The Golden Rule

When I heard about the shootings in Atlanta on Tuesday, I soon began playing in my head a song from childhood.  It became an earworm, which I still can't get out of my mind.  Called "Wun Long Pan," from The Blue Book of the John W. Schaum Piano Course series, it introduces students to sixteenth notes through the following lyrics:

"Wun Long Pan, Is famous Chinese Detective,
Wun Long Pan, He gives the crooks a chase.
Wun Long Pan, Is famous Chinese Detective,
Wun Long Pan, He always solves the case."

Here's the picture that accompanies this simple, clunky tune:

The year before I started piano lessons and learned to play "Wun Long Pan," my second-grade teacher taught us about Mao Zedong, whose name at the time was spelled in English as Mao Tse-tung.  He had most likely appeared in an issue of My Weekly Reader.  All I remember about this lesson is the way my teacher pronounced his name: Mayo Tease Tongue.

Wun Long Pan and Mayo Tease Tongue were my introductions to Chinese culture in the early 1960s.  The sad thing is I don't think much has changed since then.  Too many Americans wouldn't object to the illustration of Detective Pan, the absurdity of his name, or the disturbing syntax of the lyrics.  Moreover, newscasters and politicians continue to mispronounce Asian names, either as deliberate insults or as insensitive slights.  As one student said in response to a survey at the University of Alberta, "It is important for me to have my heritage name pronounced correctly because it makes me feel like I belong."

Exactly.  That's one of our main problems today.  Too many fellow citizens feel unwelcome and unworthy, as if they don't belong.  We can fix this, and it begins with respect: treating others as we would have them treat us.  Sound familiar? 

Education 101

Saturday's editorial in The New York Times, "Reopening Schools Will Be a Huge Undertaking. It Must Be Done," elicited almost 2,000 largely oppositional comments.  In it, the editorial staff argued that public schools should open this fall with unprecedented federal funding and with imaginative use of outdoor space.  As one reader noted, the word "teachers" appeared only once, in the second-to-last paragraph.

This says it all to me and, at the same time, doesn't surprise me.  "What do our teachers think about re-opening?" seems like an obvious question.  Yet for too long our society has discounted the role and expertise of its teachers.  We don't pay them enough, we don't support them enough, and we don't consult them enough. . . but we ask them to solve society's problems that society fails to solve.

Consider for starters poverty, hunger, racial disparities, and economic inequality.  We expect our teachers to overcome these challenges and ensure that all of their students achieve at a defined level-- despite low salaries, marginal benefits, and often poor working conditions.   At a most basic level, the schools that my kids attended lacked soap in the bathroom dispensers, doors on stalls, sufficient cleaning supplies, working windows, and mold- and asbestos-free classrooms.  Even when there's no coronavirus circulating, many Durham schools are neither safe nor clean.

Just as the pandemic has exposed the failure of public health and elder care in the United States, so it exposes public education.  How did we get to the point where teachers buy their own paper?  Need subsidized housing?  Work second jobs?  Crowdfund surgeries and new equipment?  Why do we tolerate dilapidated buildings and aging school buses?  Why do we short-change our children and their teachers?

It's past time to ask these questions.  Covid-19 will eventually resolve, but the ills that plague our schools will not unless we demand something different.  As fellow citizens protest policing and racism, let's add public education to the conversation.  It's related, after all, and it serves our future and our national treasure: our children.

Rebuilding

When I restarted this blog four months ago, I was excited to think that I'd be writing about the coming presidential election, starting with the Democratic primaries and moving into the general election.  I love national politics; I'm fascinated by the two parties, the candidates who emerge, the winnowing that takes place, the roll of pollsters and pundits, and the final call on a Tuesday night in November.

But this time it's different.  The Democratic primary yielded no single candidate who ever captured my whole-hearted enthusiasm, and the Republican party has tied itself to a president whose values upend the country I love.  Donald Trump's rally last night in Tulsa, Oklahoma, was so offensive and destructive that it's hard to see how we'll recover.

Still, Donald Trump didn't come out of nowhere.  He tapped into a hatred that has long haunted us, one that surrounds us every day but one that we choose not to see.  George Floyd's murder made it impossible for us to look away, finally, but the hard work ahead feels equally impossible.  I don't know where to begin.  I feel weary, not up to the challenge.

I know that it's time for younger voices, for younger leadership.  Kids and young adults are wiser than the rest of us, certainly when it comes to sensitivity surrounding race, gender, and culture.  Many in my generation grew up with Dick and Jane readers and Father Knows Best television shows.  Our worlds were white through and through and often still are.  How do we change?

All kinds of ways. . . books we must read, voices we must hear, organizations we must support, ideas we must consider. . . and votes we must take.  Here's what must happen as elections move forward:

Joe Biden hires and hears consultants much younger than he.

Donald Trump's supporters face their hatred; if and when they don't, the rest of us call them out.

Elections officials do everything they can to ensure a fair vote.

Candidates at every level make clear where they stand on institutional redesign--from police departments to prisons to public schools to health care to immigration to climate change to banking--and we elect those who will follow through.

We, the people, start to rebuild our country.

Abundance

Growing up in Doylestown, Pennsylvania, I hardly knew anyone different from me.  We were almost exclusively white, middle-class Christians from so-called "traditional" families.  My kids' experiences growing up in Durham, North Carolina, couldn't be more different.  At times this has troubled me.  I've been sorry that they weren't surrounded by kids more similar to them, and I've wondered if they missed out on something.  When I see a picture like this, I realize I couldn't be more wrong.  After all, what does it really mean to be "different"?

Teacher and Student of the Year

Senora Gomez and Miranda, an excellent teacher for an excellent student.  What more can you hope for?

Landings

A friend whose mind dwells largely in the past often talks about the landing on the stairwell in her childhood home.  She gestures to me as if I can see the spot where the first set of stairs stops and the second takes a turn upwards in a new direction.  Every time she describes this scene, I can see and feel the landing in my Aunt Myrtle's house, a place I haven't been in years.

There's something comforting about landings, these spaces betwixt and between.  As a child I snuggled into the farthest corner and sat, hoping to be unobserved.  It was as if no one knew I were there, even though the living room was filled with family.

I think of landings when I read articles about new online courses and the possibility of getting college degrees from home.  There are advantages for sure, and yet I can't help but think that college is a landing for many of us, a place we climb to--and pause--and then journey upwards again.

Our fast-paced, acquisitive culture doesn't allow for many landings.  We're always on the ascent until, like my friend, we're forced into descent.  Maybe this is why the landing is so important to her now.  It's a safe place in her mind, a place where nothing really happened.  How reassuring in its own way.  Nothing--and yet, paradoxically, everything--happening in this simple square partway up the stairs.

Experts Part 1

One day last week on "All Things Considered," the host invited listeners to call in with our opinions about a containment policy towards Iran. Since I didn't really know what containment meant, I wasn't about to pick up the phone and express my thoughts. Fortunately, not too many other people did either.

Every day in America talk radio is filled with opinions from ordinary people like me. I wonder about the merits of giving all of us a voice. When we're all experts on everything, are we less likely to hear the opinions of those who might actually know something that we don't?

Such thinking--that all opinions are equal--serves only to reinforce the strain of anti-intellectualism that runs through our culture. The suspicion of those who are educated has always run deep, but Paul Krugman writes in a recent New York Times column that the Republican presidential candidates have sharpened the attack in new ways. The resulting disrespect for knowledge gives all of us permission to ignore expertise.

Therefore, we can ignore the wisdom of scientists who explain climate change; we can ignore the wisdom of economists who explain deficit spending; and we can ignore the wisdom of historians who explain Afghanistan.

I like to give my opinions, too. But when I don't know what I'm talking about, I hope I defer to those who do.

A Modest Proposal

In the spirit of New York City's release of teacher evaluation scores last week, I propose that we conduct a similar process for our nation's doctors. Included in our report will be only general practitioners and pediatricians, since they--like teachers--are paid less than others with comparable degrees. We'll use as our measure the weight of each doctor's patients over a two-year period, just as NYC's teachers were evaluated based only on student scores on standardized tests.

Other measures will not be included. Doctors will receive no credit for preventive health screenings, effective management of chronic diseases, accurate diagnoses, or patient advocacy. Factors contributing to patients' weights will not be considered; all that matters is the number of patients who maintain a healthy weight. Doctors will lose points for overweight and obese patients, and for any patient who gains weight during the evaluation.

Results will be published online in The New York Times, The Washington Post, the L.A. Times, and USA Today. All you'll need to do is type in the name of your doctor and her score will appear. Kathleen Sibelius, Secretary of Health and Human Services, will quote her co-worker Education Secretary Arne Duncan on the release of such information: "Silence is not an option."

The American Medical Association, in protesting the evaluation process, will be denounced for behaving like an angry teachers' union. Individual doctors will be held in contempt by their patients, who will think they know more about practicing medicine than doctors do. Fewer young people will apply to medical school, realizing that professions treated with disrespect can't flourish.

Instead they'll try teaching, and end up right where they started.

Oddities

We live in strange times. Often I read the news and wonder how we got where we are--sometimes we seem far off track, and other times we seem surprisingly progressive. Here's what jarred me this week:

That a billionaire who owns the New Jersey Nets will run against Vladimir Putin for president of Russia.

That the Durham Public Schools website posted crucial parent information initially only in Spanish.

That somehow it's OK that the secretary of health and human services, Kathleen Sibelius (acting on behalf of Barack Obama), can overrule F.D.A. scientists and researchers.

That American military base schools are not subject to "No Child Left Behind" (George Bush) or "Race to the Top" (Barack Obama)--and that their students perform better than peers at regular public schools.

That it's still not OK to eat raw chocolate chip cookie dough, even when you make it yourself.

That our love for dangerous and violent sports--especially football and ice hockey--isn't all that different from that which drove Roman Colosseum fans centuries ago.

That advocates for the Keystone XL oil pipeline include TransCanada employees Paul Elliott and Gordon Griffin, both friends of Hillary Clinton--who, in her role as secretary of state evaluates the proposal and recommends for or against it.

That Michele Bachmann's husband Marcus has a Ph.D.

That nasty Newt Gingrich has a shot at Iowa.

That we're still dealing with voter suppression efforts after all these years, and that--fortunately--Attorney General Holder understands the danger.

Wanted Desperately: Leadership on All Fronts

It feels like the calm before the storm. These last weeks before Labor Day have everyone hunkered down, quiet, recovering from the fury of Irene. Ten years ago we learned in horror what could happen after Labor Day, when airplanes flew as they pleased and took down a nation unaccustomed to such assault.

Our troubles now seem more far-reaching than they did then and cry out for leaders to lead. Will President Obama stand up boldly for jobs creation in his speech next week (see Eugene Robinson, Washington Post) or will he cave to his instinct for compromise? Will Democrats, reasonable Republicans, and Independents stand up for balanced approaches to our financial woes, or will they continue to let extremists set an extreme agenda?

The times call for those who don't normally view themselves as leaders to lead as well. Will scientists remain in their labs while Governor Perry and his ilk make false statements about climate change and evolution, or will someone stand up? Will ministers hide behind their pulpits while politicians turn their backs on the poor and disadvantaged, or will someone stand up?

And will our press and our people do their jobs as well? A media that constantly inflames rather than educates does a disservice to all, and a population of apathy where so few people vote emboldens demagogues.

A nation where no one leads is a sorry nation indeed. The resulting vacuum leaves opportunities for the worst sorts to exercise power. We need only to read history--or to observe the behavior of ourselves and colleagues at work--to understand this simple lesson.

Teachers on the Dole

Subsidized housing for teachers? Yes, in Dare County, North Carolina, home of the tourist communities comprising the northern half of the Outer Banks. The second such reduced-rent apartment building in the county opened yesterday. According to Elizabeth Piff, executive director of the Dare County Education Foundation, one classroom can go through 4 teachers in a year because housing is too expensive.

We have a serious problem when we pay teachers so little that they can't afford to live where they work. True, teachers in some parts of the country make good livings. But 31 of our states pay teachers, on average, $40,000 - $49,000 per year, and 5 states pay less than that.

The controversy about public education rages on with new twists about charter schools, testing, teacher incompetence, and the role of unions--all deserving our attention. Until we truly value education, though, and pay people what their work is worth, we will continue our descent into an uneducated society.

Thoughts on Libya

1. President Obama's speech on Monday night was thoughtful and compelling. I understand his decision to intercede in Libya, and I appreciate his determination to protect others from genocide.

2. I don't understand, though, where the money comes from to fund warfare in America. It's like a giant keg at a frat party--simply turn on the spigot and let the gold flow. Troop escalations, no-fly zones, pre-emptive wars--the money is always there.

3. But when it comes to domestic needs, we're broke. Our Congress is now arguing over which vulnerable group to stiff next, and we don't have money to feed our hungry or educate our children.

4. Are we the world's self-sacrificing protector?

5. Or are we simply in love with war?

"We Should Make Our Goals"

Guest columnist Miranda Straubel, a 4th grader, writes today about benchmark tests used in the public schools to evaluate student progress. Like most of the tests associated with the "No Child Left Behind Act" and the newer "Race to the Top" funds, these often generate more problems than the tests are worth.

"We should make our goals." That is what my teacher says all day long. Our goals are to get 3 or 4 more correct answers than the previous benchmark. We should underline important words and numbers, show our work, and check our answers. So on, so forth.

This is very important. If we make our goals, we get entered into a drawing to win a laptop. Nice, right? Well, actually, not really. See, I scored 41 our of 45 on the last benchmark for reading. As my dad says, "You can practically only go down from there." We also get 15 minutes of extra recess if we make our goals. Not very fair, I would say.

How about you? Please comment with your opinion below.

History Lessons

Should anyone really be surprised anymore when oppressed people finally rise up and overthrow their governments? We need only look to examples from history--our own and that of other nations--to recognize the events playing out in Egypt. And we need only look to our own history to remember what can happen when we side with dictators.

History is everywhere in the news these days. Michele Bachmann told us recently that our founding fathers worked hard to end slavery, and the Republicans cite the Constitution whenever they can (except when they confuse it with the Declaration of Independence). And when anyone bothers to take note of the endless war in Afghanistan, inevitable comparisons arise to both the Vietnam War and to the Soviet defeat.

That it's important to understand history should go without saying. Yet our public schools in Durham are ignoring this fact. With pressures building from the "No Child Left Behind" Act and now "Race to the Top" funds, our teachers must focus almost exclusively on math and reading. Science still gets its own time slot, but social studies is an afterthought. It's no longer an essential academic subject.

As it is, Americans haven't done a great job in learning the lessons of history. Now it seems like there's no longer history to learn.

Reality Checks

Just days before the assassination attempt in Tucson, my friend Dee and I were talking about how impossible it is in America to speak honestly about the problems we face.

We all know, for example, that children who arrive at school ill-fed and unprepared are unlikely to succeed; yet to say so is racist. We see our dismal rankings in international health statistics and know that we don't have the best health care in the world; yet to say so is treasonous. We know that pouring billions of dollars into Afghanistan won't repair our crumbling bridges, roads, and airports; yet to say so is unpatriotic.

It didn't seem like anyone was speaking honestly about anything--until Saturday afternoon when Pima County Sheriff Clarence Dupnik let us have it. Outraged by the killings in his home community, he said that "the anger, the hatred, [and] the bigotry that goes on in this country is getting to be outrageous." He cited "the vitriol that comes out of certain mouths about tearing down the government" and lamented that "this has not become the nice United States that most of us grew up in."

Finally. Someone not afraid to speak the truth.

We need more people like Sheriff Dupnik--willing to name the ways our society has veered off-track and lost sight of the common values of decency, respect, and fairness. If a sheriff in Tucson, Arizona, can name so clearly an insidious undercurrent in modern America, then other elected officials can do the same.

We should expect no less from those who call themselves leaders.

Art to the Rescue

The teaching of art, at least in elementary school, isn't what it used to be. Gone are the days when you trace your fingers to make a turkey or spend weeks learning to paint a tree. Art teachers today use all types of media--yarn, paint, clay, beads--to help kids find the artist inside. Each child is successful; if you can't paint a tree, you can weave a mat. If you can't weave a mat, you can shape a pot. If you can't shape a pot, you can copy Matisse and produce a cutout. At day's end, each kid is an artist.

Which makes me wonder about all the handwringing over the state of education today. Good news, of course, goes unreported, so people don't know the amazing work in art and music and drama taking place in many of our schools. And, of course, some schools have dropped these programs altogether, so there's nothing to report. But if art teachers can find ways to educate kids and bring out their talent, why can't teachers of academic subjects do the same?

Perhaps the spirit of creativity and flexibility that underlies the teaching of art needs to be restored to the teaching of math and reading. Where there used to be time for academic teachers to engage their students through a variety of media--not unlike art teachers--they're now forced to prepare their students for standardized tests. If you feel a big yawn coming on, you're not the only one.

The tests are boring. Practice worksheets come home constantly. And despite the effort to make the tests inclusive and multicultural, the fact that Miguel buys 10 pounds of apples instead of Michelle doesn't eliminate the tedium. Standardized tests have an occasional place in education, but the everyday use of them has rendered inspired, creative instruction obsolete.


Thank God for the artists. In these bleak days when the "Race to the Top" means more standards and more tests, I'll take a sunflower any day. And it doesn't even need to be yellow.

End of Grade Tyranny

Today marks the beginning of End of Grade (EOG) tests in Durham County and in other districts across North Carolina. In honor of these colossal wastes of time, and, I would argue, hindrances to the education of our children, I have composed an acrostic poem similar to the ones my children compose in school when they're not forced to prepare for yet another test.

Endless cycle of pointless tests.
No time for real learning.
Death to creative instruction.

Original student work? What's that?
False sense of achievement.

Great minds stifled day after day.
Relentless onslaught of practice worksheets.
All math and reading all the time.
De Soto, Degas, de Gaulle. Social studies? Forget it.
Every child let down.

Teaching to the test is all that counts.
Education under siege by misguided bureaucrats.
Science suffers: it's not on the test, why bother?
Too much time spent on all the wrong stuff.
So many children left behind.

Drip, Drip, Drip Goes the Fundraising

Now that the school year is nearly over, I can say once again that we have received more fundraising appeals from our daughter's school than just about any other correspondence.

I can't remember all of the requests, but here's a partial list: tickets for the fall carnival; sweatshirts, t-shirts, and other clothes with the school's insignia; PTA memberships; Ident-A-Kits (in case my kid is kidnapped); my child's art emblazoned on pillowcases, note cards, and mugs; books purchased in my child's name for the library; a donation to the spring auction; and the book fair.

On top of this, I'm clipping Box Tops for Education from cereal boxes and toilet paper wrapping, and I'm supposed to have my Kroger card scanned to match a bar code for the school.

Wait a minute. Doesn't my kid go to public school? I didn't think I was supposed to foot the bill.

But this is how it goes these days, with schools so strapped for cash. More and more we're asked as parents to empty our pockets and supply such basics as colored pencils, markers, hand sanitizer, and Kleenex. And we're all hit up equally, regardless of our ability to pay. Professional working couples are asked to buy the same $20 sweatshirt as the single parent of four. Extended families of 15 relatives are asked to support the same auction as the family of one.

Moreover, schools in wealthier communities can raise more money from their parents than those schools in poorer communities. This furthers the disparity that already exists throughout our district.

It's not right. There's got to be a better way to provide schools with the funds they need. If we continue to rely on PTAs and parents' checkbooks, and not insist on full government support, we will continue the status quo of under-funded, inequitable schools.

A Nation Off Balance

During the same week that Goldman Sachs announced its record-breaking 2010 first quarter earnings of $3.3 billion, The New York Times reported that school districts across the country were planning to lay off teachers: 22,000 in California; 7,000 in Illinois; and 600 in nearby Charlotte-Mecklenburg school district. Quoting Superintendent Peter C. Gorman, “We are doing things and considering options I never thought I had to consider.”

Interestingly enough, that same week brought the news that a military commission of retired officers concluded that our national security is at risk because we have too many fat people. Yes, you read that right. Twenty-seven percent of all Americans between the ages of 17 and 24 are overweight. “This is the future of our Army we are looking at when we talk about [this age group],” Recruiting Command’s Mark Howell said. “The sad thing is a lot of them want to join but can’t.”

I also heard that same week a radio report about Senator Jim Webb’s commission on the state of our criminal justice system. Intrigued, I read more and learned, among other things, that though the United States comprises 5% of the world’s population, we house 25% of the world’s prisons. Moreover, four times as mentally ill people are in our prisons than in mental health hospitals.

What do these stories have in common? A nation off balance.

A nation where one company earns $3.3 billion in 3 months while schools are closing their doors cannot lead the world in education.

A nation whose citizens are too fat to serve cannot lead the world in national security.

A nation that imprisons 1 in every 31 adults cannot set the standard for criminal justice.

I’m reminded of a boat tilted into the water because too many people are standing on one side. It’s as if we’ve mindlessly accepted a state of affairs that’s now reached a tipping point, or perhaps has already passed it.

It takes more than the captain to correct the problem. We’re all in this together.

#22

Several years ago when a landscaper helped us lay out the large plant groupings in our front yard, she sketched a map of the plants and gave each one a number. It so happened that our daughter, in third grade that year, had the same number of students in her classroom. In her mind, plants #1 - #26 corresponded to each of her classmates. She was #22, a lovely and delicate mountain laurel.

That same year she came home one day from school and told us that her computer teacher, who identified the kids by number rather than by name, called on her in response to her hand raised in the air and said, with a degree of irritation, “What is it, #22?”

(As my uncle used to say, death isn’t the only great leveler. So are the public schools.)

Well, the story continues (as all stories do), and #22 grew up and this month turns 21. Her path, like her corresponding mountain laurel, has taken some unexpected nosedives. Beset with a rare health condition that plagued her on and off during childhood, she nonetheless managed to thrive in sometimes harsh conditions.

Her mountain laurel, though, didn’t make it through a drought one year. We replaced it with the Daphne pictured above, the new #22. Though not botanically related to the mountain laurel, Daphne means “laurel” and, as such, remains connected to the original plant.

The Daphne, it turns out, suits our daughter better. It’s a hardier plant and takes good care of itself. And it blooms in the late winter when not much else is happening in the yard and brings joy at just the right time.

We still joke now and then about that thoughtless computer teacher. When our daughter has a question, we sometimes say, “What is it, #22?” But the truth is, #22 wasn’t brought down; she wasn’t leveled by the public schools, by her health, or by the other trials that come with life.

Like her sturdy Daphne, she’s ready to bloom—even in the winter.