As much as some would like to deny it, teaching is a political profession. As professionals, our day-to-day lives - and those of our students - are shaped by legislation.
It should be fairly obvious, but in threatening teachers' bottom lines by threatening collective bargaining, and the negotiated contracts that provide teachers the protections that many have long taken for granted, the legislature managed to light a fire under teachers in a big way.
Since I began teaching, I've felt that it was important to not hide behind some illusion of colorblindness. My experience in the classroom has often been similar to what I experienced from the older boys in the garden that day: a mixture of shock and discomfort, particularly in naming whiteness, alongside cries that such a label must be "racist."
What I've been up to, and why I haven't been writing (in this space). A plea to other white folks to read and share John Metta's article, "I, Racist."
The web of connections between foundations, universities, and non-profit entities at the center of the free-market ed. reform movement in which Marguerite Roza is so thoroughly entangled tells a story that is often implied or assumed, but rarely illuminated.
What is the role of the educator working with students from marginalized populations around days of heightened civic pride and ritual? Can we find a way to teach critically; to teach our students how to think on a day when so often they are told what to think?
The title I chose for this blog reflects an unfortunate reality of life as a novice educator. After years of being pushed to investigate and carefully construct my ideas and arguments with the diligence of a historian, I find myself easily fitting my most complex thoughts into a single Facebook post.
Schooling in this historic moment must be about support more than about success on a test.