In the short story we discussed in Power Reading today, ‘Tom Edison’s Shaggy Dog,’ Edison invents an intelligence analyzer and predicts that we will be able to ‘grade people as easily as we grade oranges.’ Isn’t that what it is all about? I read my Humanities kids’ self-evaluations. One thing that came up a few times was their resistance to our grading system. Kids want to be graded. What a shame.” 

It is interesting to look back twenty years and see who was important in our lives then and now – and who we no longer see. We used to spend a great deal of time with neighbors who had kids the same age as our children. There were several families with whom we had both family and couple dates. We don’t see any of them anymore. However, there are folks with whom we were close that we see regularly. Yes, there is a message there: relationships based entirely on the kids didn’t last.

So, teaching, Sunday School, running Shabbat services, getting ready for a Bat Mitzvah, the neighborhood homeowner association (the annual meeting had to be planned), planning winter and spring break travel, taking care of a sick and blind dog, and the kids’ activities made November of 2003 a very long month. I am tired just writing that list. Oh! I noted that I joined the school crest committee at school. Did I ever say, “NO?” 

Precious Parking

The high school should really allow all students to drive to school. There is no reason just to limit it to seniors. If there is a space shortage, we should raise money and build a parking structure, just like they have at the colleges. 

There is no way my Precious would take the bus. The bus arrives far too early in the morning and Precious needs to sleep late. Otherwise, we get cranky and foul-mouthed and that doesn’t fly in my house! Walking or biking are just not practical. Besides, Precious has to take sports equipment and a computer and the hot/cold tray that Cook prepares for lunch each day. The bus makes so many stops and is not air-conditioned (or I think it isn’t, I’m not sure) and my Precious can’t take that kind of environment. 

Besides, there is only one bus after sports practice and it goes just about everywhere. It would take Precious a half hour or more to get home on it. That isn’t practical. Precious has tutoring in all the major subjects twice a week, private sports coaching, ACT and SAT tutoring, and frequent meetings with our college helper. I love that college helper. She is making sure that Precious is on top of all those deadlines. Precious doesn’t have to do anything! This college stuff is so stressful. Why can’t we just let Precious into my alma mater and be done with it? Precious will be going there anyway, why do we have to hop through all these meaningless hoops? 

So, I have a friend of a friend who has a little home a few blocks from the school. They charge pay $500 per semester for Precious to park at their house. We were going to let Precious take the Escalade that we usually keep at the lake house, but it’s two years old, so we got a Porche to replace it and Precious will drive that. We’ll just have to use my Land Rover when we are up north. It is a sacrifice we are just going to have to make. 

I wish my friend’s friend’s home was a little closer to the school. As it is, Precious has to walk three blocks. I park there when I stop by and take Precious’s Land Rover to the gas station and fill it up. Precious doesn’t have time for that. I can’t believe how long it takes me and that car always needs so much gas! 

I don’t know what we would do if Precious wasn’t able to drive to school. I can’t get up that early. It is an ungodly time, anyway. None of our people have arrived yet, well Cook has, but that is to make Precious’s breakfast and lunch. Cook can’t be expected to be a driver, too. 

I am concerned that, once Precious can drive to school, the staff will take all the good parking places. I don’t want Precious parking so far away from the building that it is the same distance as the friend’s friend’s house! That would be so unfair! I think kids who park in the nearby neighborhoods should have special spots right near the door when they become seniors. After all, they have been waiting to drive to school their entire lives! 

Twenty Years Ago: October 2003

Twenty years ago this month was a remarkable contrast to my present life. In 2003:

My mornings were hectic and intense. I took my elder child to orchestra at her middle school, ran to my school for a morning meeting with a student club or a parent, and then into my first class. It was a sprint. In retirement, one of the things I enjoy the most is a slow and civilized morning. 

I wrote, “Weekends are NOT a break at all,” and “Days off are never days off.” Now, every day is a weekend and day off! 

I kept my calendar, notes, and contacts on my Palm Pilot and was considering purchasing a Palm Pilot cellular phone! Today, I have all sorts of devices that make that old PDA look like an antique – but I still have it! 

I rode a kind of activity rollercoaster. I wrote that my day could go from highly productive and then, “grinds and collapses.” I was highly dependent on my parents and my wife’s aunt to help fill in childcare. Now, I am spending a lot of time helping my folks. My kids live far away and are highly independent. 

I had an ill and elderly dog that woke us up in the middle of the night, left surprises in the kitchen in the morning, and needed a syringe twice a day. While I no longer own a dog, we enjoy visits from and visits to our daughter’s dog. He is young and active and takes me on a walk – and my daughter takes care of the difficult dog duties.  

My list ran me: “I need to do an oneg and get birthday gifts and all that. A parent meeting this morning after I drop off Q. Field trip numbers today, StageWrite applications. A real bits and pieces day. Nibble, nibble, nibble, nibble.” Now, I use my daily list to give my day structure and I try to keep it short! 

My journal entries were often short. One even ended in midsentence! Now, I enjoy spending time reflecting on the day past and using my journal to help me focus on goals and tasks. My daily journal entries can be a little luxurious. 

Juggled time with family, friends, kids time with their friends, and date night time. Now, my time is flexible and far more balanced. I feel way more in control! 

My children were very young. They were losing teeth, growing physically, and figuring it all out. Now, they are working adults who help me and their grandparents. 

I worked with my children on homework and encouraged them to go beyond just the minimum requirements; “I tried not to hound Q into doing her homework. I played checkers with Jonah while she researched the lightbulb and filled in a math grid. She then read and practiced violin while Jonah set the table and I tried to kill the wasp that had somehow come into the house.” Now, I find I sound like my own grandmother and worry that my children might be working too hard and doing too much! 

“We went to Carmen’s last night and I was stuffed.” Oh, I long for the long-gone pizzeria of bygone days. I love stuffed pizza, but I fear I’ll never have another like Carmen’s! 

I was preparing to be a rabbi-substitute for a bat mitzvah! Our rabbi had just been hired and we had two bat mitzvahs that were scheduled before he was fully on board. So I attended mitzvahs to see how it was done. That role was expanded later: now, it has contracted and I am rarely a rabbi-understudy. 

I was wondering about the internet. When thinking about our school’s annual charity drive, I asked myself, “Can we use the internet to make money for school chest– perhaps send folks to a website?” Amazon wasn’t even a powerhouse yet and buying things on the web was sometimes risky. If only I had pursued this further! 

I was just beginning to see the possibilities of the internet as an extension of the classroom, “I got the idea for an essay tutorial online. I organized it and started it! It is no small project and I will work on it so it is ready for the Humanities kids’ next essay.” I experimented with how kids might use the web both in and out of class. Now, I have a former student running an AI-based educational website! 

I was grading during every free moment. I don’t miss that at all! 

Halloween was a really big deal involving a parade at school, parties, neighborhood gatherings, and of course, the dreaded house-to-house trick or treating. Now, Halloween is no more than greeting the handful of kids who appear at our door. 

While it is interesting to look back, I would not want to go back. These trips into my past journals make me appreciate how much young parents must handle each day. It also emphasizes that twenty years is a very very long time ago. Youth is not wasted on the young; I could not have done what I did today. 

Twenty Years Ago: June 2003

January may be the official beginning of the calendar, but for a teacher, it really starts in August and ends in June. Teaching is a profession that has clear cycles. As a young parent and teacher in June of 2003, cycle was the operative word.  

As we get to the end of the school year, all of the conflicts and issues of the semester move to the foreground. I hate grades. I hate the effect they have on students, their families, and what they do to relationships. It is one of the reasons why I have never used an averaged grading system. 

In 2003, I was using a portfolio grading system. Students would demonstrate their growth by analyzing their work throughout the semester and evaluating it on our skill-based rubrics. Of course, this meant that they had to complete that work. 

There was one student in particular who had failed to turn in so many assignments that demonstrating growth was nearly impossible because there was so little to see. I met with him almost every day on his free period and helped him with missing work. My goal was not a “good” grade by a passing one! I noted in my journal, “It is amazing that this boy is not sick of me yet nor has he become mad at me. It is clear that he needs attention. I have given him opportunities to tell me to stop supervising him so closely but he does not say it. He wants this kind of close attention.” Throughout my career, I met many students like this young man. 

Grades weigh heavily on me. I err on the side of the higher grade if a student is on a bubble. Students used my evaluations and their own and their work to demonstrate what grade they thought they deserved. Most students are surprisingly accurate. Many are harder on themselves than I am. 

For some students, grades are critically important – but not for all. But they were ALL important to me, “I am spending too much time thinking about these kids’ grades and what they want, and how they’ll feel and react. I need to move to a grading system that takes it out of their and my hands more – a more objective system. That will be helpful.” That is why so many teachers use a purely numeric system: it is easier when it is cut and dry. It is also inaccurate and unfair. So, for my entire teaching career, grading was a process, conversation, and a pain in the mind.

If you are related to a teacher, you know that the end of the year is the busiest and most stressful time of the year. That spills into all parts of my life. I developed another cold. I had to close down websites so people would not think we were in school to reply to their requests. At the time, in addition to my own teacher website, I was also “webmaster” for the English Department, the Counseling Department, Peer Helping, StageWrite, and recommended reading websites. I was also putting together a new website for my new class: Humanities. 

June is also a time to say goodbye to retiring colleagues. I have attended every retirement celebration that the school has thrown while I worked there. At the time, the school retirement party was held after graduation. Thus, it was never particularly well attended. People from the retirees’ departments and older teachers would attend, but many people had just spent a day teaching, an afternoon at graduation, and needed to get home to their families. It was certainly one of our most challenging daycare days. Thankfully, my parents had our kids and we celebrated three wonderful careers. 

I was delighted at how our principal talked about each of the three retirees warmly and in great detail with few notes. There was a stark contrast between the two classroom teachers, one of whom was in my department, and the retiring department chair. I wrote about how narrow the teachers’ scope of influence. Neither had sponsored clubs or coached sports. Neither was that involved in building committees or projects. They were very focused on their classrooms, kids, and courses. This was not the case for the department chair, whose influence was far-reaching.

If the year ends in June and starts again in August, then the time in-between is not a “break,” it is project season. Every year I taught I had a list of things that got pushed into summer. I start trying to hit this list as soon as the last bell rings: everyone has their yearly doctor and dentist appointments, all home improvement projects are scheduled, and preparations begin for the next school year. 

My kids were keeping doctors in business that spring. I worked on my new course preparation a few hours every day. We had a new roof and siding put on the house and remodeled a bathroom. Summer was a blur! I wrote, “I don’t feel like I am on break. I worked at the building most of the day yesterday. I straightened out the English website. I think I have a handle on that now. I worked on putting my computer back in order and doing a few other bits and pieces.” I even served on an interview team to fill a spot in our department. 

Speaking of cycles, my son learned to ride a bicycle without training wheels! My brother and aunt visited and it was good to see them. The kids started day camps. We had workmen at the house six days a week! I had a planning session with the Sunday School faculty. Each day was very busy and I noted that I was falling asleep quickly and sleeping soundly. Consequently, my journal entries were often short. I talked about a great deal -but briefly.  

I was planning a summer vacation; my wife and I always took an “annual honeymoon” and the kids stayed with my parents. It was almost always in July. I took a school workshop learning to use Adobe Illustrator. I used it to improve graphics on my websites and to create some functional and fun posters for my classrooms. 

In the wider world, a new musical called Wicked premiered. The Mars rover was launched. I put our car phone, cell phone, and home numbers in the brand-new National Do Not Call List from the Federal Trade Commission. 

But like that list, June was a long parade of all the things that didn’t fit well during the school year. I suppose a teacher’s two seasons are not winter and road construction but the school year and everything else you need to get done! 

Twenty Years Ago: May 2003

On May 1, 2003, President George W. Bush declared that, in Iraq, our mission had been accomplished and “major combat operations” were over. He was very wrong. 

At that time, I was keenly aware that, as a parent and teacher, not only was my mission not accomplished, but my major operations were only beginning. It is ironic that, twenty years later, many of my missions are accomplished (This is not the place to debate the state of Iraq). I look back at May of 2003 and it is nearly the opposite of my life now. 

My mission at school was in full swing. I had Peer Helping meetings two or three mornings a week. I was preparing for the student performance of creative writing, StageWrite, after school, later in the month. I was getting my Sunday School students ready for their May confirmation, and I was meeting with a new teaching team and designing our class for the fall. I started my adult Hebrew class, too! 

Operations at home were complex and intense. Unlike now, my children lived at home. I moved them from violin to sports practices to the park district to birthday parties and doctor appointments. Oh, yeah, they had school, homework, and Sunday School, too! 

My mother-in-law was at a nursing home in Skokie. My wife visited her frequently. My parents and my wife’s aunt helped us by picking up my kids and taking them for sleepovers and filling in when our babysitter got sick, which happened a lot in May 2003. My wife’s aunt died seven years later, and now I am frequently helping my parents.

Oddly, I didn’t see myself as frenetically busy as I do when I look back. In my journal, I wrote, “Today felt so – reasonable! I don’t remember when I have had a day when I got everything done and I didn’t feel like a madman doing it.”  But I continued, “I taught three classes, got the school work done (I didn’t have grading today – that helps). Web, attendance, special ed forms, calls, reading, and then temple, North Trail, and all the rest – but done and no craziness. What have I forgotten?”  So maybe not so reasonable? Of course, just a day later, I write, “From sane and reasonable to crazy and hectic! The day is only a few hours old and already things are nustybaum.” Are you shaking your head? I am. I was so busy that one of my journal entries ends midsentence as if I was called away and never had a chance to finish it. 

I worked out on my exercise bike most mornings. My body was letting me know that I was stressed: my neck and back hurt. I made my morning workouts more palatable by watching TV shows, but Star Trek: Enterprise had its series finale in May 2003. 

A good metaphor for my life at that time was the way that I organized my students’ debate presentations. Students were in groups of four, debating two on two. It might take ten class sessions if we saw them one at a time, so I found empty classrooms and put cameras in them, and had multiple debates for two or three days. Kids had to report to our room, find their debate room, and then set up and operate the camera, keep time, and debate! I would then take all the recordings home and grade them. It was stressful, intense, and exhausting for me, great for the class schedule and the kids. 

I ran a fundraising road rally for the congregation, which was a mix between a treasure and scavenger hunt. I organized a Mother’s Day brunch for my wife, mother, sister-in-law, and aunt-in-law. My daughter had another wrist x-ray and then we went to the Bakers Square which was demolished this week. My son had an ear infection! We went to the spring play, gymnastics tournaments to watch a former student, and Honors Night. I was a human pinball. 

Much of my free time was filled with grading (and watching those debate recordings). I also started meeting with a group of teachers who team-taught classes. Those meetings meant I was not in my regular classes, which meant sub plans and thus additional work. 

Yet, I read to both kids every night. We had our mornings together, too, even if it meant that when we left the house, it looked like the kitchen had been ransacked by raccoons. We went to dinners at Sweet Tomatoes on a regular basis, which was my children’s favorite restaurant. I rode my bike with my daughter to her school in the morning until she felt comfortable riding by herself. We even had an occasional Saturday babysitter and went to see the movie, Bend It Like Beckham! 

Like today, I was very aware of my good fortune. I wrote, “I am so lucky, so very very very lucky.” Despite a relative’s divorce and my mother-in-law’s condition, the rest of the family worked like a well-oiled Rube Goldberg machine. I noted that I did a “thousand things today,” but I wasn’t overwhelmed or unhappy about it. As with prior months, reading my old journals exhausted me now – but not then. 

I don’t know when we’ll be able to really say, “mission accomplished” in the middle east. It was May of 2003 when the Israeli government approved a plan that they thought would create a two-state system by 2005! 

Looking back lets us shake our heads at the past. It emphasizes how our view then is different from our reality now. Yet, it is our past that formed this present and what will come next. I think that frenetic pace is why I love the quiet and calm of retirement.

Twenty Years Ago: April 2003

April 2003 was a mixture of familiar and foreign. I started my journal by discussing an episode of This American Life. Not only do I vividly remember this particular story, but I had recently listened to it! 

My journal was punctuated by anxious dreams. I dreamed that, “I was going to summer camp and they were making us go through some kind of medical checkup that I didn’t want. They were going to ‘open up our heads.’” I dreamed about picking the wrong waffles, being overwhelmed with bnai mitzvah prices, having my hotel bathroom taken over by a stranger, and being on crutches on an army ship! 

I wrote about relishing quiet and slow mornings (one of my favorite parts of retirement), making lots of lists (I noted that, “I live on lists”), and struggling with the change from daylight saving time (“That lost hour counts!”). April was still hardly spring; in 2003, it began with a snowstorm! 

Even at a young age, my kids were themselves, “Quinn enjoyed her day at the zoo. She is great. Jonah is so happy, he literally bounces into the room. These kids are fantastic.” They still are! 

My life was hectic and phenomenally full, “There is a great deal to do between all the projects: StageWrite, Road Rally, Humanities, Peer Helping, Confirmation, and just teaching, parenting, and day to day stuff. Stop! Don’t want to freak myself out!” And that list wasn’t even complete! My daughter had several x-rays and doctor visits, I was returning to school in the evening for SEED class and special events, the homeowners association, and Friday night services. Oh, and I signed up for an adult Hebrew class! 

Yet, my enthusiasm for teaching was powerful, “Each job is different, I suppose, but I happen to think that I have the best one around: I do good – and do well. I have seasons. I am always learning and helping others to grow. I work for the good guys.”

Over spring break, I prepared for the class I would teach in the fall. I used quite a bit of that precious downtime to grade and prepare for my current students – and I started a summer to-do list dominated by professional tasks. And I got another cold! 

There were school challenges. The return to school after spring break was like diving into a cold pool. I had a student who was unhappy with the B he earned on his essay. We scheduled a meeting to go over the essay and he brought his mother to it! I struggled with getting my website updated. All materials that I gave to students on paper were available online. This is typical today, but in 2003, very few teachers did this. 

I used the computer regularly in the classroom for learning activities. We didn’t have projectors in classrooms, so I had to get the C.O.W., the computer on wheels. The English cart was called the Literary COW or L.C. for short. 

I dealt with a case of plagiarism, made presentations for our writing tutors, proctored the state testing, facilitated the display of the Names Memorial AIDS Quilt, hosted classroom observers, and ran a rehearsal of our student performance of creative writing. After I finished the rehearsal, I thought to myself, “I can’t believe I used to do this every day!” I was so much younger when I was directing plays: Ha! 

The school selected one of my schedules! However, they also chose to begin the day twenty minutes earlier, which flies in the face of the research about teens and sleep! The staff member who spoke to the staff was a coach in favor of starting earlier. It would be great for outdoor sports. I created a two-sided chart to explore both sides of the issue and even wrote a thesis arguing against an earlier beginning to our day. I lost. Sports' needs usually win. 

April brought Passover, touch-a-truck, my daughter’s birthday party, the start of softball, homeowners association meetings, and lots of rain. I noted, “I feel drained. Tired. I know this is the normal Friday feeling but this has been a very full week and a very full day. Each day, my pocket list was overflowing. My list for the weekend is longer than it usually is.” I reminded myself, “I think I can, I think I can.”

My father and I got into a heated “discussion” about the Iraq war at our Passover seder. I resolved to get rid of my Windows computer at home and buy a Mac. I was stuck with the “pieces of c” at school. 

Yet, April was a typical month – then. I am delighted that my life has slowed down now. 

Twenty Years Ago: March, 2003

I am reflecting on my life twenty years ago by reading my daily journals. Click here for an introduction. 

If February was busy, then March 2003 was a five-ringed circus. I didn’t sleep through the night even when I was taking nighttime cold medicine. I spent much of the month recovering from a cold. It was snowy and cold and winter got its last licks in during its final month. “I think my body is falling apart,” I wrote. 

My daughter had orthodontist and pediatrician appointments, x-rays of her adenoids and wrists, violin lessons, and a performance of the baby scene from Free to Be You and Me for a school gifted program event. She planned her birthday party and, when I questioned one name on her invitation list, I told myself to, “back off.” She brought home a hat she made at school that said her new year’s resolution was to stop yelling at her brother. She yelled at her brother? When? 

We celebrated my son’s fifth birthday with a play party at the park district. Since he was getting ready to go to kindergarten, he had a marathon of inoculations at his yearly March physical and it felt like a reward (or punishment) for recovering from all his illnesses of the prior month. 

I kept track of all my appointments on my Palm Pilot, needed to replace the phones that were installed in our cars, and watched shows recorded on VHS tape on our VCR when I worked out in the morning. 

“I am the human pinball.” Often my schedule wedged my home, school, and parenting responsibilities into a small space. I wrote about finishing class at 12:15 and rushing to volunteer at the book fair at the elementary school and then returning to the high school for an afterschool meeting, coming home and cooking dinner before leaving for Shabbat services in the evening. On the weekend, we attended the school’s musical, attended a community workshop, took my Sunday school students on a field trip, and had families over for pizza and play.

I wrote that, “School is the simple part of my life.” Yet, the more I read, the less simple school seemed. I met with the Peer Helpers in the morning, taught two or three classes a day, was assigned a new teaching partner to co-teach an integrated social studies-English class for the next year, drafted on to a “think tank” to work on the new daily schedule, and moved toward performance of our creative writing event, called Stage Write. School had a lockdown drill I said I was, “overstuffed to the max.” 

As part of our congregation’s steering committee, I attended interviews and other events to hire a rabbi. We met the man who would become our rabbi this month. He did a Shabbat service and I drove him around the area. My wife felt that we should move quickly to hire him or another congregation would snap him up! I noted that I was the youngest member of the Steering Committee. Now, I am one of the oldest and most senior! 

In the middle of the month, we declared war on Iraq because President Bush believed Saddam Husain had weapons of mass destruction. My father and I saw this very differently and had some passionate discussions about it. 

I was planning trips for spring break and the summer. My wife’s mother was struggling and required a great deal of care and attention. She had an infection, then an allergic response to the medicine for it, and the doctor struggled to locate an alternative treatment. My folks returned from a vacation, were home for a week or so and then left on another one. Once again, I watered plants, fetched mail, and got groceries for their return. 

“Running, running, running. Lots to do and little time.” I went to my professional development class, SEED several nights throughout March, tried to figure out how to grade student journals without commenting on everything; we had clogged toilets, trips to the train station (to just watch the trains go by), and several dinners at Sweet Tomatoes. 

Yet, when things slowed down occasionally, I wrote, “I love lazy and slow mornings when we can get them.” Spring break was a chance to do just that, although I reminded myself to “use it well.” 

“Spring is here and summer is quickly being planned. Zoom, zoom, zoom.”

Twenty Years Ago: February, 2003

I am reflecting on my life twenty years ago by reading my daily journals. Click here for an introduction. 

February 2003 was the opposite of my life today as a retired empty nester. Although my overall tone in February of 2003 was optimistic, positive, and happy, it seems stressful and overscheduled from 2023. 

February 2003 began with the space shuttle Columbia exploding at liftoff and ended with the death of one of my heroes, Fred Rogers. My young son struggled with fevers, stomach bugs, rashes, and colds all month. Was it because I registered him for kindergarten?

During February, I was on a school committee charged with creating a new daily schedule. I created a wide variety of schedules including an eight-period schedule across six-period days so two periods dropped out each day. By the end of February, we chose this model and began to figure out how to implement it. 

I juggled teaching, parenting, volunteering, and other responsibilities. I had after-school department meetings, assemblies, classes split by the lunch periods, observers in my classroom, and meetings with my clubs. Yet, I noted that my students “were AWESOME” and days, when my classes were uninterrupted, were “joyful.” 

The pace was the opposite of my life today: I sent one child to school, and the other was either at preschool or with a caregiver. My wife and I left for school at 7 am. I returned around 1 to grade papers and get errands and tasks accomplished. The kids returned at 3. We had the afternoon routine of sports, violin practice, playdates, and park district classes. My wife came home at 4:30 as I was putting together dinner. After dinner (which was always eaten at warp speed), we would turn our attention to homework (everyone’s) and all manner of evening activities. We all plopped into bed early and exhausted! 

My mother-in-law had Alzheimer’s and was living in a care facility in Skokie. My wife visited her frequently. I was highly involved in our congregation, so I had evening meetings at least once a week – and Friday night services. I was also taking an evening professional development class. 

In my journal, I keep telling myself that I can handle it – and that I enjoy it. I think I did, even if reading these affirmations made me think I was trying to convince myself.  I remember those years fondly, even if, when looking back now, they seem chaotically frenetic. 

There were many days when I didn’t feel like a part-time teacher. After class, I often stayed for lunch meetings, conferences or phone calls, or after-school meetings – then I’d return in the evening for my PD class, a performance, or to supervise an event! 

It was also clear how much I depended on my parents’ and my wife’s aunt’s help with our kids. They took them to Disney on Ice, the Museum of Science and Industry, sleepovers, and countless activities. When we had daycare challenges, they stepped up. The positive power of my children’s relationship with my parents was clear, too. My folks left town and my kids complained about the length of their trip. I picked up my parent’s mail, watered their plants, and checked their house. 

My work life was stressful. I doubt that any workplace is without politics, but English teachers are passionate, independent, and value their autonomy. We stormed over curriculum, requirements, personalities, and teaching assignments. Should students be required to give speeches? What was the place of oral communication in the English curriculum? Should teachers be required to teach specific texts? Should all students in a given course read the same texts and have the same core assignments – and how much should they write? I remember teachers being highly judgmental about each other – and some whom I discovered talked a better game than they taught. 

One teacher was very critical of my teaching. She decided that my students were not writing enough. So, I shared my classroom website with her. All of my assignments, activities, rubrics, and materials were available online. I did not hear anything after that. It was more than a decade before that teacher (or most others) posted her classroom activities publicly. Click here to read about my use of a teacher website. 

My journal is filled with thoughts about my work. I scrutinized my choices and reflected on my students’ progress. I was my own biggest critic. For example, I posed these questions for consideration and further writing: 

“What is the balance between writing, literary study, and oral communication? 

How much focus on technology? 

Are there key texts that are pivotal? 

How does our leveling structure pan out post high school? 

How do kids use the skills we have taught in college and beyond?

Are there skills kids need in college and beyond that we have NOT addressed? 

What direction do we get from our long-range plan and Illinois State Standards? “

I got up early one Saturday morning for the College of DuPage teacher fair with our district. I met several very promising candidates, some of whom joined our department. At the end of the day, I spent an entire interview trying to decide if I should tell the young candidate that she misspelled the word, “literature” on her resume. 

I was uncomfortable with the overwhelming number of gifts that arrived at children’s birthday parties. To make matters worse, my kids didn’t really play with most of these presents. In February, I convinced my daughter to take a different approach. My daughter decided her friends should bring presents for kids at Children’s Memorial Hospital instead of for her. Don’t worry, I was not depriving my child of birthday gifts; she got several presents from us that were things she really wanted and were chosen carefully – and her grandparents and great aunt spoiled her thoroughly. In February, she and I sat down and designed her birthday party invitation and did research about what kind of gifts would work for kids in a hospital. 

And we had a violin recital, went to the auto show, had families over for dinner, trips to the doctor, took my Sunday school kids to the Shri Swaminarayan Mandir in Bartlett, and celebrated my parents’ forty-third anniversary! 

It will come as no surprise that I got a bad cold and lost my voice as the month ended! On to March! 

Twenty Years Ago: January 2003

In January 2003, I began a habit I have maintained to this day: writing every day, usually in the morning. Click here for an introduction to this set of posts. My journal entries often revolve around my family and our daily activities, and, of course, school. At the time I started journaling regularly, my daughter was 8 and my son was 4. Their schedules, especially my daughter's, dominated our lives. I drove her to various activities, which in turn dictated my calendar. She was involved in a number of activities, including playing the violin, dancing, forensics (with a speech tournament that month), playing basketball, and she had a lot of homework. I also mentioned in my journal a diorama project that I felt was beyond her capabilities, and I wondered about children whose parents couldn't or didn't help them with it. My parents and my wife's aunt appear in my journal that month often when they help transport my children from one activity to another.

I mentioned in my journal that January 29th was "crazy hair day" at my daughter's school. I have a photo of it, though I doubt my daughter would let me attach it to this post. At the time, when we were at a soccer game or school event and people asked which of the children was my daughter, I would simply say "the tall one with the hair." She had (and still has) beautiful, very curly, dark red hair, which was a constant battle to keep under control. She wished she had straight hair. When we first saw the movie Mulan, she cried, "I want her hair."

In addition to my children's activities, I was just as busy in my personal and professional life in January of 2003. I wrote at length about developing a new multidisciplinary curriculum. I was also sponsoring a performance of student creative writing called "Stage Write," serving on the Faculty Advisory Council, on a committee redesigning our daily schedule, taking an evening class in Seeking Educational Equity and Diversity (SEED), teaching Sunday School, running the congregational Shabbat services, and serving as secretary of the homeowners association. 

It is unsurprising that I was feeling stressed. I noted I had a sore neck and I was feeling a little dizzy, perhaps overwhelmed. However, I also noted that writing in my journal allowed me to vent, complain, rant, and express things that I couldn't express in other ways.

I was heavily involved in my school department. I tried to organize a departmental book club. I noted that the department struggled to have social events, and I was critical of teachers who didn't start doing their new course planning early and then complained about being rushed. At the same time, I asked myself if I really wanted the challenge and stress of those new classes.

January was a month of transition for all of us, as we were returning to school after winter break and adjusting to the start of a new semester. I didn't start writing in my journal on the first of the month; rather, the entries for this month begin at the end of the month. Next month, I’ll have a full month of journal entries to use. 

In addition to all of these activities, I was studying world religions for Sunday School. I listened to lectures on audio as I exercised in the morning. In my journal, I reflected on different philosophies and theologies, and even played around with the idea of creating my own religion, sometimes seriously and sometimes satirically.

At one point in my journal, I wrote, "I am the juggler, boy am I the juggler." This was a mantra for me during much of my children's younger years, as I felt like I was constantly keeping swords or flaming torches in the air and if I dropped any of them, I might cut off my arm or burn down the house! 

It was a little stressful to revisit January 2003, and I know more intensity is on the way. Thank goodness I am now retired. 

Twenty Years Ago Today: An Introduction

Everyone told me when you have children, remember to video record everything – and I did. I have videos of birthday parties, soccer games, trips, class visits, Halloween, and so much more. I compiled these videos into DVDs and made a second set for my parents.

No one ever watches them.

So recently, I watched them. It is both a memory jog and a reminder of who we were, what was going on, and the struggles and celebrations of the late 90s and early 2000s.

Sometime around 2002, I realized that taking still photos would be better than videos. I still took some videos, but I really focused on pictures. That is the advice I would give a new parent. Sure, have a video camera for the game or concert, but take photos. People actually look at those. 

Similarly, I have been keeping a kind of journal or diary for many years in many forms. About the same time I moved to photos, I made a commitment to myself to write every single day. My purpose was to reflect on my day, record my thoughts while they were still in my head, and to think about how one day informed and shaped the days to come. I have written some kind of journal entry every day since. 

I go back to my journals for a variety of reasons. Sometimes it is mere nostalgia, but more often it is to remind myself about a specific person, event, or place. I review my journals about trips when we are returning to those places. I will use my journal as a tickler when I am seeing someone I have not seen in a long time to remind myself about our last meeting. Often, I consult my journal so I can build on my past experience and not simply fall into the same potholes all over again. My journals are a piece of my ever-expanding external memory. 

However, there are huge swaths of my journal that have sat on the computer ignored like those home videos. I decided it is time to look them over, too. So each month, I am going to read my journal from twenty years ago –and sometimes, I will write a ‘then and now piece here. 

Strangely, I can’t find any journals from 2002. I changed computers and I have a large number of files I can’t open. Perhaps some are from 2002. There was a good reason I didn’t write regularly: I was juggling teaching, parenting, and involvement in several community organizations. And I was very young and very busy

I did go back and look at my journals from 1998 to the beginning of 2001. It was embarrassing and powerful, familiar and far away. It was a bit sad and less nostalgic than I thought it would be.  

My first entries are in October of 1998. One of my former students and neighbor had suddenly passed away at college. It was a terrible tragedy and it affected me strongly. 

But the joys of parenting were just as present, my son “continues on his journey to personhood. He is such a personality. He loves strings, wires and anything resembling them. He is fascinated by the VCR. He is so playful and fun. He loves to be sung to. Parenthood is the best thing I have ever done.” 

I complained about the motivational speakers who came to my school, worried about students who were not succeeding, and reflected constantly on my teaching. My tone is so authoritative and confident. I laughed while I read. 

I reflected on a visit to the Museum of Science and Industry with my daughter, she “loved the new Pioneer Zepher train and the animatronic talking statues and mule! She was non-pulsed by the U505 Submarine and the Fairy Castle (which really surprised me). She loved the Omnimax theater presentation of ‘The Mysteries of Egypt’  -especially the fast flight over the Nile. Three times she looked at me and said ‘I really love this, Daddy.’” 

I was very focused on getting my grading completed. I planned when and how many essays and quizzes and projects and debates I could grade. Ungraded work weighed heavily on me. Although, I was a part-time teacher (and a full-time father), but I still had hours of homework! 

There were college recommendations, baby sitters, doctor visits, meals, in-services, clubs, performances, vet visits, and family trips to Florida and California. Traveling with young children is not a vacation. It is a trip – at best. 

So now, as January looms, I will open up journal entries from January 2003. I remember some things about that time. I am sure there will be more I have forgotten. I am not sure what I will find – and if what I find is not worth remembering, you won’t hear from me. 

Twenty years is a long time. We were different people then. Those people share a lot with us today– but we are no longer them. I am hoping that by looking at those old journals, I can learn about where I have been and better understand where I am so I can make choices about where I am going. We’ll see! Read on! 

Watch Out Parents: Big Conservative is Not Just Coming After Teachers and Librarians

We need to talk about how you are interacting with your children at home. What are you teaching them? How are you modeling well? Are you making the right choices - the best choices? Would your legislators and political leaders approve of how you are raising your children? Do you talk about CRT? Are you too accepting of gender non-conforming behavior or ideas? Would you allow your child to use they/them pronouns? If so, Big Conservative might knock on your door for this kind of thought crime. 

We hear about parents’ choice. That is the rationale for a slew of censorship across more than a dozen states. However, which parents? What choices? For the most part, these book-banning (and sometimes burning) movements are aligned with a far wrong wing political agenda. They do not reflect ALL parents’ choices, just a specific conservative religious and usually white one.  

So this isn’t just about parents having a say in what their kids read in school. This is about ideologues having control over your children’s educations. Teachers and librarians were the first to experience this intense scrutiny and vitriol, but this movement will not end with them. 

You may think, what I teach my children in my own home is not anyone’s business but my own – and you would be right as long as what you were doing was aligned with Big Conservative. But if it is not, your behavior might be labeled child abuse and you as a negligent parent. 

Several states banned children who identify as a gender other than the one assigned at birth from receiving any interventions. They criminalized the act of assisting these children from even exploring anything beyond their gender at birth – even if their parents did it! 

So if you are looking at teachers and librarians and thinking, just pick less controversial texts, just make your lessons about the subject area and not about social issues, know this: that same message will be tailored for parents who don’t agree with the censors and extremists. 

Let’s go one step further: How will these wrong wing censors know you are veering away from their prescribed curriculum? Your children will tell them. The idea that children would “turn in” their parents was common in totalitarian and fascist regimes. Whether it was the Hitler Youth, the Soviet Union’s Young Pioneers, or Communist Youth reading Mao’s Little Red Book, this technique has deep roots in authoritarian governments’ control of parenting. 

So as you are confronting those who don’t want their kids to “feel uncomfortable” in school because topics deal with parts of our past that are problematic, this is just the first battle in a larger war for who decides what your child learns – in and out of school. 

As with abortion, immigration, and elections, choice just means sticking with Big Conservative’s point of view; freedom means the right to express opinions that echo specific politicians in a specific party. They are not advocating for freedom and choice, they are creating vehicles to coerce and control – and their reach will not end at the schoolhouse – if we don’t stop it, it is going to ram through the door and enter your house! 

Thank Goodness for Teachers!

The school year is starting. Some of us welcome the “back to school” sales, while others see them as the death knell of summer’s freedom. And even though they are not paid during the summer, schoolteachers have spent an unfair and disproportionate part of it getting ready to receive our children. 

Professors, teachers, and especially public school faculty have become political punching bags recently. Not only is it disgusting and unfair, but it is also sharper than a serpent’s tooth! Public schoolteachers are the masons of success and, as we continue to learn from the pandemic, the foundation of our economy. When the schools stopped, the great machinery of business and industry stalled and sputtered. 

So let us give thanks for those wonderful souls who teach our children. Let us give thanks to those who have earned enough education to join the upwardly mobile and the moneyed upper middle classes, but eschew just earning a living and instead choose a vocation of giving. 

Let’s face it; those who teach could have been bankers, lawyers, doctors, scientists, artists, and all manner of professionals. Instead, they chose service to the children and our communities. They deserve our gratitude – and support! 

Get off their backs! If you don’t like the book, read your child another one. If you don’t like the ideas, discuss your beliefs with your children. While what happens in school certainly shapes children, it pales compared to what happens at home. If what you, as parents, are teaching your children can be so easily washed away by school lessons or activities, that speaks to what is going on at home far more than what is happening in the classroom. 

Consider this: teachers receive and welcome your children, even on the days when things have not gone well, even on the days when your kids were upset with you or you with them, even when you thought that maybe this whole parenting thing was a big mistake, even on the days when your children wondered if you still loved them. To whom did they turn? Their teachers. And their teachers reassured and supported them. You’re welcome. 

I have been concerned about using the term love here because it has been dirtied and maligned by those who cheat on their spouses, swindle their customers, lie to their constituents, and then tell you that you can’t trust teachers. It has been sexualized by those who pay hush money to sex workers and similarly would silence teachers who want to help our children make this a safer and saner society –for our kids and all of us. 

Because, like good parents, teachers love our children. They sacrifice for our children. They are not perfect. Like parents, they range from stellar to so-so. Like politicians, they make mistakes, even in service of larger goals. Yet, like good shepherds, they lead our children to find nourishment, comfort, community, and enlightenment. 

Stop beating up teachers and start extolling and exalting them. They hold our country together. They love our children even when we falter. 

And frankly, some of your children have questions they are afraid to ask you. Some of your children are curious about the books you have stolen from the library and destroyed. They want to talk to you about the concepts you want teachers to hide from them. Banning these ideas from the classroom will not prevent this exploration. It will not stop kids from thinking. It will change their view of their parents.  

Do you want your children to realize that, sometimes, their teachers have their best interests at heart even when their parents are silent and afraid? Thank goodness their teachers are there even when their parents want to shut down the conversation. In the age of the internet, banning books and forbidding discussion will never stop the ideas. Teachers know this. Some folks fear this. There is no stopping it. 

Teachers are the support structure and safety net of our society. As we send our children back to the classrooms, let us be grateful. 

Where are the Guardian Angels?

The shooting at Robb Elementary School in Uvalde, Texas is overwhelming. Each time I think about the horrible events of May 24, I find it is so painful that I need to deflect to something else, anything else. The thought of that kind of loss is nearly too difficult to imagine.  

I was teaching the day that Laurie Dann walked into Hubbard Woods Elementary School in Winnetka and began shooting. My school moved to “red alert,” which was designed to prevent senior pranks, when it was reported that the shooter was headed northwest. My school is only a few miles northwest of Hubbard Woods. This was more than thirty years ago. 

There are no words to console a grieving parent or partner. There is no pain I can imagine worse than the death of a child. It is so hideous and powerful and painful. Why must parents keep experiencing loss because of school shootings? 

What is wrong with us that we refuse to protect our children sitting in their classrooms? What is wrong with us that we argue about the rights of children not yet born, but we refuse to protect fourth graders? How can people rush to protect gun rights at the cost of children’s lives?  Anyone who has worked in education knows that putting more guns in school will not address this problem. It is a false fantasy solution that ignores everything we know about these situations. 

Even the National Rifle Association prohibits guns at its convention! Arming teachers will work, but having a convention full of gun owners won’t? I don’t understand. 

Let’s start a new organization: No Retro Abortions. This organization would advocate that we ban abortions beyond the 15-week or 3-month or the latest of late-term timelines and argue that even abortions that take place after birth should be forbidden. The organization could be called by its initials: N.R.A. 

Recently, I read a short story called, “Mr. Death” by Alix Harrow. The story is nominated for the prestigious Hugo award, and.I read the nominees every year so I vote for the winners. 

This fantasy story follows a relatively new “reaper” who ferries souls across the river of death. He is given assignments and then sits with the person as they die and accompanies them to the other side. However, as the story opens, he is given a horrible assignment: a child of only 30 month: a two year old. 

Our focal character has deep misgivings and does his best to rationalize and justify the child’s death. But he can’t. He lost his own child and has experienced this kind of pain first hand. As the story proceeds, he moves from giving the child a little extra time to being unable to complete his assignment. He refuses to complete the assignment even though it will mean much more than losing his job, it will probably mean he will be consigned to oblivion. 

If you are going to read the story, this is the place to stop reading. I am about to spoil it. Read the story and come back or skip to the paragraph beginning, “Lovers of life…” 

Here is the connection: when our reaper refuses to take the child and is willing to sacrifice everything, he is surprised to find that he is transformed. He is no longer a reaper and instead, he is a guardian. He stands beside the child as a  protector. 

Lovers of life, pro-choice, pro-life, we need guardians now. Our children need us all to become angels who protect them: in their classrooms, churches, synagogues, movie theaters, and homes. Not with more instruments of death, but with thoughtful and rational laws and rules. Other countries do this; we can do this. 

Can we transform from partners of death to protectors of life? The Supreme Court will soon rule about how the unborn should be protected. What about the newly born? What about the fourth graders? What about our children and grandchildren? 

Thou shall not murder. Put down your weapon and accept your wings. Protect the children. Please. 

Reading For Treasure: Winter Break Reading

Reading for Treasure is my list of articles (and other readings) that are worth your attention. Click here for an introduction.

I started creating lists of articles because what I really wanted to do was either to email them to my teacher friends or post them on social media – but I didn’t want to be that retired guy who is always sending me articles I don’t have time (or desire) to read. I often do a short description of the article, but today I am trying only providing a quotation to whet your appetite. Let me know if that matters at all. Perhaps all we need is the title? Nonetheless, these are six good education-related articles worth your attention. 

“Trust the Teachers” by David W. Blight, The Atlantic 
 “What American teachers most need is autonomy, community respect, the right to some creativity within their craft, time to read, and, perhaps above all, support for their intellectual lives. Most would not mind a pay raise.” 

“When parents scream at school board meetings, how can I teach their children?” by Jennifer Wolfe, CNN
“My students know that to move forward toward understanding and engagement, we have to be willing to talk about the hard stuff….Our country deserves people willing to have difficult conversations and solve problems together. We need to turn toward each other, not away from each other into spaces where uncomfortable discussions are treated like a crime. Without civil discourse, we risk tumbling toward civil unrest.” 

“Parents slam state board’s proposal to triple number of annual standardized assessments for students: ‘We must keep testing at the absolute minimum’” by Karen Ann Cullotta, Chicago Tribune
“A state plan that could triple the number of federally mandated tests Illinois students must take in the coming years is being slammed by some educators and parents who say after the recent loss of classroom learning during the COVID-19 pandemic, the last thing kids need is more testing.” 

“Voice, Chat and DM: Remote Learning Tools That Make Sense In Person” by Caroline Smith, KQED Mindshift
"But Cohn discovered advantages to her students typing some of their assignments during virtual education. Watching her students’ writing appear on their respective Google Docs in real time meant she could provide simultaneous feedback. The process of editing on the computer — liberated from the messiness of revising on a piece of paper — made the process less burdensome and more enjoyable for her students."

“College Admissions Are Still Unfair” by James S. Murphy, The Atlantic
“There is also an important component of racial justice in dropping legacy preferences. The practice overwhelmingly benefits white applicants and harms first-generation, immigrant, low-income, and nonwhite students. A 2018 lawsuit against Harvard revealed that 77 percent of legacy admits were white, while just 5 percent were Black and 7 percent were Hispanic. At Notre Dame, the class of 2024 had five times as many legacies as Black students.” 

“School Stumbles Upon Chalkboards From 1917 During Renovation, Perfectly Preserved Lessons Provide Rare Look Into Past” Dusty Old Thing
“Construction workers were removing chalkboards– taking them down to replace them with new Smart Boards– when they stumbled upon some older chalkboards underneath. Luckily, they stopped to examine the chalkboards before destroying them, and they quickly realized that the boards were from 1917… Nearly 100 years ago! Stuck underneath layers of other boards, these antique chalkboards had been preserved with the chalk still on them, providing an amazing view of life in a mid-20th-century classroom.”

I am currently rereading The Parable of the Sower by Octavia Butler  

Reading for Treasure: April

Reading for Treasure is my list of articles (and other readings) that are worth your attention. Click here for an introduction!

This photo essay is a celebration of so many good things! The New York Times headline doesn’t begin to describe the celebration of this wonderful piece: “Asian and Asian-American Photographers Show What Love Looks Like.” 

Why are COVID numbers going up when more and more people are being vaccinated? The Atlantic explores the ramifications of acting like one is vaccinated when one is not. The article, “Vaccine Cheat Days Are Adding Up” is a quick exploration of why we need to “‘Just hold on a little longer.’”

The title of my blog should make it clear that I am a huge Mr. Rogers fan. This wonderful little article from The Washington Post defies expectations when the author tells us about, “What happened when I showed vintage Mister Rogers to my 21st-century kids.” It reinforces our continuing need for all the wonderful qualities of Fred Rogers. 

Nonprofit Quarterly published a piece that was originally published on the author, Dax-Devlon Ross’s blog.   “A Letter to My White Male Friends of a Certain Age” asks us to think not only about how racism hurts us, as White people, but to engage with Blackness and step up and really fight it. It is a nuanced and detailed letter that I strongly recommend you read. 

Chicago Tribune reports that “the American Academy of Pediatrics released a statement this week affirming its commitment to protecting the health and well-being of LGBTQ young people and condemning legislation that does the opposite.” Specifically, the AAP opposes recent anti-trans legislation:  “Stop targeting transgender kids in youth sports, says American Academy of Pediatrics. Bravo.” 

Parenting never stops. No matter how old you are or your children’s stage of life, parenting is a lifetime commitment. As most (I really want to say all) teachers will tell you, some parents are far too involved in their children’s activities. When we rob our children of their independence and agency, especially for our own well-being, we stunt their development – at any age. This article from Fatherly, presents “7 Signs You're a Codependent Parent — And What to Do About It.”  

Finally, some good simple advice from Lifehacker; I never thought about the color of my child’s swimsuit or how it might help with their water safety. This article provides some simple commonsense recommendations: “Look at These Safety Color Charts Before You Buy Your Kids' Next Swimsuit”

I am currently reading Dark Matter by Blake Crouch

To Open Schools or Not To Open Schools

That is the question. It is a fiery debate in my community and across the nation and the world. The largest school districts in the United States have gone fully remote. Communities with under 3% infection rates are closed, but others with 50% rates are open! Some European schools are open, but Israeli schools look like they are about to close. Evidence suggests that younger children may not spread the infection like older students, but concerns for staff members, who are often older, makes navigating in-person schooling extremely challenging. 

And then there is another argument: remote learning is uneven at best and remote learning disadvantages the most vulnerable students. However, you roll the data, whatever proof you provide about the dangers (or lack of them) of bringing children back into school, blaming teachers’ ability to teach remotely is not only the weakest rationalization but also a gross oversimplification of the problem. Some classes and teachers are doing a fantastic job with remote learning, while others continue to struggle. Why? Schools and classrooms are systems; the teacher is only one piece of that picture. 

The devil is in the details. 

With rising infection rates in most communities, it is difficult to argue that bringing people of any age together is a good idea right now. The logistics of having a percentage of students rotate through in-person classes have also proven problematic. Teachers in many districts are teaching a handful of students in their classrooms and the rest online. For many of these, what this really means is teaching all of them online, but some of them online in person. Is that better? Many students in these districts would prefer to be on their computers without their masks at home, rather than sitting in school doing the same thing. 

There is also the schedule question: Some schools have to change students' teachers and schedules in order to balance the numbers in each class of students who are coming in with those who are staying home. Is it worth changing teachers, times, and even courses so that students can be in the building? I can hear the complaints now, “Yes, I want my child in school, but she has to still be in Mr. Green’s class!” 

Then there is the piece that is so contentious that no one wants to touch it: even if we make schools completely safe and infection-free, what happens in the community may sabotage our precautions. On one of my many walks, I chatted with a neighbor who is a medical doctor. Although he would like to see his kids in school, he is aware of parties and gatherings going on in the community that are dangerous and defy safe practices. We may seal the schools, but the community creates leaks! 

I have seen evidence of this as I walk the neighborhood: gatherings of bikes in driveways, groups of cars picking up and dropping off at homes, and backyard parties. Some of the parents and children are wearing masks, but often they are not. 

Learning is a social and emotional experience. Anxious people don’t function well. They don’t learn or teach well. People do not thrive in stressful situations. Even if you say, just bring in those students and staff who are okay coming in, that has problems, too. We need specific numbers of certain people to come in or school doesn’t work. What if we get too many of some and not enough of others? The math teachers will come in, but the science teachers won’t. We don’t have enough custodians, secretaries, technology staff – you get the idea. How does that help? Should the burden be placed only on a few? 

Kids need to be in school. Teachers want to be in school. Right now, it is a knot we are unable to untangle. School staff should be at the front of the line to receive vaccines. Will those screaming for schools to open support closing everything else (bars, restaurants, gyms, stores, etc.) and abide by a lockdown order? That is how Europe opened schools! Can we trust our neighbors to play by the rules? 

Only once community transmission of this illness falls and staff and students are protected, can schools can. Americans don’t seem to be willing to make the trade-offs to open them any sooner.