The More Things Change. . .

 We're officially four days from the start of the 2023-2024 school year. On August 28--my first day of inservice--I will have been a contracted teacher for:

*23 years, 13 days

*276 months, 13 days

*1201 weeks, 6 days

*8413 days

*201,912 hours

*12,114,720 minutes

*726,883,200 seconds 

A lot has changed in all that time. More that I care to enumerate in a blog post if I'm being honest. And. . in the interest of honesty. . . some of the changes in the last 23 years have been necessary and long overdue. Of those, one of the most impactful and important, IMO, has been creating learning spaces that are more inclusively representative of the contemporary landscape of learners. As an ELA teacher it was nice to be able to blend other works into the curriculum outside of the, largely, dead-white-dude canon.  As a reading interventionist, the LOOOOOOOOONG overdue realization that high school students who don't read at grade level need support has been a game changer. We might not be supporting all the students who need us (seriously. . . my building could use a few more of me), but we are also not ignoring the fact that they are there or--worse--blaming them for their learning gaps. Those two things, in my bubble of teaching, are the top of my "this is great" list. However, as with all things, there's a lot more going on than just my two pet passions. Other positive changes I've seen in the last 23ish years include: 

*Increased offerings and respect for Tech. Ed. courses

*More opportunities for students to earn college credit before leaving HS

*Deeper understanding of brain science and HOW students learn

*More access to technology for all students regardless their SES

*Increased awareness and support of mental health issues that impact students

^^^Now. . . these are all good changes. I'm 100% on board with them. BUT (and there's always a "but") not all of the changes I'd like to see have come to pass. It is my hope that in the next however-many-years-I-keep-doing-this-job I will see these changes:

*A way to manage student disengagement that actually works (UGH. Phones. Double UGH.)

*A change (return?) toward trusting teachers with curricular decisions

*More legitimate offerings for non-traditionally-successful students

*A "cease-fire" in the "Reading Wars" where people stop their agenda-filled-profit-seeking jibber jabbering and actually start looking critically at both quantitative and qualitative research. 

*A return in ELA to more reading and more writing. 

*A magical thing where people stop referring to adolescents as "kiddos" They're teenagers--not toddlers. 

I don't know if any of these things will happen. I know the lack of them is a constant irritation for me. . . and it's not an irritation that's creating a magical pearl either. I guess we'll just have to see where 23-24 takes us. 

Buckle up, folks. School's about to be in session. 

Ooof!!

I really am the worlds worst blogger. I forget this thing even exists. I don't even know if people look at it when I post it on Facedump.  Oh well. . . . I guess it's more for me than everyone else anyway. (Toot, toot, all aboard the narcissist train!!) I'm not even sure I could catch people up on what's been happening so I've decided to not even bother and just focus on the "here and now". . . whatever that means. 

I've been thinking a lot lately about my future in education. What role do I currently play within the larger scope of things? How can I pursue making my voice heard amongst the noise of corporate education? (I'm looking at you, Study Sync!) Will educators ever be trusted to use our expertise to make germane decisions for our students? . . . . . the list goes on and on. A lot of teachers in the system now want changes but have no voice to make those changes manifest. It's an unfortunate reality. It leads many of us to fantasize about how we could improve education if we were allowed to do so (I know, shocking!) 

Soooooo. . . . . without further ado, be prepared to take a step into, "if I ruled the educational universe" land. 

*Without a doubt, if I were omnipotent, I'd tear down almost every school building in the land and manifest buildings that people actually wanted to come work and learn in. I absolutely LOATHE school building design. I don't need to be in a concrete block, windowless, drab cave all freaking day.  My thinking is that if I hate it--and I can put up with a lot--my students must hate it too. We all know the factory model school sucks so why do we keep building them? Natural light, inviting spaces, and outdoor learning space is where it's at.  

*Another thing I'd like to metaphorically burn to the ground is the idea that highly educated individuals--who are experts in their fields--are incapable of making curricular decisions. Honestly. I'm convinced that Curriculum and Instruction programs were invented for the sole purpose of providing universities a way to separate working educators from their $$. Curriculum would go right back into the hands of classroom teachers.  I'm confident I have a better idea what my students need than someone who hasn't met them. I'm also confident I'm intelligent enough to make those decisions. Honestly. . . . I'd put my professional reading and learning habits against anyone's and I'm pretty sure I'd come out on top. 

*(Controversial Opinion Warning) I'd allow students to drop out at 16 with parental consent and proof of gainful employment. Yeah. . . I know. . . we live in a world where we're supposed to be making sure all students are "college and career" ready but--anyone who has looked at HS graduation requirements will know this--it's really more "college ready." All work is valuable and if students plan to build a life in unskilled labor (which can be done and often leads to skilled labor if the person is responsible) having them in a compulsory system until they are 18 is often more problematic than not--especially when continuing, adult education opportunities are easily accessible should they want to pick up further education later on. 

 *"Professional Development" would cease to exist as it is now. Schools would focus on one thing. . . ONE. . and master that before moving on to a zillion other things. We can do one or two things expertly or do a dozen things half-assed. I know which I would choose. 

*Three words: Year. Round. School. Summer learning loss is real and it's a major bummer. Additionally, I think burn out, behavior issues, and general everything would be improved with more breaks spread evenly throughout the year. Also, in terms of literacy education, that summer learning loss--where many students read absolutely NOTHING--is only furthering an already shocking achievement gap.  

*(Another COW) We need to do a better job tracking students in HS. Yes. I said it. Tracking. (RUN FOR THE HILLS!!!) Students who plan to go into the trades really don't need the same ELA as someone planning to pursue a 4-year degree. Why aren't we offering classes like technical reading and writing through our Tech programs for ELA credit? How about applied maths for kids who are (usually) already in the construction trades? Maybe an accounting and marketing class for those who are planning to start or work in the family business. This idea that everyone needs to take all the same Gen Eds is both outmoded and--dare I say it--grossly inequitable. On the flip side of that coin, why should students who are committed to further "traditional" academics have to sit through the antics of their classmates for whom the structure of a sonnet is completely irrelevant? Okay, I admit that's an oversimplified example but I think you all know where I'm going with this. 

*Testing: No. Thank. YOU!!!  What a monumental waste of instructional time. I can only think of two things I dislike more than state testing. 

There's so much more. . . I think I'll have to do a Part 2 post. . . . if I remember or if I get around to it. 

(Not So) Deep Thoughts On Sunday Afternoon:

I mentioned on Faceworld today that I had something to say about this meme. 

I should probably mention that I am handling my stress levels adequately and I'm fine. I've learned over the last two decades how to say "NO" and how to only volunteer for things if I feel I can handle them.  I am merely sharing the thinking this meme--coupled with knowing how overwhelmed a lot of teachers are feeling right now--generated in my brain this morning. 

A lot of my teacher pals have mentioned feeling completely overwhelmed. While I don't claim to know EXACTLY why this is, I have some pretty shrewd guesses. In my district we are currently implementing new curriculum, learning new testing software, tackling equity and inclusion issues, submitting weekly lesson plans (full disclosure--I hate doing these and think they are silly and a bit demeaning), learning other new software, having to remember to zoom when we have kids who are in quarantine, educator effectiveness, tracking kids down for testing in EL if they didn't test last year, and those are just the things I know are happening at the HS! I'm guessing there are a zillion other things going on at the elementary and middle levels. My first thought on this is that even though we are back in person--which is what everyone wanted--there are a lot of extra stressors that go along with that happening.

In my opinion, one of the most annoying (I'm not sure I'd say it was stressful) things is having to tell kids 812 times a day to put their masks up. My classroom students will comply and then I have to remind them later. Then they comply. All in all: not a huge deal.  They are trying. Masks slip. I make a joke and we keep working on it. Kids in the halls are a completely different matter. I'm estimating more than 10 and less than 20 kids have told me to fuck off since school started simply because I asked them to put their masks up.  This seems like an overly dramatic response--even from a teen. I wonder what they hear about masking at home? Now, I suppose I could follow them and write them up or something but, honestly, I have my own students to teach and that feels like a waste of time. This is just one of the "new and extra" things that many teachers are navigating right now. It's not that this is, in and of itself, that horrible. It is more that the masks issue is "one more thing" to stay on top of. 

Another thing that might be stressing my comrades out is this hue and cry to "get kids caught up!" and "mitigate learning loss!" from people who are metaphorically clutching their pearls.  Said persons often (I'm looking at you politicos) have zero experience teaching. Some of these persons are also so far removed from the classroom that they have no idea what teaching actually looks like in 2021. Do folks really think that a student who did not attend school for a year--who "ghosted" all their teachers--who turned in nothing--will catch up on a year's worth of learning while simultaneously learning new things this year? The student(s) who did those things--for whatever reason--are often not fully engaged while they are in person either. This is not a "learning" problem. This is an engagement, equity, and school culture problem. I wish folks would work on that first. 

Speaking of working on things first: In my humble opinion, the year after primarily virtual instruction should not be filled with 47 new things to learn and try. The absence from school buildings during the 20-21 school year really should have provided us (all of education but, most importantly, decision makers) with the space to rethink what we are doing in schools. It could have been a prime opportunity to undo/disrupt systems of inequity and oppression but I'm not seeing a lot of that happening anywhere. Instead, we seem to be charging head-long into the SSDD patterns of the past. Those schools and districts that ARE trying to do the work (I like to think my school is doing this), are often overwhelmed by all the other new things happening so we cannot always address the most important changes that need to happen first. I don't know if that's stress inducing or just maddening. Maybe it's both. Friends: we need to work on providing equitable, inclusive schools before anything else. Before new curricula, before new grading programs, before new software suites, and--really--before anything. While I acknowledge that systems such as grading practices and inclusive curriculum materials are part of that, I think schools are biting off more than they can chew right now. 

To counterbalance the imbalance of tasks that many teacher types are feeling right now, folks sometimes think they should remind teachers to, "practice self care." Ummm. . . . when there's so much going on and practically every facet of education is understaffed right now (The pandemic caused a huge number of retirements/resignations), saying something so trite and, truly, devoid of any real substance is silly--largely because there is very little time to do so. Most of us have families to care for and other obligations in addition to our work as educators. Now I'm not saying that every person who utters this phrase is being willfully callus, I do think it hits wrong right now especially considering that many teachers put others first as a function of their personalities. 

Here's my thinking on this whole thing: If you are in a leadership position, please consider this. When a teacher vocalizes that they are stressed and overwhelmed, instead of talking about self-care, taking time, finding balance, and all that other business. . . . . find a way to take something off their plates. We all know that some things are non-negotiables but we also all know there's a lot of "busy work" created for teachers that they really don't need to deal with in order to be excellent at their jobs. 

Back to School and COVID

There's been a lot of talk over the past few weeks about what we should do come August in regard to opening schools. Lots of folks are weighing in on whether or not kids should "return to normal" (which is code for going to school full time) or whether or not something else needs to happen. As a teacher, I have been both surprised and disheartened by the--in my opinion--unconscionable lack of regard for the safety of our students and staff in schools. As such, my feelings on going back to school in August have become rife with fear and anxiety over the past few weeks.



But first, let me be completely, transparently, stentorianly clear about this:



I would LOVE to go back to school as if COVID-19 had never happened. Let's get this out of the way first. I don't know a single teacher who wouldn't prefer to be in their buildings with their students going about their business without a care in the world. NONE of us want to "stay at home" just because--or out of some false sense of it being easier to teach from home. (Hint: It is NOT easier to teach from home--it blows goats if we are being completely honest.) Teachers who stay in the profession--as a general rule--love their jobs. We want to be doing the job the way it was intended: face-to-face, building relationships, and moving our students along in their development.



Having said that:



I "signed up" for a lot of things when I decided to go into teaching:

          *I signed up to work more than my contracted hours ("summers off" is hysterical).

          *I signed up to spend my own money on my classroom and on my students.

          *I signed up for a certain amount of rude foolishness from my students (Hey. . . they're

            teenagers. . . it happens).

          *I signed up for countless meetings which I may or may not enjoy being part of.

          *I signed up for never being paid commensurate with my level of education.

          *I signed up for doing a lot of parenting for kids with whom I share no DNA.

          *I signed up for doing more with less. . . All. The. Time.



^^^I think you can see where I'm going with this. This list is not exhaustive by any means.  I "signed up" for a lot of things that are tangential to teaching. Knowing these things going in, I spend very little time and emotional energy crabbing about them. I knew what I was getting myself into and I ascertained, well before I even began my education studies, I could live with these elements of being a teacher in the United States--even if I didn't always like some of the truths of my profession. In truth, it's a lot like deciding if you can live with your future spouse's weird foibles before getting married.



However:



When I think about returning to "school as normal" this fall--in the midst of a global pandemic and state-wide surge in COVID-19 cases I feel a strong sense of, "I did NOT sign up for this." As much as I want to be in school, I did not sign up to get sick and die in an environment that is--for all intents and purposes--a gigantic petri dish. Many of the parents I've talked to over the past few weeks have talked about "returning to normal" as though that is even a possibility right now. It's not. I'm also completely disinterested in normal being a world without me in it due to an overly zealous populous saying teachers and students need to be back in classrooms full time. I won't apologize for this. I am more interested in having long innings with my family than pretty much anything else in the universe. The thing about all of this is that--unlike the unpredictable nature of terrible events like school violence incidents--we have a pretty decent idea of what will happen if schools fully re-open in the fall: students and teachers will get sick and. . . some of them will die. (Look to the deaths in the NYC Schools at the outset of the pandemic if you need any proof that this WILL happen.)  The current discussion feels a whole lot like the powers that be are playing Russian Roulette with my life, the lives of my children, and the lives of my students. . .and. . . I did not sign up for that.



What would I like to see happening right now? I'd like to see districts around the country following the examples of their peers who have chosen safety first. I'd like to see us focus on training and developing a rich online learning experience for students instead of waiting around in this limbo while districts/boards try to decide how to anger the least amount of people. I'd like to do the hard thing now--and start the school year remotely--so that I CAN go back to school when a vaccine is finally in place. I'd like to be able to stop worrying about whether or not I'll, literally, "make it" through the next school year.



But. . . most of all. . . I'd like to see everyone put aside their egos and "personal freedom" BS and just wear the damn mask!! It's one thing we can all do and it takes almost zero effort.

"CRAZY" Goalie Moms: Fact or Fiction?

**There's a rumor going around that hockey parents are nuts. The rider on said rumor is that goalie parents--specifically the moms--are even MORE nuts. I'm here to set the record straight. . . sort of. (If I'm being honest, I can only speak for myself. I'm not responsible for any other bat-shit-crazy goalie moms out there)

A little background: When my son started playing in net, he did so because he was mildly interested in the position and no one else was. That was his first year of Mite hockey. The coaches had kids rotate into the position that year. By the time he was a squirt, Henry was in net full time. So, he's been playing this position--almost exclusively--for seven years. In that time, I've heard countless times that goalies and goalie parents are nuts. I just don't think that's true.



The "TRUTH" as I see it: Basically, once you start in net, you might find yourself there for-ev-er! Most skaters want to keep skating out and they figure out right away that being in net is not for them. That's fine. Henry loves playing this position but. . . because there was often no one else who could/would do it, he had to be a "model citizen" for his team. Show up, ignore any illness you feel you might be developing if it's a game day, double practices for more time catching pucks, never give up, and keep on keepin' on. Henry is not the best goaltender on the planet but he's tough and he works hard. He can weather almost anything without too much trouble. I admire that about him. I don't think that makes him crazy or weird--he's just responsible.



Despite being proud of my goaltender--win or lose--because I know he's doing a job not too many kids want to take on, watching your kid in net is sort of awful. Yeah, yeah, it's a team effort. . . this is true and we all know it. However when you are watching (at the HS level more so than others) some skater hurtling toward your goalie--one of the people you would, literally, kill for to protect--at mach 12 on a breakaway, and the parent behind you says, "oh no!" it doesn't feel like "team" anymore. It's just scary.  Tangentially, I've also learned that I have a lot more self control than I thought I did.  In reference to the "oh no" types and self control: I've learned over the years that I can put up with a lot more shit for the sake of not embarrassing my goalie than I ever would have imagined. If you've ever wondered why goalie parents often sit away from everyone else, it's because they are exercising self control. Trust me on this one.  It's a lot easier to sit in the "goalie parent cone of silence" than to try to ignore the commentary some folks feel entitled to spew about like parade candy. I have lost my temper exactly one time in the 8 years that Henry has been playing hockey and. . . at the time. . . I was sitting around a bunch of other spectators. Probably my own fault for wanting to sit with my buddies (who are all super and supportive) but, in my defense, how was I to know the armchair goalie coach was going to pitch up right behind us.?

Pro tip to all sports parents: If you want to talk sauce about a kid on the ice, court, field, pitch. . . . make sure that child shares your DNA. If not. . . maybe STFU. Let their coaches do the coaching. They know a hell of a lot more about it than the rest of us.  

Maybe that's where the "crazy goalie parent/mom" business has it's roots. . . too many times a parent has had it up to their eyeballs with the commentary of others. I mean, we are only human and we're desperately hoping one of the people we love most in the world comes off the ice feeling satisfied and not disappointed.  I don't know. . . if a sports parent has a short fuse in the rest of their lives, maybe they are more inclined to throw down (hopefully only verbally) in the stands. I'm really not that person so I'm guessing.










Another thing I've learned over the past 8 years is that people like to tell you All. The. Time. that, "goalies are weird" as they are pulling some sort of knowing face.  I'm here to tell you right now, they aren't any weirder than any other hockey player. Just because they will put themselves in front of a rock-hard puck on purpose does not make them strange (as many a meme would have you believe). I've seen skaters (mostly D-men. . . a goaltender's best friend) do the exact same thing with a lot less padding. . . so. . . skaters are, arguably, much weirder than goalies.  ;-) There's a lot of talk about traditions and superstitions that goalies and goalie parents have which, ostensibly, lends credence to how strange we supposedly are. Maybe that is why we are perceived as crazy?  Personally, I have only one "superstition:"

We do not talk about the shut out (if it looks like that might happen) during the game. . . ever. 

That's it. I've got nothing else. I don't do any of the other silly things you see all over the internet. Who has time for that? I'm too busy stressing out to keep track of a bunch of other things. I asked Henry about this and he says he doesn't have any kind of routine or superstitions. I'll have to take his word for it but his coaches might know something I don't. Bottom line. . . we're really not that strange.



Finally. . . (and this is where I go all "braggadocio hockey mom" on y'all) Grace. Under. Pressure. Goalies MUST have this, in my opinion. Henry has it in spades. I'll tell you all right now--if you don't know hockey--it's fast, it can be rough, and the last line of defense is the goaltender. If you are a head case, it's a problem. Henry and I have talked about this a lot. In fact, it's really the only "advice" I've ever really given him about his playing. Never let the other guys know you are frustrated. Do your job to the best of your ability and never, ever give up. Your team needs you to be solid, calm, and working hard. I've watched some games over the years that were absolutely painful. To his credit, no matter how awfully things are going, Henry is outwardly calm and composed. I joke about his "goalie hunch." When he needs to re-set after a goal, he skates out of the crease, hunches down over his pads and waits for play to resume. We've talked about what's going on in his head before but--as far as anyone else can see--he's ready to keep going. I think this is the thing I love the most about watching him play. Yeah, it's super when everything is going well and his team is winning. . . . but seeing him just steady in net and working when it's a complete dumpster fire?  THAT is what makes me the most proud of him. And it is that part of him as a player that I think will take him far in life. When things completely suck, he just keeps working. . . a life skill if ever there was one.



So there you have it, goalies (and their parents) are pretty normal. . . with these exception. . . which ARE true:



1. Yes. . . we buy our vehicles based on whether or not the goalie gear will fit into the back. Imagine my angst over this as I prefer a small car.



2. Yes. . . our player's position is more expensive in terms of gear. We spend more money for them to do what they love so some of us might get a little intense about it.



3. Yes. . .even if we are outwardly calm (that's my MO 99% of the time and Henry's too) chances are pretty good that we are screaming on the inside.



4. Yes. . . if you are a sauce talker, we hate you. We're basically thinking, "Put on the pads yourself or shut your screaming howler."





Like I said, perfectly normal.

Llama Llama. . . No, not that one.

People talk about things being "life changing" all the time. I have found--for the most part--that declaring things such as grocery delivery, phone pockets in leggings, face cream, protein powder, and all various and sundry as "life changing" is both trite and terribly uncreative. As a direct result of this, personal bias I'm not really sure how I would describe one of the most incredible experiences of my adult life: hearing the Dalai Lama speak in 2013.

Having been raised in a spiritually ambivalent house, I have always been, unaccountably, fascinated with other folks' faith systems. I won't go into the looooooooong and evolving process that is my own set of beliefs (that's another post for another time--perhaps) but I am truly interested in how people process their faith--regardless what faith they ascribe to. Having said that, until early in 2013, I never really felt drawn to any sort of event/person/system in any especial way. When I learned that HH The Dalai Lama was going to visit Madison, WI though, I just knew I had to go. I had this feeling that this diminutive fellow was someone I absolutely must see--it felt important to do so. I attribute this to having recently finished the book, The Open Road by Pico Iyer. So. . . I did something I almost never do. . . I used a personal day at work so I could go see His Holiness The 14th Dalai Lama--a man who is the the spiritual leader of the Tibetan people, the "face" of Tibetan Buddhism, and about whom I knew very little. 

Warning: If you are predicting a story of my conversion to Buddhism to follow--maybe stop now. You might be disappointed. 

The Dalai Lama spoke for about an hour on this occasion. Sometimes directly to the audience and sometimes through an interpreter. He spoke on many topics--mostly grounded in the principles of applying compassion and kindness to every aspect of one's life. Despite the sheer breadth of his talking points, there were a few things that--even seven years later--I recall clearly. These are the pieces of the day that, I assume, have been the most meaningful to me if for no other reason than they are the items that lingered in my brain and that whisper back at me periodically.  

The first of these was a 10-15 minute segment of his talk where HH spoke very stridently about NOT converting people to any faith system. He talked about faith being so intensely personal that a person's will to participate in such--regardless of it's manifestation--should be held as sacred. This, with the caveat that the faith of said individuals was a positive force in the world and did no harm. Looking back, I am sure that this particular part of the message is what "won me over" so to speak. It's not that I was skeptical--at least not on a conscious level--but in the back of my mind there must have been some part of me waiting for him to profess Buddhism as the only true path to. . . . well whatever it is we are all searching for. 

Another aspect of the Dalai Lama's message that has clung to me was how often he brought his talking points back to the idea of personal responsibility for making the world a better place. He spoke, at length, about how the horrors of the world could easily plunge a person into despair, and how we need to approach our fellow humans with open, loving, and compassionate hearts. He asserted that only then can the world heal. While I do not, personally believe that the entirety of the human race holds this capacity--thus ensuring the continuation of poverty, war, greed, and a whole host of other, truly awful conditions of the human spirit--I DO believe that the endeavoring to be this more perfect human is worth the effort. . . even if one is, ultimately, all too human and unsuccessful in their attempts. 

The final--and most vividly etched in my mind--aspect of the event is the sound of the Dalai Lama's laughter. I am not over stating my feelings on this when I say that it touched my soul. I'm fairly certain that HH's peals of merriment could erase any troubled thought I might possibly manufacture. It was, in my mind, the kind of laughter that one can only make when they have found a sincere place of quietude and peace within their time here. I was struck that this man who had been dispossessed of his home, and in exile most of his adult life, could harbor so much joy in a world that is too often cold and cruel. 

On the way home from the event, I remember pulling off to the side of the road to process all the parts of the Dalai Lama's talk. At the time, I wasn't really paying attention to my driving and thought it would be fairly pointless to die in a fiery wreck without having had the chance to regale my husband with the amazing experience I'd just had. I remember there being so much to think about. Most of it, I have forgotten since then--with the three things above still being firmly implanted in my memories of the day. At this point, one might assume that I read everything there was to read about the Dalai Lama or about Buddhism. I did not. Oh, I have read a few books--most notably The Art of Happiness which many folks have read--but I didn't want to "ruin" the day by getting all research-y about it. Being completely content with my experience, I went about my life.

Except. . . I didn't. . . exactly. The parts of the talk about compassion and being a force for a better world have come back to me on a regular basis. The idea that all faith (and even an absence thereof) is sacred if practiced with a loving and compassionate heart changed the way I view how others express and act upon their desire to be better humans. And. . . that laugh. . . I'm pretty sure that will be with me until the day I die--such a happy sound. 

So, for me, seeing His Holiness The 14th Dalai Lama speak truly was life-changing. Not in the way that being a wife or mother has been life changing--and those things are gloriously important to me--but, rather, in how I view myself and my place within the entirety of humankind. It made me feel simultaneously much more and much less important than the sum of my parts. 

Perspective

These are my memories. We all know that memory can be a tricky construct. That is my only disclaimer.



A recent tweet about "Great Sports Movies" got me thinking about what it was like growing up on the tail-end of the cold war. To my way of thinking, anyone with a complete soul has to count "Miracle" as the best sports movie ever made.  I think this opinion is born--not from any actual knowledge of film making but, rather--from living during that time. At least that is the case for me.



When I was young, I spent a lot of time--outside of a stint in foster care--with my grandma and my great grandparents (my Oma and Opa). I watched a lot of news because they watched a lot of news. In fact, it was almost the only time the TV was on in the house. As such, I grew up fearing a few things--most notably the USSR. I recall having a deep fear that "they" would randomly send a nuclear strike against the US and we'd all be vaporized in our beds. (In the interest of full disclosure, I was also terribly frightened of being abducted by pirates so. . . a grain of salt might be necessary) I had this vague sense that there was a whole country of people who hated me because I was an American and had all these "freedoms" they would never have. I wondered about what it would be like to starve because grocery store selves were--as the nightly news helpfully displayed--empty. I thought about how annoying it would be to have to worry that my government was tapping my phones. I was amazed and pleased when people actually completed a successful defection from such onerous lives.



And then the world began to change. In 1980, a group of college kids beat the "unbeatable" Soviet hockey team. For me, that was the beginning of the dissolution of fear. In 1982 Samantha Smith wrote to General Secretary Yuri Andropov and an American school girl visited the Soviet Union. I remember thinking she was very brave and worrying that "they" would not let her leave--which, looking back, was fairly silly. Then, in 1985, Mikhail Gorbachev became the Soviet President and the news hour was filled with talking points on Perestroika and Glasnost. By this point, most of my deeply held fears about nuclear annihilation were long forgotten. Finally--in November of 1989--as I watched the Berlin Wall crumble under the hammers of the Berliners (deeply saddened that my Opa did not live to see his country symbolically reunited), I felt that maybe--just maybe--democracy was going to "win the day" in world politics. I was a senior in high school at the time and I had a fairly one-dimensional view of world politics despite my rabid news consumption.



As the years have passed, and I've become a more knowledgeable consumer of news and information, I've come to the realization that most of my childhood fears were completely unfounded. But I have often thought about how my thoughts and fears in that time were molded by the news I was consuming on the daily.



But here's the thing: without the constant barrage of "the Soviets are bad" and "Democracy must win" messaging of the day, would the 1980 "Miracle on Ice" have even been a thing? Would it have merely been a blip on the map of sports history? Would a movie have even been a viable option? I'm thinking not but I don't really know.



Some people argue that we--from a nationalistic standpoint--need a clear "enemy" in order to solidify our collective will and to foster patriotism. These same people might point to how large and diverse we are as a nation as a rationale for needing said enemy. When I look back on the events of my life, I can see that these things seem to be true. I'm not saying they are good, moral, honorable, or humanistic. They just seem to be true. I wonder. . . . in another 40 years. . . if we'll be in the same place we've been since WWII? I feel like we are stuck as a nation. . . and. . . I think it's a damned shame.

I've Been a BAAAAAAAAAD Blogger. . . and I'm not even sorry.

I got to thinking that maybe I should channel some of my angst into a blog or something of the like. 



So I did these things:

1. Went online to look at blog hosting things

2. Did a comparison of ^^^^these things

3. Then. . . . and only after clicking on Blogger because it was FREE. . . discovered I had an abandoned blog from 2018!!



I feel a little >>>>>

A lot has changed since 2018.  The family and I have moved from one city to another.  I've moved from my old job into a new school building in a new district.  I am now the "lucky" parent of two teenagers and one crazy boy.  They are still Godless Heathens though---just bigger ones.

Politics. . . .UGH! (Originally drafted in 2018--Not much has changed)

Yup, I'm going there and I'm not even sorry.



This post is pure opinion.  If you want some "facts," go look them up.  It's easy.  I just don't wanna.



As we near election day here in the good ole U S of A, I can't help but think that WE, THE PEOPLE, have been led down the primrose path of greed, corporate debauchery, and stone-cold bullshit by our so-called leaders.



Yeah. . . not a very cheery prospect.  I'm grumpy.



The thing is, I don't really believe our "leaders" give one, single fig about us as a whole.  If they did, wouldn't there be a greater emphasis on things in this country like infrastructure, education, and uplifting our citizens as a people?  I would certainly think so.



Instead, we get. . . . .



*Two stagnant political parties that are so grossly polarized the idea of "bipartisan compromise" is laughable.



*A system in which we "have no money" to take care of children, the elderly, and the mentally ill but have scads of cash to increase our involvement in military actions that have never proven successful throughout the course of history. (cough-Afghanistan-cough)



*Leaders who spend more time baiting and taunting each other rather than addressing the needs of the majority of Americans.



*A system in which flag-waving patriots vote--time and time again--to decrease VA funding.  (Psssst: Those soldiers you are supposedly such big fans of deserve health care in exchange for their service and crappy pay)



*A society where the polarization of Washington politics has leached down into local politics--thereby getting a lot of nothing positive done at any level.

One! More! Time!

I don't know if I think this blogging business will be therapeutic or not but as I was driving to and from Madison yesterday I did have time to ruminate on what I DO find highly therapeutic. . . .





SINGING AT THE TOP OF MY LUNGS IN THE CAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



Therefore, in no particular order, I present a list of the songs I most like to belt out whilst driving hither and yon:



* Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy by Queen



* Wagon Wheel by Old Crow Medicine Show



* Promises by Royal Wood



* Rehab by Amy Winehouse



* Zombie by The Cranberries



*Skullcrusher Mountain by Jonathan Coulton



* Life on Mars by David Bowie



* At Last by Etta James



* Mr. Blue Sky by ELO



* Fidelity by Regina Spektor



I'm sure there are about a zillion more but these are the first that came to mind.  Now, I'm not saying I do a "good" job of singing these tunes. . . . but when one is in one's car, I hardly think that matters. 



My kids however. . . well. . . they've learned there's no point in complaining about it.

The End of an Era

A few days back, the University of Wisconsin-Madison announced that their long-time marching band director, Mike Leckrone, would be retiring at the end of this year.  His 50th year at the UW.



It is absolutely "The End of an Era."



I had the honor and pleasure of marching for Mike from 1991-1995. I was also a member of the office staff for the last three years of my time with the band. I don't know if I can even fully express all the valuable lessons I learned while in the UW Band.



But. . . . I'm going to try.

Lesson #1: Don't give up. Failure is not an end.  The first year I tried out for the Band, in 1990, I was cut.  I didn't make it and I was crushed.  The tryouts, known as "Reg. Week," are not for the feint of heart.  In fact, if memory serves, they are brutal.  After being cut, I went to see Mike to ask him what I needed to do to make the Band the following year. He suggested I do these things: Go down to the instrument shop and get a loaner trumpet, sign up for the University Band (a non-audition band like what one does in high school), LEARN HOW TO PLAY THE TRUMPET WHILE IN SAID BAND, and try again the following year.



I went back to my dorm and considered my options. . . . then I did exactly what he suggested. I didn't know how to play the trumpet but I knew people who did and so. . . I signed up, learned how to play and tried out again the next year.



Lesson #2: If you don't like it, do something about it.  The second year I tried out, I DID make the Band. . . . as an un-uniformed alternate (a "Sweater" alternate).  When the list came out, my name and a couple others were listed as a "go talk to Mike" at the end of the final cut.  So. . . back I went and this time Mike told me that he valued my hard work but didn't think I was ready yet to march in the block. I *might* have started to cry.  And. . . I remember this clearly. . . he leaned back in his chair, looked me dead in the eye and said, "I'm giving you a chance to show me you belong here."



I worked my ass off that year.  I never got a marching spot--despite learning the entirety of most of the half-time shows.  At this point, I had dug in my heels.  By God, I WAS going to prove it and no one was going to stop me. I may have only been on the field during rehearsals but there was no way I was going to quit now.



Lesson #3: If it was easy, anyone could do it.  After my 3rd Reg Week, I finally earned a 1/2 spot on the block.  I was marching pregame shows. I was thrilled but it wasn't good enough.  I wanted a full-spot. Both pregame and half time shows. It wasn't easy to watch my friends "saddle up" for the half time show but it was a whole hell of a lot easier than watching the game from the student section. At this point, I had come to realize that what seemed pretty easy for about 200 other people was just going to take more from me.



Lesson #4: The harder you work, the sweeter the victory. I finally earned a full spot on the block during my 3rd year in the UW Marching Band. While I don't, empirically, know if this is true, I believe that I relished my time on the field more than a lot of band kids. . . . it was a long, hard road and I valued each time I put on my uniform, taped on my spats, and lined up for run ons and half time shows. I was also filled with a sense of pride because I'd had to work so hard.





Other, smaller lessons I learned from my association with Mike both as a band member and a band staff member:



*A broken copy machine is NO excuse (very helpful in my current job).



*Sometimes you don't mean to hurt something (like the band) but you do. Then you need to fix it.



*Quadruple check all your photocopies.  Hell hath no fury like 200+ band kids with bad charts.



*Own up to your screw-ups and endeavor to NOT repeat them. . . EVER.



*Perfection is a perfectly reasonable goal.



*Hard work does pay off.



*Even when you do a good job, sometimes you have to, "do it again."



*Frost bite is no excuse for crappy playing or crappy marching.



*Be tougher than the person next to you--or try to be.



*When you expect a lot from yourself and those around you, amazing things can be achieved.



*Big Band music is a thing of wonder.



*Bix Beiderbecke is an unsung hero.



*"EAT A ROCK" (Which--as far as I was ever able to understand--means you take something difficult and crush it with your will and determination while being stridently amazing in the process.)





So. . . today. . . when asked to reflect on an educator that impacted me and had a lasting effect on my life, I instantly thought of Mike Leckrone.  I am, sincerely, a better person for having been a part of the UW Marching Band.