Did something this morning that made me very sad...I unfriended two of my original students on Facebook.
In all of this chaos over the murder of George Floyd and the subsequent protests and riots, it has been very telling to see who has posted what. Some people have been very vocal in their support the entire movement including the rioting, some have been supportive of Black Lives Matter but still condemn the violence, and some have remained silent. I understand these positions, although the people who choose to remain silent on the subject are enjoying their privilege to do so. I have agreed with some, I have disagreed with others, and I have unfollowed a few.
So the unfriending of these two ladies that I love dearly has struck me in a very particularly deep way. I made my choice to do so because of the voices they were choosing very specifically to amplify. Neither posted anything decrying the murder of George Floyd, and neither posted anything in support of even peaceful protests. Instead, each of them chose to post social media videos and posts from Candance Owens and Terrence K. Williams, two Black people very vocal in their support of President Trump and the Republican party and their lack of support for the struggles of their own people. These posts accuse Black people of living in the past and relying on their race for excuses, and George Floyd of being a criminal who shouldn't have gotten arrested in the first place.
I struggled with the decision--should I simply unfollow them to remain connected to them on social media without seeing what they posted? Should I block all the hateful voices they chose to amplify over the thousands of other voices who are crying out for help and just keep around the "fun" things they post? What finally sealed the deal for me, so to speak, was the way one of the ladies worded her post of Candace Owens (who said she did not support George Floyd). She said something to the effect that she was sad that George Floyd had died and she believed racism was real but that she also "believed in this woman and what she had to say" and that "anyone who thought this woman did not deserve to voice her opinion could unfriend her" (the quotations are to the best of my recollection because after unfriending this lady I could not see the post and therefore could not guarantee that I was quoting her correctly).
I thought really hard about that. I could easily block the post. I could easily unfollow. But those two parts, "believing in that woman" and believing that she should voice her opinion, really hit me. If she really does believe in that woman, then she has not learned the empathy and critical thinking skills that I should have taught her. Could I still teach her those things now? Maybe, but I have to stop thinking of those students I had as "girls" or even "young ladies". They are now in their early 30's, many of them married with children and careers. They are living the lives they have chosen, and they are both choosing to disregard the lives that others cannot choose BUT live. And I thought about the statement that Candace Owens deserves to voice her opinion.
Everyone has opinions, and everyone has the right to voice their opinions. Absolutely true.
But opinions are not truths. Opinions are things we form based on our preferences, our experiences, and our biases. My sons don't really like most vegetables. That's true, although they tend to avoid eating vegetables they've never tried before based on their previous experiences with different vegetables. This is problematic, because vegetables are healthy and they need to eat them to be healthy. So their opinion, which is formed based on limited experience, could be harmful to them and is limiting their experiences further.
Some opinions are formed despite significant evidence to the contrary. There are people whose opinions include things like "man hasn't actually landed on the moon" and "the Earth is actually flat". They have these opinions despite the evidence to the contrary. They have those opinions, and those opinions are flat out wrong. The opinion that Black people do not suffer oppression and do not deserve justice is not only flat out wrong, it is harmful and hateful and very much at odds with lots of evidence to the contrary.
So I did not unfriend these ladies because Candace Owens doesn't have a right to say her opinion; I unfriended them because Candace Owens' opinion is wrong and harmful and hateful and they have chosen to buy into that rather than listen to the voices of others. I feel like I have failed these ladies because I should have taught them empathy and critical thinking skills which they seem to now be lacking.
I do not and never will hate these ladies. They are special to my heart. But I needed to do something to let them know my disapproval of their choices and willful ignorance, and maybe my loss of respect for them might make some kind of an impact, since all my words this week apparently have not.
Ramblings on teaching, kayaking, dieting, sports, music, life in the South, life in the West, and life in general. Don't like it? Continue downriver and find another port...
Thursday, June 04, 2020
Monday, June 01, 2020
Where are we going, and why are we in this handbasket?
229.8
Wow, it's been less than a week since my last post, and the world has truly fallen apart. The same day I posted about Christian Cooper, the African American birder in New York who nearly fell victim to a "swat" by a racist white woman in Central Park, our worst fears were realized in the murder of George Floyd, an African American man in Minneapolis who was killed during his arrest for what was believed to be a fake $20 bill (it wasn't). He did not resist. He was cuffed and thrown on the ground, and an officer knelt on the back of his neck. George Floyd begged to be let up, pleading with the officer that he could not breathe, that he was in pain, that they were killing him. He cried for his mother (who died two years ago). And then he died. The officer knelt on his neck for more than eight minutes. Three other officers looked on while it happened. It took four days for the Minneapolis Police Department to arrest the officer--oh, excuse me, "former officer" because they did fire him--for murder. The other three officers were not arrested and did not lose their jobs. And predictably, there have been riots in most major cities around the country as people protest a racist system that serves and protects dirty cops far more than it serves and protects minority populations.
I am angry. I am angry that George Floyd was murdered. I am angry that the only reason we know about it is because someone happened to film it. I am angry that it took four days to arrest the officer and that the other officers, who were very much complicit, still walk free. I am angry at the number of friends I have on social media who "tut tutted" over George Floyd's murder but have spent much more time and many more words decrying the looting that is occurring, despite evidence that the looting is a small portion of the protesting and seems to be mostly committed by outsiders (especially white outsiders). I am angry at my social media friends for saying things like "THEY are being divisive" and "THEY are destroying their message" without understanding that the people saying "THEY" are the ones being divisive by not recognizing that it isn't "their" message, it's "OUR" message.
I want to rage. I want to grab these people and shake them. I want them to understand what it means to be oppressed. I want them to feel a taste, just a taste, of what people of color have experienced in the past 400 years.
And if I'm that mad--a white upper class woman who experiences tremendous privilege--just imagine how actual members of the Black community feel.
Wow, it's been less than a week since my last post, and the world has truly fallen apart. The same day I posted about Christian Cooper, the African American birder in New York who nearly fell victim to a "swat" by a racist white woman in Central Park, our worst fears were realized in the murder of George Floyd, an African American man in Minneapolis who was killed during his arrest for what was believed to be a fake $20 bill (it wasn't). He did not resist. He was cuffed and thrown on the ground, and an officer knelt on the back of his neck. George Floyd begged to be let up, pleading with the officer that he could not breathe, that he was in pain, that they were killing him. He cried for his mother (who died two years ago). And then he died. The officer knelt on his neck for more than eight minutes. Three other officers looked on while it happened. It took four days for the Minneapolis Police Department to arrest the officer--oh, excuse me, "former officer" because they did fire him--for murder. The other three officers were not arrested and did not lose their jobs. And predictably, there have been riots in most major cities around the country as people protest a racist system that serves and protects dirty cops far more than it serves and protects minority populations.
I am angry. I am angry that George Floyd was murdered. I am angry that the only reason we know about it is because someone happened to film it. I am angry that it took four days to arrest the officer and that the other officers, who were very much complicit, still walk free. I am angry at the number of friends I have on social media who "tut tutted" over George Floyd's murder but have spent much more time and many more words decrying the looting that is occurring, despite evidence that the looting is a small portion of the protesting and seems to be mostly committed by outsiders (especially white outsiders). I am angry at my social media friends for saying things like "THEY are being divisive" and "THEY are destroying their message" without understanding that the people saying "THEY" are the ones being divisive by not recognizing that it isn't "their" message, it's "OUR" message.
I want to rage. I want to grab these people and shake them. I want them to understand what it means to be oppressed. I want them to feel a taste, just a taste, of what people of color have experienced in the past 400 years.
And if I'm that mad--a white upper class woman who experiences tremendous privilege--just imagine how actual members of the Black community feel.
Tuesday, May 26, 2020
Public Shaming, Doxxing, Racism, Dog Abuse, Attempted Murder...what a day it's been
5/26/20
Oof. I initially thought I would make this into a thread and post it on Twitter, but as a member of the problematic demographic in this situation (privileged white women), I should probably sit this one out on social media.
So. A black man in New York City was enjoying Central Park and was in an area called the Ramble, which is for wildlife and bird watching. There is a leash law in effect in that area. He came across a white woman who was exercising her cocker spaniel off leash. He asked her to leash her dog in accordance with the leash law, and she refused, saying her dog needed to be exercised. He asked her to take the dog to a different part of the park where she could run the dog off leash, and again she refused, saying it was "dangerous". At this point, the man wisely started filming the encounter with his cell phone. She became aggressive with him, approaching him and wagging her finger in his face, telling him to stop filming. He maintained his calm the entire time, even when she then pulled out her own phone and informed him that she was going to call the police and tell them that an African American man was threatening her life. She proceeded to actually make the call and intentionally changed her voice to make herself sound distressed, telling the 911 operator that she was being threatened by an African American man in the park. [The entire time this is going on, she has her dog by the collar and is lifting the dog off the ground by the neck. The dog is choking and struggling.] After her call, the man, who remained calm the entire time, thanked her for finally putting the leash on the dog and walked away. He posted the video to social media, and it was then shared by his sister. The video went viral, and the story was widely shared on multiple platforms. Eventually, it reached someone who could identify her, a young man who said he had been a dog walker for her. He identified her by name, and the internet took over. They found her FB and Instagram accounts, the rescue where she had gotten the dog, her Linkedin account, and of course her employer. People implored the rescue to reclaim the dog (she voluntarily surrendered the dog to them). People demanded she be fired (her employer has put her on administrative leave while they investigate). People want her to be arrested (which hasn't happened yet). She did put out a weak apology, saying that she was afraid, that he shouted at her (there isn't any evidence to support that), and that she now realizes that she is in a privileged group that can rely on the police for protection but that there are groups that cannot rely on the same thing (African Americans).
All of this, of course, comes on the heels of the public murder of Ahmaud Arbery, a black man jogging in a neighborhood outside Brunswick, Georgia, and a host of other shooting deaths by police of unarmed African Americans, like the recent shooting of paramedic Breonna Taylor by police who entered her apartment looking for a suspect who was actually already in police custody and hadn't been anywhere near there...I could go on.
The responses on social media have been vast and varied. Dog Twitter was appalled at her treatment of her dog. In searching for information about this woman, they found a surprising number of posts she made about dramatic and dangerous things that happened to the dog, leading some to wonder if it might be a situation of Munchausen by proxy involving her dog. Birding Twitter used the situation as an example of people misusing wild spaces and related their own encounters with unleashed dogs and privileged idiots. There were plenty of apologists who agreed that the woman had done a terrible thing but that they could understand her behavior *to an extent* because they believed that she really thought she was in danger. And an unsurprising number (I guess) of people were distressed at the fact that this woman had been "doxxed" (had personal identifying information posted publicly for the purpose of harassment) and that she did not deserve to have her life ruined.
There are many examples of situations where this kind of public shaming has gotten out of control. I am familiar with the issue because I actually use it in my classroom--Justine Sacco, and Jon Ronson's book So You've Been Publicly Shamed; various United Airlines debacles, including the doctor dragged off the UA flight in 2017; Dani Mathers, the model who took a photo of an older woman in a locker room at a gym and posted it to Snapchat; trophy hunters like Walter Palmer and Rebecca Francis; and even some local incidents in my town. I pose the questions to my students to think about: can public shaming be justifiable? Are there times that it is beneficial? How can we keep it from becoming an out-of-control situation?
So I found myself very interested in this incident, mainly because of those last two groups of people. This woman has been labeled "Central Park Karen," yet another white woman employing her privilege at the expense of another, a person of color. The apologists chuckle a little uncomfortably at the nickname, agree that the woman was out of line to call the cops, but then justify her behavior *to an extent* by pointing out that she is a woman alone in a wooded area and is confronted by a man. And I get it; I do. I am a woman. I have been alone before and had men come up and talk to me. I was uncomfortable. I could have been in danger. But you know what I didn't do? I didn't call the cops on someone who didn't deserve it. He wasn't threatening her. He asked her to put her dog on a leash and reminded her that she was breaking the rules. And her response was to get pissy with him and get in his face. He was justified in filming her, for his own self defense, just like cops wearing body cameras do it for the safety of themselves and the safety of others. Because if there was no record of it happening, honestly, WHO would believe the word of a black man over a white woman? Sure, it's been 60 years since To Kill A Mockingbird was written and 85 years since its events would have taken place, but the world sadly has not changed all that much. We are very, very concerned with believing all victims, which is good, but we cannot forget that there should also be a policy of innocent until proven guilty, and that policy is forgotten when it involves people of color over and over again. She used her privilege to call the cops on him, because she was pissed that he wanted her to obey the leash law. And yes, she knew what she was doing. She was not terrified when she interacted with him; she was firm and strong with him. She did not affect fear in her voice until she was on the phone to the 911 operator, and that was intentional. She was not afraid of him; she was MAD. She pretended to be afraid on the phone to make them believe her, not him. I can also tell this because of her word choice. When she warned the man that she was going to call the police, she didn't say, "I'm going to call the police and tell them you threatened me" (which would have been a lie anyway). She said, "I'm going to tell them there's AN AFRICAN AMERICAN MAN threatening my life." You CANNOT tell me that she is unaware that those are loaded words to a police dispatcher. You CANNOT tell me that she doesn't know that the police will come with guns drawn. She was the one breaking the law, yet she sicced the cops on a black man because she was mad that he had the audacity to call her on it. Do you understand what she did? It's not that different from the bad guy in a movie who has been disarmed by the good guy and is being held at gunpoint shouting at the cops when they finally show up, "He's trying to kill me!" and the cops jump on the good guy and the bad guy gets away. Except guess what? This hero is black, and the cops just shoot him instead. SHE THREATENED HIS LIFE. She could get him killed, AND SHE DOES NOT FUCKING CARE.
And that's where I address the second group, the ones who think she didn't deserve to be doxxed. After all, she was just breaking a leash law, right? WRONG. Attempted murder is a crime. She tried to get this guy killed. I absolutely believe that to be true. She knew the cops would come after him, she intentionally changed her voice on the phone to guarantee it, and she did not care if he got shot in the process. Because he dared to call her out. A black man dared to call out a white woman who was breaking the law, and she could have gotten him killed. Remember that line in Of Mice and Men, when Curley's wife tells Crooks, the black stable buck, "I could get you strung up on a tree so easy it ain't even funny." She knows exactly what power she holds, and she wields it against a black man with ferocity. She's not just a Karen asking to speak to a manager. She's Mayella Ewell, willing to sacrifice a black man to cover up her own crime. She's Curley's wife, punishing a black man for telling her she was somewhere she shouldn't be. So, while I agree that public shaming and doxxing very often get out of hand and can put innocent people in danger, this time, I think it's justified. I think this woman deserves to be shamed. I think she deserves to lose her dog. I think she deserves to lose her job. Because I think she is a dog abuser and a racist who tried to get a black man killed. And I think she knows it.
Oof. I initially thought I would make this into a thread and post it on Twitter, but as a member of the problematic demographic in this situation (privileged white women), I should probably sit this one out on social media.
So. A black man in New York City was enjoying Central Park and was in an area called the Ramble, which is for wildlife and bird watching. There is a leash law in effect in that area. He came across a white woman who was exercising her cocker spaniel off leash. He asked her to leash her dog in accordance with the leash law, and she refused, saying her dog needed to be exercised. He asked her to take the dog to a different part of the park where she could run the dog off leash, and again she refused, saying it was "dangerous". At this point, the man wisely started filming the encounter with his cell phone. She became aggressive with him, approaching him and wagging her finger in his face, telling him to stop filming. He maintained his calm the entire time, even when she then pulled out her own phone and informed him that she was going to call the police and tell them that an African American man was threatening her life. She proceeded to actually make the call and intentionally changed her voice to make herself sound distressed, telling the 911 operator that she was being threatened by an African American man in the park. [The entire time this is going on, she has her dog by the collar and is lifting the dog off the ground by the neck. The dog is choking and struggling.] After her call, the man, who remained calm the entire time, thanked her for finally putting the leash on the dog and walked away. He posted the video to social media, and it was then shared by his sister. The video went viral, and the story was widely shared on multiple platforms. Eventually, it reached someone who could identify her, a young man who said he had been a dog walker for her. He identified her by name, and the internet took over. They found her FB and Instagram accounts, the rescue where she had gotten the dog, her Linkedin account, and of course her employer. People implored the rescue to reclaim the dog (she voluntarily surrendered the dog to them). People demanded she be fired (her employer has put her on administrative leave while they investigate). People want her to be arrested (which hasn't happened yet). She did put out a weak apology, saying that she was afraid, that he shouted at her (there isn't any evidence to support that), and that she now realizes that she is in a privileged group that can rely on the police for protection but that there are groups that cannot rely on the same thing (African Americans).
All of this, of course, comes on the heels of the public murder of Ahmaud Arbery, a black man jogging in a neighborhood outside Brunswick, Georgia, and a host of other shooting deaths by police of unarmed African Americans, like the recent shooting of paramedic Breonna Taylor by police who entered her apartment looking for a suspect who was actually already in police custody and hadn't been anywhere near there...I could go on.
The responses on social media have been vast and varied. Dog Twitter was appalled at her treatment of her dog. In searching for information about this woman, they found a surprising number of posts she made about dramatic and dangerous things that happened to the dog, leading some to wonder if it might be a situation of Munchausen by proxy involving her dog. Birding Twitter used the situation as an example of people misusing wild spaces and related their own encounters with unleashed dogs and privileged idiots. There were plenty of apologists who agreed that the woman had done a terrible thing but that they could understand her behavior *to an extent* because they believed that she really thought she was in danger. And an unsurprising number (I guess) of people were distressed at the fact that this woman had been "doxxed" (had personal identifying information posted publicly for the purpose of harassment) and that she did not deserve to have her life ruined.
There are many examples of situations where this kind of public shaming has gotten out of control. I am familiar with the issue because I actually use it in my classroom--Justine Sacco, and Jon Ronson's book So You've Been Publicly Shamed; various United Airlines debacles, including the doctor dragged off the UA flight in 2017; Dani Mathers, the model who took a photo of an older woman in a locker room at a gym and posted it to Snapchat; trophy hunters like Walter Palmer and Rebecca Francis; and even some local incidents in my town. I pose the questions to my students to think about: can public shaming be justifiable? Are there times that it is beneficial? How can we keep it from becoming an out-of-control situation?
So I found myself very interested in this incident, mainly because of those last two groups of people. This woman has been labeled "Central Park Karen," yet another white woman employing her privilege at the expense of another, a person of color. The apologists chuckle a little uncomfortably at the nickname, agree that the woman was out of line to call the cops, but then justify her behavior *to an extent* by pointing out that she is a woman alone in a wooded area and is confronted by a man. And I get it; I do. I am a woman. I have been alone before and had men come up and talk to me. I was uncomfortable. I could have been in danger. But you know what I didn't do? I didn't call the cops on someone who didn't deserve it. He wasn't threatening her. He asked her to put her dog on a leash and reminded her that she was breaking the rules. And her response was to get pissy with him and get in his face. He was justified in filming her, for his own self defense, just like cops wearing body cameras do it for the safety of themselves and the safety of others. Because if there was no record of it happening, honestly, WHO would believe the word of a black man over a white woman? Sure, it's been 60 years since To Kill A Mockingbird was written and 85 years since its events would have taken place, but the world sadly has not changed all that much. We are very, very concerned with believing all victims, which is good, but we cannot forget that there should also be a policy of innocent until proven guilty, and that policy is forgotten when it involves people of color over and over again. She used her privilege to call the cops on him, because she was pissed that he wanted her to obey the leash law. And yes, she knew what she was doing. She was not terrified when she interacted with him; she was firm and strong with him. She did not affect fear in her voice until she was on the phone to the 911 operator, and that was intentional. She was not afraid of him; she was MAD. She pretended to be afraid on the phone to make them believe her, not him. I can also tell this because of her word choice. When she warned the man that she was going to call the police, she didn't say, "I'm going to call the police and tell them you threatened me" (which would have been a lie anyway). She said, "I'm going to tell them there's AN AFRICAN AMERICAN MAN threatening my life." You CANNOT tell me that she is unaware that those are loaded words to a police dispatcher. You CANNOT tell me that she doesn't know that the police will come with guns drawn. She was the one breaking the law, yet she sicced the cops on a black man because she was mad that he had the audacity to call her on it. Do you understand what she did? It's not that different from the bad guy in a movie who has been disarmed by the good guy and is being held at gunpoint shouting at the cops when they finally show up, "He's trying to kill me!" and the cops jump on the good guy and the bad guy gets away. Except guess what? This hero is black, and the cops just shoot him instead. SHE THREATENED HIS LIFE. She could get him killed, AND SHE DOES NOT FUCKING CARE.
And that's where I address the second group, the ones who think she didn't deserve to be doxxed. After all, she was just breaking a leash law, right? WRONG. Attempted murder is a crime. She tried to get this guy killed. I absolutely believe that to be true. She knew the cops would come after him, she intentionally changed her voice on the phone to guarantee it, and she did not care if he got shot in the process. Because he dared to call her out. A black man dared to call out a white woman who was breaking the law, and she could have gotten him killed. Remember that line in Of Mice and Men, when Curley's wife tells Crooks, the black stable buck, "I could get you strung up on a tree so easy it ain't even funny." She knows exactly what power she holds, and she wields it against a black man with ferocity. She's not just a Karen asking to speak to a manager. She's Mayella Ewell, willing to sacrifice a black man to cover up her own crime. She's Curley's wife, punishing a black man for telling her she was somewhere she shouldn't be. So, while I agree that public shaming and doxxing very often get out of hand and can put innocent people in danger, this time, I think it's justified. I think this woman deserves to be shamed. I think she deserves to lose her dog. I think she deserves to lose her job. Because I think she is a dog abuser and a racist who tried to get a black man killed. And I think she knows it.
Saturday, April 18, 2020
Life During The Apocalypse: Day Whatever.
It's more than just being tired of being stuck in the house. It's more than just missing my students. It's more than just frustration that not all of my students are turning in work or are even able to turn work in. It's more than annoyance at having to ride herd on my own kids to get their school work done each day. It's more than just ennui that keeps me from getting my grading done. It's more than severe disgust in my fellow human beings who put their own needs above those of others. It's more than just the uncertainty that surrounds my school year. It's more than just the endless ugliness from people on social media. It's more than just the ten + pounds I've gained in the five weeks we've been home. It's more than just wanting answers about how I'm going to assess and give grades to students who have been working under less than ideal conditions for half their semester. It's more than just trying to figure out what might happen if we go back to school and endanger our families and friends. It's more than just worrying about my health and the health of my family. It's more than just a need to eat food that I haven't cooked myself. It's more than wanting to send my kids out to play with their friends for their sake and for mine. It's more than wishing spring would solidify itself with nicer weather because I'm tired of snow.
It's more.
It's more.
Tuesday, March 24, 2020
Teaching during the apocalypse: I am NOT a home school parent.
Oh my Lord in heaven, today has been a challenge, and it's only noon.
Today is the first day that my kids have really struggled to get assignments completed, and they have really pushed back against me when I've tried to encourage them. There have been multiple complaints about how much work they're having to do. They are grumpy, and I'm really frustrated with their lack of motivation.
And I realized why they are hitting the wall today, finally: their teachers have sorted out how to do at least some of their instruction online, so they are starting to post all of their regular daily work instead of just a handful of review assignments. The kids couldn't understand why they had so much to do, and I had to explain that this is different than just having homework to do, or having assignments that they missed because we went on vacation. This is school. At home.
I never wanted to be a home school parent. Kids do not by nature take instruction well from their parents. And for most of us parents, it's been a while since we've had to do the types of assignments our kids are doing. I'm lucky, since my kids are in lower grades, because I still know how to do the work they need. But I'm sure there are parents out there who feel a little like Mr. Incredible in The Incredibles 2, trying to help Dash with his math.
I chuckled a bit last week at parents who were posting elaborate schedules for their kids to follow each day, and at other parents who were making jokes about their kids going feral. But now, this week, I'm starting to look at both ends of that spectrum and trying to find a happy medium between them. I don't know that I have the endurance and intestinal fortitude to force my kids to follow a rigid schedule, because I don't have the time to ride herd on them all day long and still get my own school work done. But I also refuse to just let them spend the day on their tablets or video games. So I need to figure out how to strike a balance between the two, both for the benefit of my kids' education and the maintenance of my own sanity.
Today is the first day that my kids have really struggled to get assignments completed, and they have really pushed back against me when I've tried to encourage them. There have been multiple complaints about how much work they're having to do. They are grumpy, and I'm really frustrated with their lack of motivation.
And I realized why they are hitting the wall today, finally: their teachers have sorted out how to do at least some of their instruction online, so they are starting to post all of their regular daily work instead of just a handful of review assignments. The kids couldn't understand why they had so much to do, and I had to explain that this is different than just having homework to do, or having assignments that they missed because we went on vacation. This is school. At home.
I never wanted to be a home school parent. Kids do not by nature take instruction well from their parents. And for most of us parents, it's been a while since we've had to do the types of assignments our kids are doing. I'm lucky, since my kids are in lower grades, because I still know how to do the work they need. But I'm sure there are parents out there who feel a little like Mr. Incredible in The Incredibles 2, trying to help Dash with his math.
I chuckled a bit last week at parents who were posting elaborate schedules for their kids to follow each day, and at other parents who were making jokes about their kids going feral. But now, this week, I'm starting to look at both ends of that spectrum and trying to find a happy medium between them. I don't know that I have the endurance and intestinal fortitude to force my kids to follow a rigid schedule, because I don't have the time to ride herd on them all day long and still get my own school work done. But I also refuse to just let them spend the day on their tablets or video games. So I need to figure out how to strike a balance between the two, both for the benefit of my kids' education and the maintenance of my own sanity.
Monday, March 23, 2020
Teaching During the Apocalypse: Week 2 Day 1
First day of our second week of school cancellation for COVID-19. Trying to find some kind of rhythm or routine to fall back on. Had to go pick up a packet of assignments for my second grader first thing this morning, and since then I've been doing double duty, trying to get my kids to do their school work and trying to get assignments and materials posted and checked for my high school students.
On one hand, I feel like I'm somewhat prepared for the week. I only have a few assignments I need to construct for my students, and I pretty much know what those are and what they will look like. On the other hand, I feel like I'm behind the eight ball because I have assignments to grade from the week before school got cancelled, and I have to get them all graded ASAP. This wouldn't be quite as hard to do if this felt like a "normal" school cancellation, like a snow day. But it doesn't feel like that at all. The novelty of being home has worn off for everyone, even the dog. The boys are chafing to go outside and do something, and are resisting doing their school work. I too am bored and tired of being inside; ennui is a powerful demotivator.
I know I need to get some stuff done, but I'm not really feeling it. Le sigh. Hopefully I can remotivate myself this afternoon.
On one hand, I feel like I'm somewhat prepared for the week. I only have a few assignments I need to construct for my students, and I pretty much know what those are and what they will look like. On the other hand, I feel like I'm behind the eight ball because I have assignments to grade from the week before school got cancelled, and I have to get them all graded ASAP. This wouldn't be quite as hard to do if this felt like a "normal" school cancellation, like a snow day. But it doesn't feel like that at all. The novelty of being home has worn off for everyone, even the dog. The boys are chafing to go outside and do something, and are resisting doing their school work. I too am bored and tired of being inside; ennui is a powerful demotivator.
I know I need to get some stuff done, but I'm not really feeling it. Le sigh. Hopefully I can remotivate myself this afternoon.
Sunday, March 22, 2020
Teaching During the Apocalypse: Week 1
Wow. So, it's been over three years since the last time I posted anything on my blog. Life completely got in the way: the kids' school and sports, work, laziness, you name it.
But I suddenly find that I have all kinds of time on my hands (while simultaneously feeling like I don't have enough time at all). One week ago today, the governor of Montana cancelled school for two weeks due to the appearance of the newest strain of coronavirus, COVID-19, in the state. We were one of the last states to have cases of the virus confirmed; but in just a week's time, we're up to 31 confirmed cases. Since the incubation period seems to be about two weeks, and during those two weeks the person is asymptomatic but contagious, I'm sure we will continue to see our number of cases growing exponentially as those who were in contact with the folks who were originally infected start to show their symptoms too, and then those who have been in contact with those folk, etc., etc., and on and on we'll go. There have been no deaths in Montana attributed to the virus, but sadly I suspect that will change soon too.
Back to my own situation: on the Friday before school was cancelled, we had a faculty meeting where we were told to start working on two weeks' worth of lesson plans and assignments that we could put online in the event of a school shutdown. Some of us were more ready than others; when we found out that school was indeed cancelled for two weeks, I already had my two weeks planned out (in fact, I had to scale back my plans when our administration told us to just post three meaningful assignments for the two weeks). I even arranged to have daily "office hours" in a video conferencing program so that I could talk face to face with any student who needed it.
In short, I thought I had things handled. As the week progressed, it became apparent that some things needed to change. Our district, and our school, wanted to unify all our approaches. They wanted to put all the information for the students in one location so it was easy to find. They wanted to find out which students were able to access online information and which students could not. All of a sudden, the flaws in our system started becoming apparent. Some of my colleagues, being less familiar with how to use technology to support their lessons, really struggled to get information together and lessons posted. Programs they had never gotten around to learning to use (or flat-out resisted learning) suddenly became mandatory, and they didn't have the support structure to learn to use them in the most effective ways. Some students weren't checking in online for a variety of reasons--they didn't have devices available with enough bandwidth or data, they didn't have internet at home, or they didn't have a responsible adult at home to "encourage" them to do assignments. A social disparity has become obvious: while most of our kids have the resources to do their schoolwork at home, not all of them do. The whole point of public education is access for all, and we are realizing that access looks very different than we thought it did. We think of our students as being "digital natives", but their expertise only extends to the technology they have regular access to. My former school is a 1:1 Mac laptop school with a distance learning facility on campus; as a school with a $12K/year tuition, it's a foregone conclusion that nearly all of their students are just fine with online learning. Ours here, not so much.
After one week, I still have a handful of students I haven't had contact with. I am planning to mail them some assignments, but there's no guarantee they will receive them, complete them, or return them. I am at a loss as to what I can do to support those students. And with one week down on our two week outage, I'm now having to prepare for the likelihood that we will be out beyond our two weeks. Our superintendent did a Q&A session online on Friday and admitted that he fully expects us to be out until at least mid April. That means we will have to move from finishing up work we were already doing and reviewing to presenting new material. What that will look like, I don't yet know.
But that's where we are. And none of that takes into account my attempts to get my elementary school kids to do the activities their teachers have posted on their apps. There's a reason I don't teach elementary. Several reasons, in fact.
So, I will be posting more often. I would like to get my students to do some journaling as well. After all, some day someone will do some research on the COVID-19 pandemic, and their journals will be primary documents. What was it like to be a student? What was it like to be a senior in high school? Hopefully I can get some of them to record their thoughts, even if it's just for their own benefit.
But I suddenly find that I have all kinds of time on my hands (while simultaneously feeling like I don't have enough time at all). One week ago today, the governor of Montana cancelled school for two weeks due to the appearance of the newest strain of coronavirus, COVID-19, in the state. We were one of the last states to have cases of the virus confirmed; but in just a week's time, we're up to 31 confirmed cases. Since the incubation period seems to be about two weeks, and during those two weeks the person is asymptomatic but contagious, I'm sure we will continue to see our number of cases growing exponentially as those who were in contact with the folks who were originally infected start to show their symptoms too, and then those who have been in contact with those folk, etc., etc., and on and on we'll go. There have been no deaths in Montana attributed to the virus, but sadly I suspect that will change soon too.
Back to my own situation: on the Friday before school was cancelled, we had a faculty meeting where we were told to start working on two weeks' worth of lesson plans and assignments that we could put online in the event of a school shutdown. Some of us were more ready than others; when we found out that school was indeed cancelled for two weeks, I already had my two weeks planned out (in fact, I had to scale back my plans when our administration told us to just post three meaningful assignments for the two weeks). I even arranged to have daily "office hours" in a video conferencing program so that I could talk face to face with any student who needed it.
In short, I thought I had things handled. As the week progressed, it became apparent that some things needed to change. Our district, and our school, wanted to unify all our approaches. They wanted to put all the information for the students in one location so it was easy to find. They wanted to find out which students were able to access online information and which students could not. All of a sudden, the flaws in our system started becoming apparent. Some of my colleagues, being less familiar with how to use technology to support their lessons, really struggled to get information together and lessons posted. Programs they had never gotten around to learning to use (or flat-out resisted learning) suddenly became mandatory, and they didn't have the support structure to learn to use them in the most effective ways. Some students weren't checking in online for a variety of reasons--they didn't have devices available with enough bandwidth or data, they didn't have internet at home, or they didn't have a responsible adult at home to "encourage" them to do assignments. A social disparity has become obvious: while most of our kids have the resources to do their schoolwork at home, not all of them do. The whole point of public education is access for all, and we are realizing that access looks very different than we thought it did. We think of our students as being "digital natives", but their expertise only extends to the technology they have regular access to. My former school is a 1:1 Mac laptop school with a distance learning facility on campus; as a school with a $12K/year tuition, it's a foregone conclusion that nearly all of their students are just fine with online learning. Ours here, not so much.
After one week, I still have a handful of students I haven't had contact with. I am planning to mail them some assignments, but there's no guarantee they will receive them, complete them, or return them. I am at a loss as to what I can do to support those students. And with one week down on our two week outage, I'm now having to prepare for the likelihood that we will be out beyond our two weeks. Our superintendent did a Q&A session online on Friday and admitted that he fully expects us to be out until at least mid April. That means we will have to move from finishing up work we were already doing and reviewing to presenting new material. What that will look like, I don't yet know.
But that's where we are. And none of that takes into account my attempts to get my elementary school kids to do the activities their teachers have posted on their apps. There's a reason I don't teach elementary. Several reasons, in fact.
So, I will be posting more often. I would like to get my students to do some journaling as well. After all, some day someone will do some research on the COVID-19 pandemic, and their journals will be primary documents. What was it like to be a student? What was it like to be a senior in high school? Hopefully I can get some of them to record their thoughts, even if it's just for their own benefit.
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