Here in (America? the West? the world?) we make everything into a commodity. Time, space, air, light - all quantified for consumption and often sold to the highest bidder.
Two nights ago it rained in Phoenix. It's rare to get a rainfall here outside of the monsoon season. Micah opened the door right as we were about to leave.

I told him, "We need to go."

He told me, "No, we need to listen to the rain."

I'm not one of those let-your-child-dictate-your-life parents, but I listened to him and I listened to the rain. We didn't need to be anywhere except there in that moment. 

My first thought was, "we need to save time" and then it struck me that time will go on whether I "save" it or "spend" it.

(An aside: Check out my more satirical musings on Blog in the Suburbs - seriously, it's pretty unknown right now and I'd love some feedback on the posts)

Sometimes I get into these passionate places where I want people to grab a hammer.  This morning, I felt this way when I drove past five spaces in the mural across from Trevor Brown High School, where they decided to censor it with a dull brown.  I felt this way this morning when I heard about the Wicked Witch of Washington gutting the staff of DC.  I get this way when I think of our beloved sheriff who cares about legality only when it suits him.

If I'm not careful, I grow too cynical.  Brad the Philosopher once warned me that every revolutionary is guilty of that which he revolts against.  Sometimes I forget that.  Sometimes I forget the complexity of issues.  I miss the mystery. I get into this place where I assume the worst motives. 

A hammer and a chisel can also be used to create.  It's what sculptors use to create the negative space that will become the positive space.  Keeping this sculptor mentality in mind is what helps me from growing too angry, yelling too loudly or speaking too boldly.

I want students to engage in social justice.  I want them to stand up courageously and tear down walls of injustice.  I want them to grab a hammer. Yet, I also want them to set the hammer down, think and ponder and go back as a sculptor.

photo credit

It's no secret that I'm a fan of Ubuntu.  For die-hard Linux fans, Ubuntu seems to be Linux-light.  Mac enthusiasts will talk my ear off about how much they like the iCandy.  The problem is that my computer is a $300 PC and I need something to work for me.

My biggest reasons for choosing a Linux distribution have been:

1. Stability: It's more secure / stable. I've never had Linux crash on me, while that has happened frequently with Microsoft in the past. 
2. Security: Fewer viruses 
3. Organization: Vista makes things "so simple" that it gets too complicated
4. Durability: If I run Linux on a computer and it becomes outdated, I simply get a different distribution of it rather than buying a new computer
5. Free: It's open source, which means it is updated frequently, available to all and I don't have to worry about paying a corporation
6. Support: True, I don't get a man on the phone from Dubai to trouble-shoot.  However, I can go to a forum and figure out what to do based upon the advice of a large team of experts. 
7. Speed: Linux runs quickly.  
   

I will admit that Linux is quirky (much like me).  Sometimes the system requires someone to do a little research and problem solve. But it works well.  The following are some claims I've heard about Linux and the reality that I experienced:

Claim: Linux is too difficult to install

My Experience: It's as simple as downloading and burning to a disk.  After that, I simply go through the menus. It's not quite as easy as simply turning on a computer and having it work the first time. With Ubuntu, I can test it out first and then go through a quick six-step process that allows me to keep Vista on a disk partition. 

Claim: Linux doesn't have many programs

My Experience: It comes with more programs than Vista (or at least more useful programs).  There is an iTunes alternative, a media player, a web browser, an office suite (Open Office) and photo editing software.  I still had to download a movie making program that I preferred (Open Shot) and a few others (concept mapping program, a website editor).  However, many of those were open source programs I would have downloaded in Windows as well.

Claim: Linux takes a long time to customize

My Experience: It's actually faster . . . just not as user friendly initially.  For example, I had to look up some command prompts to get new fonts.  However, the reality is that using the Terminal is actually faster than a traditional download-and-run method of Windows.

Claim: There are a ton of bugs

My Experience: I've used Linux with students and on my home computer.  The truth is that there are more software glitches with Vista (from my experience), perhaps because they are guarding proprietary code.

Claim: Hardware won't work
My Experience: My printer, scanner, USB drive, speakers and headphones all worked without requiring special codes or downloads.

Claim: It's ugly
My Experience: I can customize just about everything, including something as trivial as the theme.  For what it's worth, the effects, gadgets and themes are more visually appealing than what I have with Microsoft.

Happy Thanksgiving

I love being a teacher.  The following are things I am thankful for:

• I am infinitely cooler than everyone else in the room because I can drive, shave and live on my own.  
• I get the summers off -- yes, I know that I work often and that I have professional development and all of that.  However, I get to have a ton of time with my family. 
  
• I work a job that is meaningful, challenging and often enjoyable
• I laugh more often than most people who work "office jobs"
• I have a job that fits my identity 
• A fresh perspective on life.  My students constantly force me to think and re-evaluate what I believe about life.
  
• I learn safety tips through cartoons.  
  
• Even though I rarely watch t.v. or listen to the radio, I have instant access to pop culture
• I have trained my bladder to wait for hours.  This is a serious asset at concerts and sporting events.
• I'm not all that intimidated when I have to speak in front of a large group.
  
• Some of my best friends are people I met at work, especially Javi the Hippie
  
• The customer is not always right.  In fact, if the customer screws up, I have the option of kicking him out (though I rarely do this).  Way different from the grocery store
  
• I have gotten to dress up as a superhero, a sarcastic nerd, a robot alien and Grammar Guy (who combines the best attributes of superhero, sarcastic nerd and robot alien) and I have done sock puppets
  
• If ever I am in a public place when a fire occurs, I will know exactly how to lead people to the exit.  They might not listen, but I'll still have the skill set.
  
• Every few weeks, I get updates from students who thank me for making a difference.  It's almost always on one of those discouraging days when I'm thinking, "Why am I doing this?  Am I being effective?" 
  
• I get to speak in funny accents on a daily basis
• I'm teaching a class that does not require faith in a broken copy machine. 
  
• I am in a field where there is still a decent amount of creative control and autonomy.  I get to create the climate, the instruction, the overall reality of the classroom experience.  It's like I'm a benign dictator who occasionally opens the mini-nation to democracy. 
  
• I have never had a day when I look at the clock and say, "How much longer?" 
• Although I leave tired each day, it's the good kind of tired.  I feel content. 
  

photo credit - from flickr creative commons

For what it's worth, we shouldn't be rebuilding other nations when we are struggling to keep ours intact. This isn't isolationism, it's just the reality we face.

For what it's worth, changing the name from No Child Left Behind to Race to the Top is like telling a stripper that she's an exotic dancer.  I'm not that easily fooled.

For what it's worth, no Wall Street executive should be able to collect a retirement while teachers lose pensions that they paid into for thirty years.

For what it's worth, I long for the days when Data was an innocuous, logical android whose fair-skinned musings made me smile instead of a commodity to twist in order to defend standardized education.

For what it's worth, I believe every board member, legislator and bureaucrat should have to pass a 12th grade standardized test each year in order to keep their job.  I have a hunch many would fail.

For what it's worth, I can get really ramped up about issues like war and education policy and teacher rights and forget about the amazing taste of coffee and the excitement in watching a kid learn something new or the sheer joy of playing in the dirt with my sons or holding a newborn or going on a date with my wife.

a note on the cartoon - it's a little hard to read, because my print is so sloppy 
one of the hardest things about being a teacher is that my penmanship is so bad
if you see letters on it, the reason is that I sketched it on the back of another sheet of paper

No spray paint.  No folk songs.  No strikes or marches or iconoclastic test booklet burning.  Just wearing black in solidarity with all the rest of us who lament the death of teacher autonomy, authentic learning and funding of public education. We have a cause.  What we lack is a voice.

Here are my 2009 Edublog Award Nominations

Best individual blog
This Brazen Teacher

Best individual tweeter
Joel Z

Best new blog
Look At My Happy Rainbow

Best resource sharing blog
Cornerstone for Teachers

Best teacher blog
Science Teacher

Best educational tech support blog
ClifMims

Best class blog
borman blogging

Most influential blog post
Biomimicry

"Dragons became extinct when people stopped living in castles."

"Well, actually Joel, dragons are just make believe."

"Maybe people saw pterodactyls and thought they were dragons."

***

"A diamond is just a square that can't stand up straight."

***

"Joel, please don't be bossy with Micah."

"I'm not trying to be bossy. I just like helping people and sometimes that means telling people what to do."

***

"When Jesus was a baby, did he nurse?"

the writing on the wall

In teaching about the functions of government, a boy raises his hand and asks me about the political parties.  "I just want to make sure I have this straight.  Republicans are the ones who believe that climate change is make believe and Democrats are the ones who think life doesn't begin until after a child is born."

Yeah, kind of. I laugh at first, until I realize that he's not trying to be sarcastic. I'd like to explain the nuances of the parties, the confusing gray area of the issues and the fact that "conservative" and "liberal" have little meaning in America.  One of the best parts of teaching middle school  is that kids haven't figured out what they believe.  Nor do they have a complete understanding of the issues and unlike adults, they rarely seem to pretend to understand it all.  It's exciting, but it's also a little discouraging.

There are hundreds of social studies standards.  In reading the standards, it's all about events and famous people.  Occasionally, they get really lofty and present high-minded concepts that take days to grasp.  We get a year.  It's an "overview."  Yet, in two years, they'll get more "overview" and then a brief "overview" Senior Year. Then, they'll vote.  Or more likely they won't.

Right now, the state legislature continues to pass anti-teacher laws and very few people know about it.  The newspaper ran an article with a smiling politician crouching at the desk of a low-income student.  The article failed to mention the reality that this politician made it possible to fire teachers for no just cause, to single out individual teachers for salary re-adjustments, all the while revoking the rules about when contracts are due.

Few people know about these laws. Few people know about the details of the Race to the Top (also known as NLCB 2.0).  Few people know that charter schools routinely score lower on standardized tests than public schools.  Still, fewer know that standardized tests are almost meaningless and measure one's household income better than academic achievement.

For the record, I have never used the Quadratic Equation in life.  I have never been asked to parse sentences and look for dangling participles.  I have never needed to use binomial nomenclature.  I have never arrived in a state and instantly needed to know the capital. I have, however, needed to vote.  And, while we continue to cut the time and attention given to civics and government, I want to thank Mrs. Smoot and Mr. Allen and Mrs. Bedene and Mrs. Waller for the fact that I can stay reasonably informed on the laws that affect my life.

When I was in the hospital, a nurse asked about our Vice President.  No one could tell her the answer is Joe Biden.  When I answered, she said, "I'm just not into politics."  Not "into it" is a phrase I might reserve for knitting or Fantasy Football or Dancing with the Stars, but apparently it applies to democracy as well.

photo credit - http://www.flickr.com/photos/patrick_dockens/3499059094/

I stumbled across quoteflections after the author left a few comments on this blog.  I quickly felt a conflicting sense of intrigue in what he wrote and remorse in the fact that I hadn't discovered the blog sooner.  The tagline for quoteflections is "a regular eclectic mindfix" which sums it up well.

At times, Paul Cornies engages in personal story-telling or shares a philosophical thought through metaphor.  Other times, he finds random, interesting information online and presents the information in a witty, interesting, well-presented format.  Bottom line: he's a thinker without getting condescending, a bit of a poet without making it inaccessible and a geek in all the best ways possible.

Some blogs are filled with buzz and glitter and a loud "please adore me" tone.  This blog is a meandering walk through the wilderness, quietly saying, "I've got some ideas if you want to listen.  Or talk. Or post a comment."  It's humble.  And though I don't know Paul C, he is one of my favorite "blog commenters" because his comments are typically insightful and respectful.

My friend Dan used to do this - bullet point updates.  So here are some random thoughts:

• When I asked Joel what he wanted for breakfast, he said, "Candy, candy canes, candy corn and syrup." 
• I have a student named Brandy in first hour and Mandy in second hour.  Guess what seventies songs are stuck in my head all afternoon.  
• I have a reputation as being a "funny teacher," which feels really odd. (It's better than my first year, when I was an angry teacher). Growing up, people always told me I was so serious and so I internalized the idea that I have a really lame sense of humor. 
• I have an amazing wife.  Last night when Micah couldn't fall asleep she sang hymns and it was beautiful.
• I love teaching.  Sometimes when I'm gone from the gig for awhile, I forget that.  But coming back to it this week, I felt that sense that I'm doing something that I love, able to be who I am and perhaps even making a difference.  

Bonus: a link to Miracle Whip's response to Colbert

Newsflash: YouTube can be used for education.  So can Blogger and GoogleDocs and e-mail.  Blocking a site for classroom management reasons is essentially like taking away pencils because kids snap them in half and throw them or banning paper, because kids pass notes.

(Incidentally, my district is actually pretty good in this category.  But we run into huge problems when I have students try and collaborate with kids across the country or across town)

I don't dance. I'm not comfortable with anything publicly expressive that goes below the neckline. I get the power of dance on a very cerebral level. I can talk about dance from an anthropological perspective. I've seen some ballets and interpretive dance (which on some level, I'll never get).

So, a kid hands me a poem and asks if he can turn it into a multimedia poem. It turned out blurry on YouTube, but it looks great on iMovie (yes, I do partake of the iCandy once in awhile). It's a bit too "poppy" for real dance snobs, but it was his voice and I thought I'd post it with the question:

What if dance is more powerful than schools give it credit for?

We gather around the firewood in the midst of an urban enclave, pretending subconciously that we are cave dwellers or mountain people or anything other than inhabitants of cookie-cutter housing.   It's an awkward assembly of couples.  We range in age, from mid-twenties to fifties.  We range in income from a meager teacher salary to the guy who writes and licenses succesful tunes.  It's eclectic and diverse, but we're united in our faith and in our desire to live it out authentically.

On certain nights, we laugh and play and on other evenings it can feel almost like a painfully deep twelve-step program without the steps or the program. We're drawn to each other.  Call it a herding instinct.  We're drawn to the fire like bugs and light bulb.  At times we irritate each other.  At times we embrace one another.

The process is slow and organic.  It's a lot of fire and food and hanging out at the park.  It's a few beers and some casserole. It's a lot of story-telling and re-story-telling until we get closer to transparent so people can see that we're opaque. I still can't call them "family," but "close relatives" might be a decent term.

I go back to school today and I'm excited.  Yet, as much as I enjoy this new place, it still doesn't feel like family.  It still doesn't feel like "distant relatives" for that matter.  One would think that, given our united belief about the power of education and our shared values about caring for students, community would occur.

But it doesn't.  Perhaps it will someday. But I'm skeptical.  We don't share our lives when we're in the staff lounge.  We're scared, all of us, at least a little.  We're professional.  Those things make it hard to be transparent, much less vulnerable.  Most of us view work as a place to "go to" rather than a community where we can be ourselves. We have no times of meeting at the park or sharing a pint or sitting around a camp fire.   Our conversations exist beneath flickering flourescent lights.

For all of our talk about being a professional learning community, we are not yet a community - and I am doubtful that mission statements or code of ethics (however effective they may be) can be the building blocks of creating community.

Yet, despite this reality, a vague sense of family grows. I felt sad this morning, anticipating a certain letdown and disconnection between my life and my job.  Instead, students waved and asked about our baby.  Staff members engaged in small talk.  We laugh.  We talk.  So,  there is a subtle sense that we are distant relatives and that, over time, we might become family. 
 

photo credit - flickr creative commons - cuttlefish's photostream

I sent this out on Twitter and got a few responses. I am currently working on a blog that I would love to have as a "group blog."  Right now the name is Just Teaching, but I am open to other ideas.  The concept is teachers who teach with social justice in mind.  I think social justice gets a really bad rap - as if those of us who keep a critical perspective somehow have lower standards when, in fact, we have high standards.

I also thought of other concepts for the blog - for example a "sustainable education."  I don't know.  We can play around with what the blog would look like.

I posted the first article to the blog if you want to check it out. Please leave a comment or e-mail me at socialvoice@gmail.com if you are interested.

Incidentally, the style matches this blog, but I would like to get feedback from blog contributors as far as what the blog could look like.

Why do we have places where any resident can access print information for free and even sit down and browse the internet and check-out CDs, yet we still charge people if they want to see art?

photo credit - flickr creative commons - http://www.flickr.com/photos/seeminglee/3982036617/in/photostream/

I once made a "movie" with my students about a superhero who tries to save the world and ends up realizing that it's about loving people, not saving the world; that the biggest mask was his alter-ego; that working alone leads to burn-out.  I didn't realize until that summer it was a story about me.

I turned the skeleton plot into a short (very short) video.

Teacher's aren't supposed to have favorites.  Bloggers shouldn't do that, either.  It's why I have never been into the whole blogging awards deal.  To me, the benefit of a blog is the democratic sharing of information.  It's the notion of public space, of open airwaves.

I still have a favorite, though.  It's Doyle, the Science Teacher.  His post tonight reminds me why I get so annoyed with Christians and yet it forces me to examine as well why I am part of the hypocrites that annoy him.  I attempt to explain the unexplainable.  I believe some crazy things, like the death and resurrection of Christ and the concept of grace and an afterlife and I have a hunch that if I wrote a spiritual book it very well might make him angry.

I also believe that if we lived in the same town, we'd have a pint.  I'd order a hefe and he'd probably go Guinness. I'll forgive him for being wrong on his choice of beer, but I doubt he'd get over the fact that I don't like clams.

I guess those differences are a part of why I enjoy his blog so much.  It's why I am a small-d democrat and a small-r republican.  I believe in front porches and yards without fences and a commons where people live out that paradox of unity and diversity. It's why we need smart, respectful dialogue and there's probably not a blogger around who does both as well as him. 

Doyle's blog is smart (the guy is more intelligent than me), often witty, typically meandering but he blindsides the reader with a post that gets to the point.  It's conversational without being trite.  It's deep without being arrogant.  It's humble without over-the-top self-deprecation.  It's relevant because he doesn't try too hard to be relevant.

Doyle writes some insightful criticism on the current educational system and his Luddite rants are always a joy. Still, his best posts are on life and the mystery that surrounds us. Though we depart on the topic of religion, we share a common ground with Tolstoy.  We both find grace in gardening.  We just interpret it a little differently.

The State Department has announced that teacher contracts will not be due by May 15th any longer.  In addition, districts no longer need to consider seniority, but will focus on "achievement" (read test scores).

I respect Tom Horne.  After all, the guy was a classroom teacher before . . . Oh wait, he wasn't a classroom teacher.  He's never taught.

Okay, but I respect the guy.  He was a principal and understands . . . Oh, it turns out he wasn't an administrator at all.

No, but I still respect the guy.  He was a school board member who led a low-SES, largely minority student population.  Oops, got that wrong as well.  It turns out he was superintendent of the wealthiest, highest achieving district in the state.  He has no experience with minorities, ELL students or students in poverty.

Well, perhaps he has executive experience? Nope.  Maybe  he worked a blue-collar job and understands the difficulty of living in a down economy? Wrong again.  Tom Horne was a wealthy lawyer who became passionate about "fixing" Arizona's educational system and eventually marketed his way into the state legislature.  At least he attended a public university?  No, he's a Harvard graduate who was born into privilege.

At least Arizona hasn't dropped in our educational rankings?  Wrong again.  If we're judging by the standards he uses to judge teachers, we've moved from 48th in the nation to 50th. So, while he has certainly earned the years in tenure, lets hope the voters base their decision next time on achievement levels.

Incidentally, Vermont, which kicks Arizona's ass in achievement, is led by a former middle school teacher who attended (gasp!) a public university. I don't live in Vermont and I don't know what it is like there, but I have a hunch their approach might be a little different from our state. 

picture taken from http://cronkitenews.jmc.asu.edu/wp-content/uploads/2007/11/hornedebate.jpg

I would love to see schools change their approach to language, not in the way it is taught, but in the way it is modeled.  I see teachers freak out about the f-word, when there are other areas of language within the school that can be more damaging.

The Superfluous: Abbreviations

Get rid of Abbreviations.  We aren't writing text messages.  We can use full words. The two words that teachers need to avoid abbreviating entirely are cumulative and assessments.  And for the love of God, could we avoid abbreviating the two of them together?

The Annoying: Acronyms

Acronyms are LAME, as in Language Attempting Meaning Excessively.  For my part, I've had fun re-arranging the acronyms.  Kids don't do a RAFT before a writing assignment.  We use FART. (Yep, I can drop down to their level) Don't get me wrong, I'm okay with the ones that have no meaning.  An IEP is great.  A SMART goal is not.

The Trite: Buzzwords

I have no problem with using academic terminology.  Sometimes a teacher wants to discuss standard deviation of a quantitative assessment or argue about why tests that are re-normed aren't criterion-referenced at all. What I can't take are the varnished words, where they take something bad and make it sound pretty.  Don't tell me a standardized test is "common." Don't call a committee a "team."  Buzzwords breed resentment.  They reek of slick marketing to the extent that Buzzword Bingo has gone completely viral nationwide.

The Dangerous: Implied Metaphors

I've written about this often, but there is an implied metaphor in all school environments.  Often it is a business or Internet or factory metaphor.  Schools should explore the language they are using for the implied metaphor and then ask if that's really the best metaphor.  This is perhaps the most dangerous area of language.  If I can understand that the implicit metaphor is a business / economic one, I can either pick it apart or I could take the metaphor and present the notion of sustainability over short-term achievement.

Recently I wanted students to examine if they could identify a fictional story on a website.  I used one "neutral" website with true information.  I then created two articles, one that was true and one that was false.  In the first website, I created a very "professional" looking website modeled after government and corporate websites.  These included real pictures, a fading, logos, etc.  The second one included clip art pictures and simple HTML.  I rotated it so that the first class had the "false" information in the professional style and the second class had the "false" information in the unprofessional style.

Next, I asked students to identify the bias in all three websites and then determine which website was false.  Despite identifying the bias in the text itself, students were still duped by the persuasion of visuals. The results turned out exactly how I had predicted.  In both classes, the 95% of the students identified the "unprofessional" site as the one containing false information.

We had a great dialogue based upon the following questions:

1. What does this say about how images and style manipulate what we think?
2. How does power and money influence the persuasive methods online?
3. How does font style affect how people view information?  How do colors manipulate how people view accuracy?
4. Does identifying the bias in a text necessarily mean that we are able to determine accuracy? Or
4. How could we modify this?

Students offered interesting information on modifying the experiment.  For example, some said we should compare online information versus text.  Others suggested we should change the region.  For example, would students believe something in London, England over, say, Jackson, Mississippi?  Another student suggested we change the language.  Still, another suggested we change the author's last name.  Would the author's ethnicity make a difference?

I seriously considered modifying this, doing some research and repeating it and then submitting it to a journal.  However, I have a hunch that researchers have probably explored these issues of bias before.  Still, it was a really interesting activity for students to realize that they are manipulated by subtle issues of imagery and its connection to status, prestige and wealth.

About six months ago, they razed an older McDonald's near our neighborhood.  In Phoenix, the term "old" can be applied to any building over twenty years.  My guess is they had built the plastic wonderland in the early eighties.  A few weeks later, they posted a sign reading "Coming Soon: McDonald's."

The new McDonald's is deliberately urban post-modern in its facade, with the use of chrome and the inclusion of certain natural elements, the balance of simplicity with unusual angles and form for the sake of form. It's essentially a standing paradox and perhaps its even built with a wink, recognizing the pastiche and kitsch nature of creating something postmodern for the sake of selling something so unapolagetically corporate.

Still, it has me thinking about education reform.  It seems to me that there is a real movement to raze the current educational system and create something 21st century.  At McDonald's, I can access global information via flatscreen t.v. In a twenty-first century school, I can access a flat world through global information.  At the postmodern McDonald's, I have a new aesthetic that feels trendy.  In a twenty-first century school, I get oodles of iCandy with pretty icons and cute names.

So, the menu isn't much different.  The factory food remains.  The workers still receive a sub-par wage. The system is still broken and the McWorld continues to dominate.  It just looks progressive, because the chrome is still shiny.  I fear the same holds true with most of the glimmering promises of twenty-first century educational reform.

If you want a new model for the twenty-first century, there's a hamburger joint around the corner.  The ingredients are fresh, the scene is local.  It's the only place I know of that has Cholula and Tapatio sauce at each table.  The workers earn a decent pay.  It doesn't look postmodern, but it embodies the best of true postmodernism - a reconnection with community, a recovery of what we lost, a sense of connection with the local ecology (and I use that term loosely).

photo taken from -  http://maricopa360.com/?cat=15 - and, while this is not the one I am referring to, it looks pretty darn close

I recently ran into a trendy hipster the other day when I was at the hospital cafeteria.  He asked me about teaching and I shared a few stories.  When I mentioned the murals being painted over, we talked about Banksy and the concept of creative destruction and destructive creation.  Our conversation shifted to Sufjan Stevens and whether or not the Top 40 pop appeal of Owl City is a good thing and I got real passionate in my anger at Ray LaMontagne for selling his songs to an insurance company.  Before he left, he made a comment on the processed cafeteria food and we ended up talking about gardening.

As I left, I had a lingering sense that I could easily become that guy.  I mean, I could very easily end up being that trendy hipster prototype and as cool as that might be, it will never be a reality for the following reasons:

• My lack of ability to fit into tight pants and my overall lack of style
  
• My brother, who is smart and unpretentious and reminds me that intelligence is not in any way tide to indie music
  
• The fact that I live in a suburb where they rhyme their traffic warnings
• The Folgers coffee that I drink with milk and sugar instead of going for a soy latte
  
• The number of times we've eaten a dinner out of a box
• My students, who are unimpressed if I know who Banksy is or if I have any album from The Neutral Milk Hotel
• I listen to NPR instead of Democracy Now
  
• The fact that I still follow the 49ers.  If a trendy hipster is allowed any sport, it's baseball, because that's so vintage and old-school, like vinyl. 
• The fact that, no matter how much I might like indie music, my favorite band will always be Counting Crows
• I haven't been to a concert in ages
  
• I use Linux instead of Mac 

the banksy photograph was taken from flickr creative commons

Sometimes a blog can look pretentious when in fact a blogger is simply being transparent. In a culture of anti-intellectualism, we sort-of expect smart bloggers to use folksy language and quote pop culture references.  Matthew Koslowski probably won't tie in truth to the viewing of an episode of The Office. Instead, he'll use a quasi-bohemian novel as a motif.  He rarely uses pictures or videos.

If I were to describe his blog, I would compare it to a literary journal online.  It is intelligent, well-written and well-researched.  I appreciate the fact that he does not try and tell me how to teach.  No formulas. No keys.  No steps.

I would also describe the blog as humble, but not in the way people tend to think of a humble blog.  His language is rich and complicated.  He makes no effort to drop down his register and use slang. Yet, in the content, he is willing to be vulnerable. In his post today, admit one of the quintessential issues that his (is it mine too?) generation faces: the overinflated ego and obsession with self-esteem.  Rather than offer a long-winded theoretical explanation, he tells a personal story.

don't look too hard, it's not meant to be the least bit serious

so, apparently a progressive dinner is not a place where we eat organic food and talk about universal health care

I take my boys to the socialized park. Everything is free there.  Even the kids share with one another and get this, the parents actually chastise children who assert their individual property rights.  I live in a diverse neighborhood.  People see this and ask if it's "declining."  Apparently white flight is still the measure of a quality location.

A woman next to me sees Joel jump off the slide and says, "Should he be doing that?  It looks dangerous."  It's the equivalent of a jump from the top of a couch, but I respond with, "I think he'll be alright."  She calls her son over, cleans his arms with wipes and pulls out the hand sanitizer.  "Now, you didn't touch any kids, did you?"  He shakes his head.

A few minutes later, a girl wanders over and starts playing with Micah.  She introduces herself to me and her mom looks up from her iPhone and chastizes her for talking to strangers.  I can't blame her.  She doesn't know if I'll take her child away from her.  What she also doesn't know is that her cell phone is taking her away from her child.

Her husband asks, "Are you going to let him use that?" when Joel goes to the drinking fountain. Minutes later, his two year old is guzzling a twenty-ounce bottle of Gatorade. It's at this point that I start to feel really self-righteous about adhering to the values of a Culture of Fear.  Until I realize that I am, on some level, afraid of these people.  I lock my doors.  I rarely talk to strangers. I'm shy.  True, my fear connects more to be introverted, but it's still a fear.

So, I push Micah on the swing and talk to the Gatorade dad.  He says he's scared of raising a girl.  He's afraid he won't be gentle and his wife thinks he's a pushover on discipline and he wonders if he'll keep his job in this economy.  He asks me what I do for a living and I explain that I watch minds grow.  When he asks if I'm worried about online predators in a computer class, I tell him that I'm more concerned with the medium itself.  We can get really scared of the boogy man and miss the magical box taking our soul.

He reminds me that Socrates worried about written text and that middle age monks warned against the Guttenberg Press.  "Is it possible that you might be a little too worried about the dangers of computers?" he asks.  Micah hears us and responds, "It's possible pig."  

I leave with the lingering sense that this park is not a particularly neurotic place, but we are all united by the common experience of irrational fear.  What if, on some level, we're all afraid of the wrong things?

photo credit - stuant63's photostream on flickr creative commons

I recently moved past the 1,000 post mark. There were no balloons or confetti or cyber high fives, which confirms the sense that it's more about the journey than the destination.  Still, I see some value in reflecting on the journey when I reach various milestones.

How It Started

I first started blogging out of a desire to meet other teachers and engage in philosophical dialogue.  Over time, I grew more personal in my approach.  Vulnerability and transparency don't come easy to an introvert.  I had too many blogs: myspace blog, teacherlingo blog, multiple musings - all separate, in different compartments.  Recently, perhaps a month ago, I combined the blogs into one. 

Where I Am

More recently, I've been using other methods in this blog.  I have posted more visual musings, more videos and more podcasts.  I've had a few discussion questions.  This week, I started posting practical ideas and resources and I'll be posting lesson plans soon.

The Future of This Blog

I really hope blogging isn't simply a fad.  I want to continue this process as long as I teach. I love to write and I've been really encouraged by my readers and their comments.  Thanks for reading my convoluted, rambling musings.

Incidentally, in honor of the National Blog Post Month, I'm dropping down to one post a day.  I'm slowly learning to "speak" less often.

The teacherlingo site is a bit unassuming.  It's not that it's bland or anything.  It's just that it doesn't have a ton of free resources being offered or discussion boards buzzing with new ideas. There aren't a ton of connections to other social media - with constant "tweet now" messages of anything like that.

Honestly, there are other great sites out there that give free lesson plans and have cool connections to Web 2.0 tools.  A teacher looking for resources will find great ideas at So You Want to Teach (I'd recommend this to people thinking of teaching) or at Classroom 2.0 or in some of the advice and discussion occurring at TeachHub (I really like some of their tie-ins to Twitter that they've done lately).  All of those sites are excellent, but they have a broad, diverse focus. 

So, about two years ago, I was a lonely teacher feeling frustrated by the often political and shallow reality of the profession.  Yes, I was too idealistic.  True, I had no desire for seven steps or five keys or any other kind of practical advice.  So, I looked up "teacher blog community" and saw TeacherLingo.  What I found was a relief.  Although on some level I said I wanted more ideas and resources, what I really wanted was a voice. Teacherlingo became a place where I could be open about my thoughts on teaching.

It wasn't long before I had people commenting on my blogs and I had an opportunity to comment on theirs.  The focus has remained on blogs.  Not tweets.  Not friends. Not plugins for Facebook.  It's been this simplicity and ease of navigating that allowed me to read other edublogs.  On some level, I feel like I "know" This Brazen Teacher, Science Teacher, Betty, The Doc, Mrs. Love, Sneaker Teacher and others because they all exist in this intangible, at times almost authentic community of bloggers.

While the process is organic, I learned about many of them through the updates on TeacherLingo.  I want to assure you that I don't endorse products often.  I don't plug things and advertise for stuff on my blog.  I'm not paid by TeacherLingo. I'm not a secret investor or anything. I just feel grateful for the existence of the TeacherLingo site.

Jesus stands before Pilate and gives a brief explanation of his identity.  Blind by hubris, still a bit drunk with power, a hungover Roman governor speaks for humanity.  "What is truth?" he says or asks or perhaps even exclaims.

Silence.

There would be a time for preaching and teaching and speaking.  A time for listening intently.  In this moment, though, the answer is silence.

I would do well to follow that example a little more often.

photo credit - flickr creative commons - luzer's photostream

is it my imagination, or does he always look a little lost?

Arne Duncan sets up an elevator for me. We cram as many students into our mechanical box in a systematic Race to the Top.  I'm relegated to a button pusher. At one time an elevator man had a place. He was an expert trained, not just in elevators, but in the art of conversation.  Not in the twenty-first century.  After all, technology is the teacher.  He's simply a facilitator. Let the system do its work.  In the background, we might get a bland jazz tune created for the sole purpose of not offending anyone.  Each person follows the elevator etiquette of respectful silence and individualism.  It's tidy and efficient, a well-oiled machine, totally predictable.

So, I saw this video by The Frames where they sing "Star Star" on an elevator.  It's the last thing I would ever call elevator music.  The moment is creative, quirky and a bit out of place.  So, within this metal box, they are playing an acoustic set and it's beautiful.  True, it's a bit contrived, but it makes me think about my place within the system.

My wife's grandpa asked me why I still stay in education.  "We had silly politics back then, but when I taught, it was clear that it was my classroom.  They weren't trying to make things teacher-proof.  They trusted us.  I don't think I'd last very long in the current system."  Maybe not.  He's a bit loud and provocative and he might piss off a few people, but I'm guessing he could make it just fine.

I have a hunch that he would do exactly what most subversive sages do.  Outside the elevator, he would hold the instruction booklet about pushing buttons and he would talk about the best methods for elevator mechanics and he would listen quietly at the experts who have spent a lifetime on the top floor and know nothing about what it means to be grounded.

Then, when the door is shut and the elevator is working, he would move the kids from silence to dialogue and from isolation to cooperation. He would abandon the elevator etiquette.  He'd sing a tune with them.  Or maybe not.  Maybe he would get them to take the stairs and, though it is slower, it would be healthier and more sustainable in the long run.  And when the fire hits and the unpredictable occurs, his students would make it.  Either way, to the executives at the top, it wouldn't look very different. The results would be similar, but the process would be entirely different.

photo credit - flickr creative commons

At one time, I had an entire "resource blog" and then I deleted it.  Recently, someone asked if I would post my resources and maybe start posting some lesson plans.  I'm all about collaboration, but there is a part of me that chooses this reluctantly.

Here are my hesitations:

• My mentor Brad the Philosopher once mentioned that he burned all the lessons he wrote.  When pressed on this, he said, "Okay, I'm using hyperbole.  I recycle them.  I just don't want to be reliant on the same strategies and perspectives each time I teach." 
  
• I want to have a stronger division between my personal views and my classroom.  A wise man gave me some suggestions today about keeping my professional career safe from misinterpretation.  For those reasons, I am a little reluctant about posting lessons.  Still, I don't see the lessons as being critical of the school district or open to misinterpretation, so they might be okay.
• My resources are "not-so-master" in nature.  Therefore, I'm reluctant to let people see them, since I'm not always sure they will be helpful but also because I don't want to be "found out."  On some level, I want to look like a big shot and sharing my resources proves that I'm good but not great. 
• What works well in one context might not work in another context. 
  
• I am a big fan of teachers developing things on their own.  A glut of tools actually inhibits the creative impulse, while poverty, pain, confusion and necessity drive creativity. I know that might sound too Zen, but it's a thought.

So, despite these misgivings, I'm posting stuff anyway.  I believe in the public commons.  I believe in the need to share resources as teachers.  I'm a fan of democracy.  So, take them or use them.  They'll be on the side of my blog all linked up.  (I'm already starting the process)

photo credit
flickr creative commons
http://www.flickr.com/photos/publicdomainphotos/3126618425/