Human Nature

When you look in the mirror, you are checking how you appear, what you seem to be, and whether it matches how you feel inside. Thinking about human nature is the equivalent of our whole species looking in the mirror to check it identity.

Human nature can be considered as the ways of thinking, feeling, and acting that are common to most people. It seems such a simple concept until you explore it. Just as we all react differently to our own reflections in the mirror, the reflection we call “human nature” is also often disputed.

• Plato thought humans were rational, social animals.
• Descartes expanded Plato’s ideas, describing people as “thinking spirits”.
• Darwin said human life is experienced as a series of problems to be addressed and resolved.
• Karl Marx believed human nature is revealed through the natural progression of history. He believed that history’s natural progress could lead humans to true freedom as they recognized the cultural and social factors that alienated them from their natural identity. 
• Thomas Hobbes and John Locke deeply considered the question, are humans naturally selfish and competitive? Marx and Émile Durkheim explored a different question, are humans naturally social and altruistic?

A broader problem is that of determining which apparently fundamental human dispositions and traits are natural and which are the result of some form of learning or socialization. In our nature, shared with other primates, the basic drives are related to food, sex, security, play, and social status.

I tend to take a rather dim view of human nature. My view is that people are naturally selfish, greedy, gluttonous, lustful, envious, quick to anger, and lazy (the cardinal sins). Parents work hard to train their children to overcome that nature, or if they don’t, then they should. Coincidentally, I also believe you shouldn’t get a dog if you aren’t willing to feed it, pick up after it, and keep it from causing trouble in the neighborhood. In my defense, I haven’t purposely gotten a dog since 1977. The rest just showed up.

My dim view of human nature has been reinforced by what I see society doing — not what we say, but what we actually do. Governments argue, behave badly within and without, and make war. They usually accomplish little at great expense. Business enterprises treat everything and everyone as commodities to be exploited and discarded. By expanding their influence in government, they concentrate wealth and disrupt the environment as a matter of course. They generally show little regard for their customers and even less for their employees. 

Religions, for all of their lofty claims and bravado, consider their position of power and influence as above question. Behind all the causes of war (economic or territorial gain, nationalism, revenge, civil or revolutionary ideals) the root cause can all too often be identified as religious: beliefs, tribalism, and ultimately, self-righteous indignation. 

What is self-righteous indignation? It is a certainty, especially an unfounded one, that one is totally correct and morally superior. Self-righteous indignation is anger driven by contempt.

A colleague once casually said to me, “fortunately, you are one of the righteous.” I had to correct him — I’m anything but righteous. I’m a sinner, covered by the grace of Christ and forgiven, but my nature is not righteous. Christ, I believe, instructs us to grow beyond our human nature.

The teaching of Jesus are hard and they go against the grain. It’s little wonder that we often don’t remember what He instructed or substitute our own interpretations instead. Jesus taught his disciples that they should aspire to these goals:

• Self-Denial (turning from sin) — the world says to embrace and accept your “self”: get to know yourself, self-actualization, self-affirmation, self-awareness, self-efficacy, and, of course, self-love. Jesus said, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.”
• Seek Humility — the world generally ignores humility, sees it as a sign of weakness or something for servants, while power and wealth are worldly virtues. Jesus said, “When you are invited to a wedding feast… take the lowest place at the foot of the table… for all those who exalt themselves will be humbled and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”
• Be Just and Good — the world may talk justice, but justice for who? The world may value good, but is it a priority? Jesus said, “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. This is the essence of all that is taught in the law and the prophets.”
• Accept Rebuke — the world sees criticism as an attack and responds with anger and aggression. Jesus said, “Happy are those who are persecuted… if anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek… you will be hated by everyone because of me, but the one who stands firm to the end will be saved.”
• Don’t Make Vows (Swear) — the world has us to take oaths, pledges, and make promises. How often to you hear “I swear to God” or “Swear upon the Bible.” Jesus said, “do not swear an oath at all: either by heaven or earth… do not swear by your head… simply say ‘Yes’ or ’No’… anything beyond this comes from the evil one.”
• Be Generous — the world says “Charity begins at home”. There’s a popular social media post that says “I’ll send help to the refugees when the very last homeless veteran has been fed, clothed, and housed.” Why not just be honest and say, “I’m not willing to help refugees or veterans.” Jesus told us the parable of the Good Samaritan and also said, “Give to those who ask, and don’t turn away from those who want to borrow.”
• Love and Serve Others — the world says “I”, “Me”, “Mine.” The leaders of this world have a tool to keep us in check: find a common enemy. Divide us. It’s “Us” against “Them”. Jesus said, “There is a saying ‘Love your friends and hate your enemies!’ But I say: love your enemies! Pray for those who persecute you.” He told us that when we give food and drink to the hungry, clothe the poor and lowly, look after the sick, visit the imprisoned… we are doing those things to and for Him.
• Pray in Earnest — the world makes a show of public prayer and televised prayer, to show how righteous and godly we are. Jesus said, “When you pray go into your room, close the door, and pray to your Father who is unseen…” He tells us not recite the same prayer over and over again… that your Father knows what you need before you ask Him.
• Don’t Love Money — the world esteems visible wealth, high salaries, big houses, yachts, cruises, and admires the “successful” in obtaining the trappings of wealth: pursuit of money, love of money. Jesus said, “No one can serve two masters… you cannot serve both God and money.”
• Trust God (Have Faith) — the world says, “To thine own self be true” not realizing what Shakespeare’s Polonius in Hamlet actually meant. We are taught to be self-reliant and esteem the man who “Pulls himself up by his own bootstraps” — what a vision that is. We love the story about the ant (who stores up for the winter) and the grasshopper (who occupies his time in the delights of summer). Jesus said, “Don’t be anxious about tomorrow. God will take care of your tomorrow, too. Live one day at a time.” He cautioned us that “If you cling to your life you will lose it: but if you give it up for me, you will save it.”
• Don’t Judge — the world teaches us to judge at an early age and reinforces judgement at every step along the way. We see “winners” and “losers”, we make everything a competition, we feel superior to others, we alway strive “to get ahead” and not working about who we leave behind. Jesus said, “Don’t criticize, and then you won’t be criticized. Why worry about the speck in your brother’s eye when you have a board in your own?”
• Seek Wisdom — the world values wisdom, but mostly as a tool to succeed. More importantly, the idea of wisdom is used to seduce you into investing, purchasing, or taking up a cause. “You’d be smart to use my product”, you want to “look smart, and “smart money”investments. We confuse the wise with the rich and powerful. Jesus said, “Beware of false teachers who come disguised as harmless sheep, but are wolves and will tear your apart.” He prayed, “Oh Father, Lord of Heaven and Earth, thank you for hiding the truth from those who think themselves so wise, and for revealing it to little children. For it pleased you to do it this way.”
• Love God — the world may tell you that loving God is okay, but what does the world do? What does the world want you to do — how does the world show that love? By setting us upon each other, because, after all, “God is on our side”. “Human nature”, that’s often just a justification to something you want to do… something you know is questionable at best. “We were so disappointed with his actions, but I guess that’s just human nature.” It’s no wonder we think of ourselves as being good people, all the while putting these hard teachings aside. Jesus said, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and will all your mind.” That love is your compass. It sets your direction and determines your course of action.
• Spread the Good News — the world… enough about the world! Jesus went up on the mountainside and sat down, gathered his disciples around him, and delivered the Beatitudes, talked about Salt and Light, about the Law… stating that He came to accomplish their purpose and He said, “Whosoever shall break one of these least commandments and shall teach men so, shall be the least in the kingdom of heaven: but whosoever shall do and teach them, he shall be called great in the kingdom of heaven.”

Following these teachings of Jesus is not easy or natural. I don’t love with all my heart, mind, and soul. I fall short on every one of these teachings. On my own I can’t obey them, but with the grace of God it is possible. Jesus made our salvation possible. Thank Him for that. And then ask Him to help us in following His words. In showing the world that we can overcome our nature. We need to try.

We can’t ignore his teachings, setting them aside, or call ourselves “Christian” while we violate his purpose. We are instructed to pray, to embrace all these challenges, to act them out in our lives. Christ calls us to rise above human nature. 

Younger people won’t remember full-service gas stations, but I remember when they put up a signs that directed customers to the “self-serve” pumps. It’s a weak analogy, I know, but I’d like to have a full-service nature instead of a self-serve one. I think that is what Jesus was saying.

The Prayer of St. Francis

After coming back to Facebook after my year of sabbatical, I almost immediately hit the same old funk that drove me away. It’s so disheartening to unfollowing someone you’d otherwise love to keep up with because the vitriol in their posts, their denial of science, their endorsement of egocentric power, their intolerance, their bigotry, or their hate.

And It would be useful for me to know about how and when I’ve been unfollowed or unfriended because of my posts. Today I was thinking of the science of learning acquisition and brain development–how amazing it is that we learn to talk. Then I realized that the greater miracle is that some people actually learn not to.

To bury your head in the sand by leaving Facebook may give you some much needed relief, but it doesn’t help you become a better person or to help anyone else. Social media has a part to play, it’s a tool of great potential, but how do you use it for good? How can it help you or the people you connect with? How can you use it with going completely nuts?

I’ve been a little intrigued by my grandson’s posts since coming back to Facebook on August 6th. He only posts short scriptures, about one a day, and without comment. Sometimes these scriptures make me wonder why he picked that particular scripture for the day. And I’ve wondered for years if there was a way to share the Good News of Christ on social media without turning people away – without being smug, self righteous, or sanctimonious.

Today I heard the Prayer of St. Francis for the first time:

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.

Where there is hatred, let me bring love.

Where there is offense, let me bring pardon.

Where there is discord, let me bring union.

Where there is error, let me bring truth.

Where there is doubt, let me bring faith.

Where there is despair, let me bring hope.

Where there is darkness, let me bring your light.

Where there is sadness, let me bring joy.

O Master, let me not seek as much

to be consoled as to console,

to be understood as to understand,

to be loved as to love,

for it is in giving that one receives,

it is in self-forgetting that one finds,

it is in pardoning that one is pardoned,

it is in dying that one is raised to eternal life.

So, yeah, there it is: this is my goal for all future posts on social media. I know it’s a lofty goal that I’m sure to fail at, but I’m gonna try. If you see me slip, then call me out on this. Just make the comment “remember the prayer of St. Francis” and that will be our code to remind me I’m slipping up.

Inside the Walkout

Come senators, congressmen
Please heed the call
Don’t stand in the doorway
Don’t block up the hall
For he that gets hurt
Will be he who has stalled
There’s a battle outside
And it is ragin’
It’ll soon shake your windows
And rattle your walls
For the times they are a-changin’

Bob Dylan, 1964

West Virginia teachers inspired us when they declared a walkout in February. They were telling their state law makers that they had had enough of the austerity imposed by iconoclast deconstructionists. They were fed up with lowered educator qualifications and the elimination of seniority protections, demanding a livable wage and better healthcare benefits. After closing schools for nine days, they got a 5% pay raise.

Meanwhile, back in Brokelahoma, Alberto Morejon, a middle school teacher in Stillwater, provided the catalyst for the Oklahoma teacher walkout with his FaceBook page, Oklahoma Teacher Walkout – The Time Is Now. As usual, the OEA came to the party late with a take charge attitude, but did make it official in the minds of rank and file teachers, including me. The OEA plan asks for:

• $366 million for teacher pay increases
• $65 million for support professional pay increases
• $75 million to restore education funding cuts
• $71 million for state employee pay increases
• $235 million to restore core state service cuts

That link for the OEA plan, by the way, reminds me of a major complaint I have against local media, but especially KFOR: why do they continually quote the Oklahoma Council of Public Affairs as if they were a news outlet? OCPA is a conservative think tank (propaganda mill) with ties to the Bradly Foundation and ALEC, on a mission to change the course of state governments with the principles of free enterprise (elimination of public services), limited government (privatization of public services), and individual initiative (profit driven legislation) — oh, and ruin the taste of candy.

I’m retiring from public education this year in May, after a career of thirty-eight years. My goal was to focus on enjoying all of aspects of teaching that I love and enjoy. Things like watching students explore new subjects and develop new skills, sharing tools and experience with other teachers, and witnessing the wonder of curiosity. This walkout provided me with another experience which I had forgotten – participating in something much bigger than myself. At the State Capitol, the multitude of teachers there reminded me that we are the front line standing for the greater good, calling out greed and destructive political agendas, standing (or walking) in the defense of our cause. We want our children to have a better future.

Back Story

The Oklahoma Teacher Walkout was a long time coming. Since State Question 640 was voted into law back in 1992 (perhaps as a knee-jerk reaction to HB1017 that had increased revenue for education), it’s necessary to have 75% of the legislature in agreement to pass a new tax or restore an old one. At the same time, only a simple majority 51%, is necessary to cut or eliminate taxes. Politicians base their campaigns on the rhetoric of tax cuts, while avoiding the reality that every tax cut forces an equal cut in public services. It sounds like good news that your car tag price drops from $300 to $85 until you realize that all the unprepared pot-holes are going to cause $800 in damages to your car. A reduction in state income tax sounds super until your kid’s school can’t buy textbooks and has to RIF teachers.

From 1992 until 2018, only one revenue bill (an increase on tobacco tax) has “cleared the hurdles of SQ 640 and become law.” State Auditor and Inspector, Gary Jones, who once chaired the Republican Party summed up the problem by saying, “We’re not running the state based on a plan and a strategy. We’re trying to operate it on a philosophy.” A growing number of tax-cut politicians are beginning to realize that they have gone too far. Ken Miller, State Treasurer, told lawmakers “It’s the revenue, stupid!“. Leslie Osborn lamented that the legislature “had gone too far and it was time to start investing again in Oklahoma and trying to right the ship.” Even Governor Mary Fallin, even she, said that state law makers “must work to make more recurring revenue available.” I wonder if she didn’t throw up a little bit in her mouth after uttering those words.

But tax cuts and revenue squeezing is only half the story: schools, teachers, and students have long been targets of other political agendas. Admittedly, public schools have their problems – some schools more than others. There are teachers who should find another line of work, some because they are miserable, some because they really don’t like kids anymore, and some because they’re just not very good at the job. Some blame tenure and others unions, but the reality is that a bad teacher can be removed if the administrators and supervisors do their jobs properly. Public education is in the crosshairs of corporations and libertarian policy advocates because of the potential to make profits. There is a fine line differentiating the efforts to reform education and the efforts to open the education market to private enterprise. We are in the midst of an ethical civil war between greed and the common good.

I have come to believe that the root cause of the systemic failure of core public services in Oklahoma can be found in the American Legislative Exchange Council. Their position on public education is to redirect funding from free public schools to for-profit charters, voucher funded privates, and free market competition. What the rhetoric doesn’t tell you is that diversion of funds from already crippled public schools will cut the knees out from under those left standing. They don’t mention research showing that charters and private schools don’t outperform public schools. That rural and poorer urban locals would not have any options or the ability to pay for them.

Rising Tide

Local school districts had to decide for themselves about how they would participate in the walkout. In my district of Konawa, the local board of education resolved that they would stand behind whatever decision that the Konawa teachers made. Just prior to the walkout we conducted an online poll and met to discuss the result that we would close school on Monday, April 2, and remain closed until the demands of Oklahoma teachers were met. I had gone into that meeting with the intention of being quiet, realizing that I’m headed out the door and younger, more energetic teachers needed to be in charge. Anyone who knows me would have seen the folly in this approach.

When the call for comments and opinions languished for a moment, I heard myself saying that not participating in the walkout was sending the message that we are just fine with the business as usual of cutting funding, reforming by destroying, and doing more with less year after year. I pointed out that we would never have another opportunity like this one: our Local Board of Education is behind us, other state employees have joined us, and public opinion is behind us. And in response to questions about what parents would do with their kids if we closed, about whether or not we would have to extend the school year, increase the length of the school day, or lose the Fridays off I pointed out that change requires sacrifice – it is always inconvenient.

I wrote to my state representative, Zack Taylor, and state senator, Greg McCortney:

The last thing that the teachers of Oklahoma want to do is walk out. We simply want to teach, to help kids, to do our job. Maybe that’s why we have been such an easy target for the last two decades. It’s nearly impossible to organize teachers behind a common cause – to get us to agree on anything. But, congratulations to the State of Oklahoma because you have done it.

The Oklahoma Constitution states: the Legislature shall establish and maintain a system of free public schools wherein all the children of the State may be educated. It’s not too late to do this job. It’s been made more difficult, but you can’t tax cut your way out of a deficit.

Please, get it done. Don’t force teachers to walk.

Surprising Strategy

Whether it was an earnest effort or a brilliant strategy, on March 29th the State House and Senate passed SB 1010xx which:

• increased teacher and support staff pay,
• provided public employee raises, and
• provided some additional education funding.

Miraculously, these spending measures were funded (in companion bills) by:

• increasing the gross production tax modestly,
• creating a five dollar motel/hotel tax (repealed by the Senate), and
• increasing taxes on fuel and cigarettes.

Called historic, this was only the second tax increase in a twenty-six year era of tax cutting. That term inspired some creative picket signs.

My initial reaction was, “Wait… what just happened?” as my chin hit my chest. I hadn’t been caught off guard this badly since November of 2016. At first glance, it seemed the State of Oklahoma had realize that the pendulum had swung completely through the side of the clock and lawmakers had reached out to pull it back in again. Sure, $45 million from the tourism tax was being removed, but they assured us the funds would be found elsewhere. Governor Mary Fallin “encouraged teachers preparing for a strike to visit the Capitol to say “thank you” before heading back to class.” And, locally, our school put out a parent notification stating that we’d be closed Monday, April 2, so teachers could go say “thanks” and we’d be back in class the next day.

Getting that super majority vote in the house was a big deal that probably wouldn’t happen again, so I called the OEA and basically asked if 1010xx was worthy of a compromise on the “asks” they had proposed to avoid a walkout. The reply seemed reasonable: we have members calling in with views from “let’s take it and run” all the way to “we won’t go back till they meet every item.” They reminded me that the Senate and Governor still had to approve the bill and any change would send it back to the House. It wasn’t a done deal yet and the funding to replace that $5 hotel/motel tax wasn’t there yet.

The Konawa faculty met again, polled with a rather convoluted set of questions on paper, and reached a compromise position that we would resume classes on Tuesday but send a delegation of teachers to the Capitol each day in support of the walkout and to lobby the lawmakers. Governor Mary Fallin signed the tax bill into law on Thursday, March 29th.

Lobbying Lawmakers: April 2, Walkout Day 1, 5.9 miles

Just as the politicians had anticipated (I suspect) – chaos ensued. We did indeed go to the Capitol on April 2. I don’t know how many Konawa teachers were present, but I counted over a dozen. This was the largest crowd at the State Capitol I had ever seen. Turns out that most of us weren’t saying “Thank you” after all. My goal that day was to lobby my representatives, so I met with Representative Taylor and Senator McCortney to discuss the need for restoring the funding cuts to education and other core state services that had been made over the last two decades. Both of them were gracious hosts and listened to our concerns, sharing ideas that they think would be possible in the current legislative session and explaining why other actions were either unlikely or impossible at this time.

While I may not agree with the Rep. Taylor or Sen. McCortney on views or solutions, I have to say that both of these gentlemen appear to be genuinely good people who are diligently trying to represent their electorate. My talking points were:

• I asked them to take actions that support public education.
• I mentioned ALEC (the American Legislative Exchange Counsel) to each of them and asked that they resist the Sirens’ call of out-of-state billionaires.
• I reminded each of them that this walkout was about much more than teacher pay – it’s about undoing the cuts to core state services over the last two decades. And,
• I said “Thank you” for hearing our concerns and considering our point of view.

I’m glad we don’t live in a country where citizens who question authority wind up in prison or missing. All of us need to spend more time learning about the issues that our government is grappling with, having discussions with our peers about where we stand, writing letters, making phone calls, and making our concerns known. It’s easy to make excuses about not voting or participating and then complaining about what happens. Easy, but not smart.

Power to the People: April 3, Walkout Day 2, 6.3 miles

We arrived early on the second day of the Walkout and could have made our way into the Capitol very quickly. I encouraged the teachers who rode with me to go on in if they wished, but I decided to let others go in my place and lobby for the public education cause. I had some work to do outside.

The Capitol building quickly reached its safe occupancy level and a one-in, one-out rule was soon enforced by Capitol security. The lines were literally overlapping with people trying to get inside. My mission of the day was to talk to as many people as I could about the ALEC, so I walked around with my sign smiling at people as I went around these long lines of hopeful lobbyists and watched their expression. A few people read my sign and gave me a nod or a thumbs up – very few. If I saw that familiar puzzled look, I’d ask they had heard of ALEC. I’m going to estimate that 98% of the people I talked to said “No.” My next question was, “Do you mind if I take a moment to tell your about the American Legislative Exchange Council?” As near as I remember everyone I asked agreed.

So I explained that ALEC is America’s largest voluntary membership organization of state legislators dedicated to the principles of limited government and free markets. In other (more honest) words: ALEC provides ‘model bills’ to change our rights that often benefit the corporations’ bottom line at public expense. That it has been around for nearly fifty years, has been incredibly successful at promoting it’s agenda of privatization of public services, is financed and led by large corporations, promotes the goal of privatizing public education, holds closed door meetings with legislators, and that practically no one knows that they exist. I explained how they hand out template bills that our state legislators then “author” or “sponsor” by simply filling in the blanks. Thus the Koch brothers take control of the destiny of our state governments and the direction of our country while we go on blissfully unaware. Then I waited to see if they had any response or question.

I had a number of stories available if further discussion was warranted — about bills that seem crazy until you see the hidden ALEC agenda: The motivation behind the 10 Commandments Monument controversy, Tom Newell’s bill to restrict districts from deducting professional organization dues from teachers’ checks, and ALEC bills affecting Americans’ Rights to a Public Education. My main point for anyone who wanted to talk was that when you see a systemic failure (Oklahoma Core Services), you cannot just treat the symptoms. You have to identify and eliminate the root cause. I firmly believe that the root cause of the failure of funding for public education is ALEC.

Meanwhile, Gov. Fallin signs $2.9 billion appropriations bill for common education in 2019 (HB 3705).

Homework: April 4, Walk-In Day 1, Walkout Day 3, 2.1 miles

This civil disobedience stuff is hard work. So on Day 3, I was back at school. It turns out I didn’t find any rest there, because I decided to stage a Walk-In. I warned my building principals first, but before school and between classes I roamed the halls with my ALEC sign asking students and teachers if they knew about these billionaire influence buyers and the impact they have had on our lives.  I’ve made a point during my career to avoid off topic discussions in my classrooms such as politics. If I have a goal in this regard, it’s to encourage students to research and decide for themselves what position to take on moral and political issues. Some teachers preach their opinion as though it were scripture. I’ve never wanted to be like that, preferring to discuss the application of sines and cosines than to go off on a tangent. On this day, however, I did discuss the stealth and success of ALEC bills and encouraged my students to discover for themselves what is going in state government. We discussed the goals of the teacher walkout.

And I talked with my colleagues as time allowed about the efforts of the Walk Out. One of the goals (of our local decision to resume classes and send a delegation to the Capitol) was that we wanted as many teachers as possible to have an opportunity to participate. We didn’t want to send the same people everyday. Besides, we haven’t cancelled classes in Konawa and I had students that I wanted to see and new lessons to prepare. And, honestly, I’m old and needed a little rest.

Our advocates were stirred up and wanted to close the school again while others wanted to just get this year over. I empathized with both sides, especially since I’m retiring in a few weeks. I spent the day talking to as many teachers as I could to get a consensus of what they wanted to do. It’s a logistical nightmare to be in the middle of plotting a course for a large and diverse group of people in a few minutes between classes. What we came up with was a shared Google Sheet listing those from each building who would be on our delegation. We developed a plan where the teachers who wanted to go would contact their principal for approval (considering the ongoing state testing and class coverage) and then the secretaries would add names to the list.  I bought a new pair of shoes and signed up to go back to the Capitol the next day.

In the news on Day 3 was Representative Kevin Dugle earning his fifteen minutes of fame by ranting on FaceBook Live about the terrible behavior of teachers in the gallery and stating that he’s never going to vote for “another stinking’ measure on education funding”. He and Governor Fallin both complained about outside groups joining the protest at the the Capitol. Tulsa teachers begin the March for Education, walking from Webster High School to the Capitol. HB 1019xx on Amazon third-party sales passes in the House.

Adult Supervision: April 5, Walkout Day 4, 9.2 miles

On Day 4, I’m back at the Capitol with a new mission to lobby with the OEA (of which I’ve been a member since 1979). What will it take to end the walkout? There doesn’t seem to be any real conversation between the groups that represent teachers: the Oklahoma Education Association, the Professional Oklahoma Educators, the American Federation of Teachers. Additionally, no one is talking about the OPEA (Oklahoma Public Employees Association). They joined our walkout lending it considerable credibility and funding core state services was part of the OEA demands. I’ve seen and talked to a considerable number of state workers in the walkout, but their cause seems to be on a back burner.

In each of my conversations, what I wanted to know is

• Why aren’t the teacher organizations talking to each other and setting an endgame strategy?
• What, specifically are we asking for now?
• Which legislators are you bargaining with and are we willing to reach a compromise?
• Why aren’t we talking about OPEA?

What I heard from the officials was

• Yes, we should be talking but the other side won’t even look at me when I pass them in a room.
• We want the legislature to fill in the hole they created by repealing the hotel/motel tax.
• Our loudest members don’t want to compromise and the legislature is claiming that they have don’t all that they can do this year.
• State employees aren’t our focus, they are making their own case.

Just like my Representative and Senator, I’m sure these are all nice people and all, but I don’t really care for what I’m hearing. I’d be more hopeful if I saw signs of more preparation, more strategy, more effective communication, and more diplomacy. After talking to the legislators and my professional representatives, I think we need an adult in the room.

Back in the national news, Governor Fallin, who never seems to miss an opportunity to say something, well… stupid, compares teachers in the walkout to “a teenage kid that wants a better car.”

I don’t know how anyone estimates such things as the size of a crowd, but it seemed to me that participation in this walkout was growing with each passing day. The House and Senate galleries were packed, lines were formed at most legislator offices, the rotunda was crowded, and the picket line marching around the Capitol seemed to be growing each day.

The Home Front: April 6, Walkout Day 5, 2.5 miles

Letting other Konawa teachers have a turn at being on the delegation, I found that tensions back at school were high. I tried to be the facilitator by talking with as many teachers as I could and then moving the discussion to the administration. There was some confusion as to whether or not teachers who are out of school as a delegate will be charged for a personal day (they would not) and questions about when days missed would be made up (depends upon how many days are included) or whether parents would have time to make arrangements for the children’s care if we closed school on Monday (parents would have an easier time making arrangements for child care over the weekend ). So, we conducted another poll where question was simply is it time to reassess our position?

After making our best effort to see that everyone who wanted to had a chance to respond, the results showed a majority in favor of another poll. So that’s what we did, simply asking “should we close the school?” with the result of 17 “Yes” votes and 18 “No” votes. Admittedly, it was done in a hurry and under less than ideal circumstances, but the majority ruled and school remained open. In their wisdom, our administration recognized that there were many who felt compelled to be at the Capitol. They decided to let teachers go who wanted to go so long as we could conduct school and other activities safely with those who remained. Yes, it was a compromise — democracy in action. A potential lesson for our elected officials on how things are supposed to work.

The Amazon third-party sales tax bill (HB 1019xx) and the “ball and dice” bill (HB 3375) pass the Senate and they also repealed the tax on hotels and motels.

Laying Down the Law: April 9th, Walkout Day 6, 6.1 miles

Monday, April 9th, was to be a big day for the Oklahoma Teacher Walkout. We had heard that there would be significant legislation discussed: things like asking Gov. Fallin to veto the repeal of the hotel/motel tax, a repeal of the capital gains exemption, and news that about 200 Girl Attorneys (Women in Black) had made appointments with lawmakers and would be marching in from the Oklahoma Bar Association today. That last item was very inspiring. We needed something to inject some hope into the movement. Fumes of fatigue and despair were creeping from out of the cracks in our State Capitol. The idea of lawyers being on the side of the common good is just plain giddy.

The night before (Sunday evening), Linda hit me with an idea for a picket sign that I immediately felt was beyond my capabilities, but I took a deep breath and gave it my best shot. The result was our best picket sign of the campaign:

The crowd on Monday was the largest of the walkout. I didn’t go inside that day because it was packed, but as I made my laps and talked it up outside there was a greater enthusiasm and sense of unity than on any day before. About 1,500 teachers, parents, and students were marching in from Mid-Del.

Senators Brecheen and Dahm are talking up the elimination of tax credits on wind energy production as a way to “raise money” for education. Betsy DeVos said that Oklahoma teachers should “keep adult disagreements and disputes in a separate place.” I couldn’t agree more: that’s why we are at the Capitol.

Tulsa Arrives: April 10th, Walkout Day 7, 1.8 miles

Tuesday concluded the March for Education. Tulsa teachers who had walked the entire 110 mile journey down Route 66 to the Oklahoma Capitol arrived on Tuesday. Linda and some of our friends were there to greet them. I was back at school. Business as usual. Good grief.

Meanwhile, the House voted down ending the Capital Gains Exemption, Governor Fallin signed the “ball and dice”, the Amazon third-party tax bill,  and repealed the hotel/motel tax.

Field Trip: April 11th, Walkout Day 8, 8.5 miles

Two of my son’s friends stayed over the night before, making picket signs, so that they could leave at 6:00 am with me on a “Civics Field Trip” to the State Capitol. The three boys and I were joined by our band director, Ashley, for hands-on Problems of Democracy project.

We revisited Representative Taylor and Senator McCortney to ask them about current efforts of funding for common education. Both indicated that ending the capital gains exemption was a non-starter for this session and that the idea of a 3% hotel/motel tax could never muster the support to pass. The idea of cutting back the exemption on wind energy production had a better chance of being considered. We thanked them for their time. As mentioned previously, regardless of our differences in position, I like these guys.

It seems that all of the power required to fund education at this time rested in one man’s hands: Representative Charles McCall from Atoka, the Speaker of the House. Without his will, nothing was going to move. So we just marched ourselves over to his office on the fifth floor. That’s where we got the lesson that the serfs should never dare to seek audience with the Lord of the Realm. The attractive and somewhat polite secretarial corp are charged with buffering His Lordship from the commoners and are quite practiced at the task. In case of trouble, there’s Sargent At Arms and Capitol Security aplenty within earshot. I watch Lord McCall holding court with a Lady constituent and her progeny, posing for several portraits and dispensing pats upon the head, but as he approached our position across from His Lordship’s office door, we garnered nary a gaze – neither a wink or a nod fell to those insignificant personages behind the broad secretarial backs. Humbled, we cast ourselves back to the streets below, where the good people were.

The OEA hints at capitulation today, pointing out that 95 percent of its goal has been met. And in the basement of the Capitol, a record number of people begin filing to run for state offices. Several large school districts (including Bartlesville, McAlester, and Sand Springs) vote to resume classes on April 12.

Moore Public School Board announced that classes would resume on Thursday, April 12. Just in case, they called over 300 substitute teachers.

OEA Calls It A Win: April 12, Walkout Day 9, 6 miles

On Thursday, April 12, I went back to school because we had administrators scheduled to participate in the walkout. My wife, Linda, was attending again with some Konawa teachers and I felt like I needed to be at school. But when I arrived at school I discovered that our administrators were not going to go after all, so I did. A sense of great relief filled me as I made the long drive to Oklahoma City. I needed be there. It felt more than right, it felt like an honor to be with this group of educators, walking out to say that we’ve had enough of your austerity, your self-imposed economic catastrophe, your disparagement of public servants, your stalling and self-righteous excuse making. Enough.

And for this one day of the Walkout, I arrived late. I had neither snacks or sunblock, but I felt compelled to go more than on any other day. The walkout was beginning to falter, our goals were unclear, time was turning a page on our opportunity to make a change.

My wife and I sat on a corner of the sidewalks, southwest of the South Entrance. Our chairs were upon the Great State Seal, roped off from the pedestrian traffic, in the shade of an oak. A gust of wind caught a nearby canopy and whacked me on the head with it. No harm done. We made new friends, greeted acquaintances from the last two weeks, were graced with a visits by candidates and protestors, watch creative picket signs go by. We were thrilled by the arrival of Walkout rebels from Moore. It was a long line. I had hoped that the very last picket sign would say, “No Moore”, but alas, I was disappointed.

On the way home, Linda and I stopped to eat at Cracker Barrel. That has to be symbolic of something. While waiting for our meal, I got an alert on my phone that OEA had a announced a press conference. We watched live as Alicia Priest called the walkout. She said it was time to face the reality that inspite of tens of thousands of teachers walking out and lobbying relentlessly for nine days, the legislature wasn’t going budge. She cited the poll I took, saying that 77% of the membership of OEA doubted a continuation of the walkout would result in more funding. And she reviewed the $400 million in new spending and teacher pay (approved before the walkout), and $50 million from two other funding measures, calling the walkout a win. I agreed and frankly, I was relieved.

Meanwhile, Tom Coburn, the tax cut king, has a petition referendum to reverse legislation that funded teacher raises. Devon Energy announced that it would layoff about 9% of its staff to boost returns.

The Fallout

It was raining on Friday the 13th. The OEA called it quits, but plenty of teachers were mad and felt betrayed by their announcement. Alberto Morejon requested that every school send a representative to the Stillwater tent south of the Capitol to help decide what to do next. “Remember that we teachers are the voice that started this movement, and we are the voice that ends it.” I was going to go. I was… but my truck was in the repair shop and it rained that day ruling out going on my motorcycle. I had posted a comment on Alberto’s FaceBook page to tell him that the political event was one of an irresistible force meeting an immovable object, that this was just the first battle in a greater war, and most of all, that he doesn’t need to fight the OEA — he needs to join it. He needs to rise to leadership in the OEA. Once you descend into teachers fighting with teachers, you’re done. I don’t want any part of that.

Come to think of it, why do we have all these splinter groups? The American Federation of Teachers, the Professional Oklahoma Educators, the Oklahoma Association for the Education of Young Children, or the Oklahoma Association for Career and Technology? There’s no strength in that. They have divided and conquered us before we’ve even started. We need one large and powerful organization to represent public education. The OEA is member driven: if you don’t like something the OEA is doing (or the NEA) then get involved, join them, write them, call them, go make an appointment and talk to them, run for an OEA office. Don’t drop out and then complain. That’s not powerful, that’s defeatist. Even as I write this, two weeks later, there are still a few teachers at the Capitol.

So how successful were we? Some claim success, after all, we saw a raise in teacher and support staff pay, a record number of filings for state office were made, parents and business showed their support for the cause of public education. Others say it was a calamity. All of the significant legislation was passed before the walkout began. We’ve descended into chaos.

So Now What?

The success of a democracy depends upon its citizens becoming informed and engaged. That’s what education does: if done right, it helps your kids become better citizens. This walkout was a giant, impromptu lesson on democracy. People who haven’t thought about the problem of education funding are thinking about it now. People who didn’t know much about state government now know more. Kids saw their teachers and parents modeling what participatory government is all about. Apathy lost this battle.

The politicians witnessed public opinion rise up against their austerity war on public service, on core state service. Maybe, just maybe, some of them are rethinking their position on education, on funding core services. Citizens are more engaged in their kids public school and more empathetic to the struggles that public education faces. Students are more aware and involved than I have seen since the 1960’s. That’s good, we need them. Frankly, my generation has screwed up. We’ve dropped the ball on public service, on the environment, on diplomacy, and on caring in general. It’s going to take all of us to fix this.

On Balsa Wings

(Photo: Chip Somodevilla, Getty Images)

Emma Gonzalez is my new hero and I’ll tell you why. She’s an eighteen year-old student from Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida, where a troubled youth with access to assault weapons shot thirty-four students and teachers, killing half of them. It’s how Emma chose to react that make her a hero. She got mad and then, she got busy. There are other students no less heroic (David Hogg, Cameron Kasky, Delaney Tarr, Jaclyn Corin, Alex Wind, and more), all cast as a “belligerent band of media hyped know-nothings” by Kevin McCullough in Townhall. But these kids saw that the adults in charge were not going to do anything to prevent the next school shooting and decided that they were just going to have to fix it themselves. Regardless of the costs.

Emma has become the primary target of wrath resulting from their courage. Her mother, Beth Gonzalez, said this about Emma’s activism: “I’m terrified. It’s like she built herself a pair of wings out of balsa wood and duct tape and jumped off a building. And we’re just, like, running along beneath her with a net, which she doesn’t want or think that she needs.” Sometimes you just have to go with what you’ve got. Coming up against an assault rifle is a motivator for action. Since Emma was born, there have been over 200 school shootings in the US, killing more than 265 and inujuring more than 370. In that same time period there have been more laws passed to enable shootings than their have been to prevent them. Many states have passed laws to provide consealed carry license, open carry license, or even carrying with no permit at all. Some states have passed laws allow possession of a firearm in schools. After the Parkland shooting, all the talk amoung law makers centers on throwing more guns into the mix, not fewer. They want to arm teachers and harden school campuses. They ridicule the “Gun Free Zone” signs at the school door.

Thoughts and prayers. That’s all the reaction that main stream politicians offered to prevent the next shooting. Others, however, could smell blood.

Leslie Gibson, who was the only declared candidate to represent the 57th District in Maine’s House of Representatives, Tweeted “There is nothing about this skinhead lesbian that impresses me and there is nothing that she has to say unless you’re a frothing at the mouth moonbat.” Shortly after this Tweet (now deleted), Gibson dropped out of the race.

Fox News, of course, explained the actions of Emma and her fellow students saying, “they have been brainwashed by government-funded indoctrination camps – pardon me – public schools.”

Fox labels anyone who supports the Florida students as Hollywood types, famous and wealthy, the NRA discribed the protests this way: “Gun-hating billionaires and Hollywood elites are manipulating and exploiting children as part of their plan to DESTROY the Second Amendment and strip us of our right to defend ourselves and our loved ones.” I would expect nothing less from the money-strapped, benevolent NRA. Fox points out that the March for Our Lives organization registered as a 501 (c)(4) to “keep private the names of donors”. Hmmm, just like the NRA general fund?

How about the alt-right? Their version of Twitter, Gab, faked a video of Emma. Substituting the traget practice paper she was tearing in half with an image of the US Constitution, only to later declare the faked propaganda as “satire”. They hate her because she is defiant, because she it bisexual, because she is Cuban, because she shaved her head, because she is open about who she is, but mostly she’s hated because she doing something. She’s standing up, questioning their beliefs. She’s demanding change. She’s calling BS on leadership.

So square in the middle of a sea of support and an ocean of opposition there is Emma on balsa wings, listing the names of students and staff who would “never”, then standing in silence for six and a half minutes before a Washington DC crowd estimated to be over a million, representing the amount of time Nikolas Cruz used to gun down his victims. Shedding tears but standing strong. Defiant. I put her on my hero list with Ricky John Best, Taliesin Myrddin Namkai Meche, Aaron Feis, Scott Beigel and a host of others who’ve given everything for others. God bless them — there’s no greater love.

Reflections on a Career

Why on Earth would anyone use dog as a derogatory?

Minnie, our current companion

The soul of a dog is pure. When I was in Kindergarten, my teacher gave me a Cocker Spaniel puppy. I suspect this was not a reward for being good student, but a case of having a litter of puppies that desperately needed homes. I named my dog and, for a while, drew her close to my heart. She was a perfect companion – followed me everywhere, never bored with what I was doing, craved my affection. I was fully aware of how much my touch, my time, and my attention meant to her. Slowly, as is often the case, my interests drifted elsewhere and I spent less and less time with my dog. I fed her and gave her the occasional bath and vaccinations, but invested a dismal few hours in her companionship. I neglected my dog. She grew old and lonely.

Years later, when gray hair appeared on her snout and her movements showed signs of age, I remember looking at my old pet, laboriously wagging her tail, and thinking how I wished she would just die, that I wanted a new dog. The next day she died. Guilt hit me like a hammer. There was no doubt in my mind that God had just delivered to me a lesson in life.

Dogs are the loyal to a fault. They are obedient and willing to do anything to please their masters. They are eager to learn. It is truly amazing what dogs can learn to do from a diligent and patient owner. Being pack animals, they want to belong and they love unconditionally. A dog will bond with a human as readily as it would with others dogs and they crave affection. And trust… where can you find that magnitude of trust anywhere else in life? Dogs are naturally affectionate. If a dog is aggressive or dangerous, it is because a human has trained them to behave that way. To be given a dog is to be entrusted with a grave responsibility.

Thanks to social and news media, I’ve seen people who seem to be confused about the relationship between masters and pets – people that seem to think that their pets are their children. I tend to think that they have endowed their pets with an inappropriate sanctity, reserved only for another human, but it’s just as likely that I am only blinded and calloused by my ego. The responsibility you owe to your pet is a training ground for life…

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It’s time for me to retire. This year I’m embracing the task of wrapping up my career of thirty-eight years as a teacher and I don’t want to miss anything. I yearn to let it all soak in and savor the experiences during this last opportunity of teaching. It’s time for me to reflect on the lessons I’ve learned, the experiences I’ve shared, and the blessings that have been bestowed upon me as I’ve struggle to learn how to be a teacher. Above all, I am humbled that such an awesome responsibility has been entrusted to me for such a long period of time.

Public school teachers in America are understandably tempted to complain about their compensation, the lack of respect teachers receive, the hateful attitude of politicians and privateers, the erosion of the family, the lack of resources schools face today, and the apathy of their students. In the present political climate, it seems that public school teachers have been targeted as a symbol of what’s wrong with America. We have been villainized and disparaged at every opportunity. Plumbers aren’t treated that way. You don’t see news stories about the slothfulness and misbehavior of engineers or retail clerks. Everyone has gone to school in America, at least for a while, so it seems that everyone considers themselves to be experts on education. Yet, fellow teachers, we knew all of that when we decided to become teachers. We did it anyway and some of us determined to stay in the profession, even when offered other opportunities.

What we miss, if distracted by those problems, is the good stuff. We have been entrusted with the care of children. We have been given the opportunity to try and help them to improve their lot in life: to learn how to learn. Teachers endeavor to empower their students, not just to survive, but to thrive. In the best of times we witness the spark of curiosity, the leverage of skepticism, the energy of diligence, and the wonder of awareness. Those moments are not ubiquitous or automatic – watch for them, make note of them, savor them.

A pivotal moment in my path toward the career of teaching came in a conversation critiquing my own public school experience as a student. At the time I had already graduated from college and was working in the real world. Complaining to my sister, a teacher, about the many faults that my own high school teachers had possessed, she challenged me. She said, “Maybe you should be a teacher. Then you can do a better job than they did.” Like a sucker, I took the bait. I went back to college taking more education courses, earning a teaching certificate, and eventually a master’s degree. The night before my first day as a professional teacher I had nightmares. All my doubts manifested themselves as monstrous criminals exposing my ignorance and threatening my safety. During my young adult years I had put myself in some genuinely stupid and dangerous situations from which I emerged intact, but here I was, afraid of some kids who turned out to be great people. Looking back on that conversation with my sister, let me just say I’ve gained a great deal of appreciation for the teachers of my alma mater. I don’t think I’ve come close to the talents, professionalism, or dedication that they each possessed.

W.W. Samuell High School, Dallas, Texas

I’ve really dropped the ball many times. For most of us, it takes a lot of painful lessons to become a teacher of any quality. There are so many things to overcome: your ego, your lack of patience, your ignorance, your anger, your laziness, your lack of compassion, your intolerant attitudes — this list could go on forever. Teaching is not for everyone. It’s not the right career for many that have been in it for years. It’s not the right career for anyone whose ambitions are dubious. There were many, many times when it was not the right career for me, yet I always aspired to become a better teacher. My wife, herself a veteran teacher, once told me that the difference between us was that I taught mathematics while she taught children. You can easily replace the word “taught” with the word “love”. That is key. If you are to become a teacher, you have to grow beyond the mere love of your subject. An essential skill for a teacher is to learn to care for your students.

A wise person once told me that if you really want to learn something, try teaching it to someone else. I had earned, barely, a degree in mathematics. From childhood, I had always been drawn to mathematics. Math was, to me, pure and unquestionable. It was the pinnacle of human achievement, beautiful and endless. As a rather inept college student, mathematics retained that loftiness, but it also became out of my reach, seemingly unattainable. Yet I persisted, despite failings and doubt, eventually obtaining that degree – a piece of paper that had questionable meaning or value, but I knew it represented something. It was a commitment that, once chosen, had to be obtained.

The mantra, “if you don’t use it, you lose it” was always on my mind as I worked for years in jobs that didn’t require or often apply my degree in mathematics. But once I stood at the chalkboard (yes, it’s been that long ago), I realized that I didn’t know anything at all about teaching mathematics. The teacher has to not only have competency in their subject matter, but also become an educator, psychologist, cheerleader, and a magician. The kids question, “When am I ever going to use this?” And you think, “Are you serious? That’s like: when are you ever going to use oxygen? Just because you don’t see it or think about it doesn’t mean it isn’t essential.” But that’s not the way kids think. Most are expending more energy working to get out of doing something than the energy it would take to get it done. As a teacher, you are trying to provide them with another tool for success and survival and they are questioning your sanity. The teacher has to launch a public relations campaign to sell students on the idea that mathematics is useful. Really?

But onward through the fog:

It’s not about you

Many of the suggestions I needed so desperately as a beginning teacher were offered to me right at the beginning, I just didn’t understand. My first superintendent made a point at every single staff meeting to remind us that the goal of all our efforts was to serve our students. He reminded us that the school wasn’t there to provide us with a job, it was to give our students an education, prepare them, equip them, guide them, support them, help them. During my career I’ve lost count of the number of superintendents I’ve served under, but none of the others ever made this point. It’s basic human nature to focus on your survival. We all need to earn a living, pay the bills, and keep our sanity. Teaching may not be the right choice for achieving those goals any more than the ministry is, or the Peace Corp, or Unicef. If you aren’t driven to serve, to give up personal ambitions, then it would be better for everyone if you considered other ways to earn a living.

And this humility aspect, this commitment to service of others, doesn’t stop with just your career choice: it’s pervasive. You have to combat ego at every turn. You nature will tempt you to react in ways that are counterproductive in the classroom. You will think that a student’s behavior is about you when it’s not. You will think that you how are being judged, and you are, when that can’t be a factor in determining your reactions. It’s an impossible task. I fail at it everyday, but that doesn’t mean it’s not important – that it’s not essential.

It’s not a job

I took lot’s of teacher education courses in college. In the first day of a basic course, the instructor asked everyone to introduce themselves and to explain why they had decided to become a teacher. I remember one young lady, who was probably a very fine person, said something like, “My husband is a coach but doesn’t make enough money for our family to be able to get by, so I decided to become an elementary school teacher because it’s probably the best job that I can get around here.” That seemed to make perfect sense to everyone in the course, including the instructor, but I was appalled. I couldn’t think of a worse reason to enter into the profession. In truth, her words probably impacted me so strongly because there was an element of the same reasoning in my own career choice. Yet it was obvious to me that this was a recipe for disaster. I wanted to plead with the lady to look around and find a better job.

Once more, it’s not about you – it’s about the students. If you aren’t driven, determined, fanatically dedicated to helping those kids, then don’t. The pay stinks. Hardly anyone is going to respect you as a teacher. There is no upward mobility in the teaching career. Please face that right at the start: becoming an administrator, moving to the State Department of Education… whatever, those are all moves out of the teaching profession. They are all managers or bureaucrats. In my experience, most of them disdain teachers, considering us a necessary evil. There are considerable efforts afoot to replace teachers with online courses. You have to put all that aside so that you can focus on your real task.

Don’t be dominated from above

There are going to be demands for you to conform. Beware.

There are standards: read them, consider them, try them, but don’t blindly adopt them. If you feel in your heart that there is something important to teach, then teach it – even it is not in the standards. Those people who wrote the standards are not really the sages we assume they are. They are just other teachers who are also struggling, making decisions, hoping for the best. Sometimes they aren’t even teachers. They may be lobbyists. There agenda may not be yours. Consider their efforts, but don’t blindly adopt them.

There are mandated tests: these are not your friends. They come from above with the pretense of reform. That is a code word. Today it means “deconstruct”, “undermine”, and “eliminate.” Sure, there is a pretense of accountability. Sure, there really are teachers out there who do a crap job and should be weeded out. Tests are not getting rid of incompetent and ineffective teachers any more than a war will win the peace. Principals will come to you with test preparation books. Give them a read, then put them in a drawer somewhere and forget about them. There has never been a standardized test that helped a student learn or succeed.  Your principal may evaluate you by how well your kids do on standardized test. So what? That doesn’t have a single thing to do with you or your students. Embrace the task that’s important, do what really works for you and those kids in your room. If you get fired, it is probably a blessing. Move on. There are other ways to serve.

There are veteran teachers, department heads: listen to them, be polite. Then go back to your classroom and follow your heart. Keep listening and considering, weighing their opinions, but don’t submit with docility. Sadly, some folks have an issue with control and their own dominance. The act of surviving doesn’t confere wisdom or righteousness.

Listen to your students

This is harder than you might think. Even if you hear them, you may not be getting it. They’re words will sound like judgements, threats, distractions, gossip, idle conversation, or insanity. When I’m in the classroom, there is always something I want everyone to be focused on. I’m compelled, by my nature, to want to insist upon that focus. There is this assumption that classroom teachers have to control their environment. We have to establish this safe place where learning can occur. You know you have to get your bluff in and that classroom management is the key to survival. Don’t let these thoughts turn you into a ruthless dictator – it won’t end well. All the time there are little hints about what is really going with those kids. They are trying to tell you what you need to know in order to effectively help them. But, I’m telling you – this is hard. Nothing ever prepared me to listen to these kids. Take a minute before you react. Try to understand what that kid just said. There is always a chance that it might open a door to understanding what it really going on. A peek inside that door might just keep you from doing something stupid and closing other doors forever. When a student says, “I don’t care” they may really mean “My parents had a fight last night and my dad left.”

Pray

I drove a school bus for ten years. There were some very interesting experiences during that decade. My route crossed a busy (and dangerous) four-lane divided highway and a railroad track, so I made ran that gauntlet four times every day — that adds up to about 7000 times. This was back before cell phones and my district didn’t have radios, so if something happened, you were pretty much on your own. It was all rural gravel roads, ditches, rain and snow. My gas tank fell off one day. A tie rod broke once and the left wheel turned left while the right wheel turned right. An airplane crashed on my route. I came up to a creek crossing early one morning while it was still dark and discovered that the bridge was totally gone, burned up the evening before.

One very foggy morning, I came up to the railroad crossing and realized I couldn’t see even 100 feet. This was a crossing on a gravel road that only had a sign – not enough traffic to warrant warning lights or a gate. I had really good kids on my route and when I told them to be quiet, they were. Perfectly quiet. The fog was so thick that I turned off the engine and opened my door, listening for a train. There was nothing. So I told the kids that I could not see or hear anything and I was going to start the engine and cross as quickly as possible. And that’s what we did. The engine started immediately and we bolted across the tracks. We hadn’t gotten ten feet across when a train horn blew. This train had to be going fifty miles an hour. My heart stopped and I can imagine that the kids in the back all peed their pants. I turned off the bus again and it had to of been ten or fifteen minutes before I recovered sufficiently to make the rest of the trip to school. The railroad crossing at this little town had claimed many lives over the years. The highway crossing has claimed far more.

At no point in my life have I ever been so diligent in prayer. I prayed before my route each morning asking for the safety of my charges. I thanked God after the route for our safe return. I went to my bus early just to have time to pray. There is no doubt in my mind that God watched over that bus and blessed those children. I could write a book just about the things I experienced on that route. My bus driving salary was $500 per year. The route took nearly an hour every trip, I had to wash the bus and take it for oil changes. It was our Christmas money. If you don’t think praying will help you in the classroom, try it anyway.

If you assign it, read and react to it

Sometimes I wonder why I give writing assignments. Am I punishing myself? Kids think it’s so mean to ask them to write three paragraphs. They have no idea how long it takes to read all those paragraphs, mark grammatical and spelling errors (hey kids – use spell check!), mark run on sentences, and make suggestions for a clearer meaning. But it doesn’t seem to take long before they realize that you are interested in what they have to say. That awareness seems to diminish their plagiarism and encourage their thinking. The quality of their work and the level of their research both improve it you read and react to their work. You also get to know them and they are very interesting people. There’s a lot to learn from our students.

Most of my career was teaching mathematics. I assigned problems and tried my best to use the student’s work to determine their level of understanding and to guide them by using corrections and comments on their papers. This requires an enormous amount of time and it seems they usually don’t even look at your marks. My mantra was “Show your work!” To this day I have no use for an assignment where the student just writes an answer. I know I’m old school, but I believe a calculator should only be used on problems where the student has clearly demonstrated an understanding and proven their competency of all the mechanics of reaching that result. A calculator is appropriate for the time consuming minutia that you know they have already mastered, when they are working a bigger problem where understanding and problem solving skills are over and above the calculations. I think they should able to plot a sinusoid with pencil and graph paper before using the graphing calculator. Sure, use the calculator to find the values of points you’re going to plot (the days of books of tables, slide rules, and interpolation are over) but have the skills to plot the points and connect the dots.

Even if most of my efforts were ignored when I attempted to encourage skill building by pointing out where the student went wrong on their homework problems, I still believe it was good to insist that they showed the steps that explain their thoughts in getting from the problem to the answer. Encourage them to think and to explain, to justify and illustrate. And then be sure to demonstrate that you have seen that work, reacted to it, and valued it. It’s hard and time consuming. If you feel like you’re killing yourself, consider making fewer and shorter assignments.

It’s not a train

There is always this list of things that you assume you have to cover durind your course. The list might come from those hallowed standards, or they might be the chapters in the book, or they might be on the test, or maybe you just really think the list contains the essential elements of the subject. We want to keep going, not get bogged down. The clock is ticking and there is only so much time to get it all done. The train is on a track and if you get derailed, then all hell breaks loose.

Well, the classroom is not a train. You may be headed the wrong way. The passengers are not in boxcars on the way to the concentration camp: they may be jumping off the passenger cars and escaping into the woods. Sometimes I have justified my dogged insistence to keep moving by thinking to myself that mastery has to be balanced with exposure. All the while I know that if no one is getting it, there is no sense in forging ahead. You tend to think the only possible way of progressing is keeping everyone together: you can’t wait for every student to demonstrate mastery if the rest of the class is ready to move ahead. Differentiated instruction sounds so much harder to plan for and manage than what you already can’t keep up with. Individualized instruction would be great if you only had three of four kids at a time. In my last year as a teacher, I have to confess that I’ve never really figured this out. Yet I have never given up. I am still fighting the good fight to overcome obstacles and considering methods. My takeaway is just chill. It’s going to be okay. You don’t have to expect the same results from every kid. Blend your class with lots of kinds of assignments and projects. There will be something that works in the mix. Spend more time with the kid who’s struggling and have something ready for that kid who’s already finished that they can do on their own. Everything doesn’t have to be assigned or turned in. Sometimes it is enough just to challenge.

I’m not trying to tell you your destination, but I’m just saying that the train is the wrong analogy for the classroom. Find your own analogy. Look around and decide what works.

If they ask if you’re going — then go

When you are a teacher, regardless of grade level or subject, your kids are going to be involved in activities outside of your class. Many times they will be activities that you really have no interest in and certainly don’t have time to attend. But if you are going to be a teacher, you may as well plan on spending a lot of your time just to show that you care about them.

I’m not a sports fan — not a football fan, not a basketball fan, not a baseball fan. Well, okay, maybe a baseball fan. I have a serious issue with competitive sports. They injure our kids needless lessly and permanently. They distract from academics and divert resources. I think of them as extracurricular and believe that no class time, not one minute, should be lost to sports. Trust me, I could rant about this until the cows come home. But… I will wager I have spent more time attending ball games than most ardent sports fans ever thought about doing. And I try to act like I’m interested and having a good time. And that’s because my students (or my own kids) are playing and they are sports fans. Sports is important to them. So, yes, when they say “Are you going to be at the game?” then I’m going to try to be at the game. They will see you there. They see when you aren’t there.

It would be nice if I could say that I have attended all thirty-eight graduation ceremonies, but I can’t say that. I regret that I haven’t. If there was anything I could get a do-over on, I’d pick graduations. That’s the business we are in. I should have gone to them all.

Always present both sides

So many teachers try to tell their kids what to think instead of how to think. They assume that they know, that they are right, and that anyone who disagrees is wrong or maybe even evil. (Thank you very much Rush Limbaugh and Newt Gingrich for villainizing opposing opinions.) I believe that learning the difference between fact and opinion is an important life skill. Let me illustrate with a story:

When I was in college I took a course titled Introduction to Philosophy taught by Harvey Solvanick. He made such an impression on me that I remembered his name. During the course he presented the case for the major schools of philosophy, in a more or less chronological order, as though he were the most devoted adherent. His presentations were so convincing that when he would move to the next school (or belief system), the students were generally appalled. We would stop him and ask, “But wait, what about…” the last set of beliefs that we had all adopted as universal truth. Then he would say something like, “Oh, that all bunk. Here’s the reality… ” and move on. My head was spinning. What a course! It was all new to me and I loved it. And it serves my point here.

Kids will always want to know your position on issues: never tell them. Make them wonder and try to guess where you stand. Don’t tell them what is right: inspire them to seek the truth. Teach them to research. Help them learn to analyze, gather evidence, consider both sides, to realize that there are many sides to any issue. Help students understand that we all make assumptions and that these assumptions predetermine all our beliefs from that point on. Discuss judgements and consider when they are appropriate. Model for your students the value of keeping an open mind. Discuss rhetoric, propaganda, subversion, and simplistic beliefs. They get plenty opinion and self righteousness outside of your classroom — no one is starving for revelation of infinite wisdom.

Forgiveness

After thirty-eight years of opportunities, I actually think I’ve developed a pretty good ability with forgiveness. Granted, I’ve never really had an atrocity committed against my students or myself. If there had been grievous harm done to any of my kids, I honestly don’t know if I could forgive the one who did that. So I’m just thinking here about the small stuff: insults, belittling, accusations, threats, prolonged periods of being regarded as the enemy. I once had a kid step on my toe, literally. I had an ingrown toenail and the pain was so intense that I couldn’t see or breathe. No big deal. I don’t think I even mentioned it to him. I couldn’t talk, anyway. It wasn’t done intentionally and I don’t even remember who it was. There are a million things I can’t even remember. At the time, they hurt. They may make you question your career choice. They may make your blood boil. But it’s all water under the bridge. I don’t think any of that has diminished my enthusiasm for teaching today. I don’t think I’ve been impaired by any of that. Most of the time, it really doesn’t have anything to do with you. It’s just pent up anger that had to go somewhere.

What I can’t forgive is going on outside of the school. I can’t really forgive the politicians who are working so hard today to destroy public education. They are mostly libertarians who believe education should be privatized and public schools closed. Under the banners of “school reform” and “school choice”, they pump millions of dollars into propaganda to convince voters that public education is failing and that public school teachers are, well, basically evil. I’m sure they feel completely justified and righteous. I’m also sure that they have no idea what’s going on in my classroom, but are cutting off funding for my school anyway. They pass silly, spiteful legislation to make it more difficult for a public school teacher just to exist: things like trying to make me write a check to my education association instead of letting the school hold it out of my monthly pay as we have done all my career. They pass legislation imposing student testing and evaluations of schools and teachers, based upon those arbitrary scores, that force teachers to do nothing but “teach the test”. They pass unfunded mandates. They imposed self-inflicted economic downturns or recessions on states by cutting taxes at will and at the same time making raising a tax, or even returning it to a previous level, practically impossible. They run their campaigns on promises of tax cuts with no mention or regard to the services that must be sacrificed with those cuts. The goal is to make everything for profit. They are greedy and want the poor to bear the entire burden of the public good, while the rich and corporations are exempt. I may be able to forgive these politicians someday, but for now I’ll oppose them any way I can.

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Well, that’s it. Thirty-eight years in the classroom. I’ve had some great times, worked with some really nice people, and have been able to get to know thousands of students. I’m sorry about the times I’ve failed you all and apologize if I didn’t listen to you or lost my temper. I tried, I really did. And I want to wish you all the best in the rather spooky looking future. I hope someday we can all realize that we are in this together and are on the same side. Shalom.

Rhetorical Devices #1

Analogies are like balloons: they are fun and sometimes useful, but if you stretch them too far they break.

No, this isn’t my bathtub. Homesthetics.com

Every morning I have to decide – do I take a shower or a bath? A shower seems to be more economical, saving water and time, but a bath is more rewarding, relaxing, and, well, luxurious. Both options solve the same problem equally well and you have to pick one of them. I mean, you can postpone the decision a little while, but there are consequences. You would probably grow weary of either option if it were your only choice. There are circumstances in which one option clearly outweighs the other. For example: if you have just gotten poison ivy all over yourself, then I’d pick the shower, but if I’m tired and can barely stand up or if I’m stressed, then I’ll pick the slow, steamy bath. Sometimes there are certain limitations upon the decision: you can’t drink coffee in a shower, but bath won’t leave you feeling as thoroughly rinsed off as a shower does.

In my poor mind I find myself trying to apply the shower/bath decision analogy to other decisions, such as:

• buying a car (new or used, equipped or stripped, SUV or economy)
• buying shoes (honestly, I only like one kind)
• buying clothes (casual or even more casual, cotton or crappy, BassPro or Cabellas)
• buying a pen (that’s one of the few things I really like to shop for, a good pen)
• choice of entertainment (movie theatre or TV, musical or symphony, concert or buy the album)
• grocery shopping (name brand or generic, local store or box store, butter or margarine)
• picking a career (your passion or pay, locally available or willing to commute)
• charitiable acts (your time or money, your hometown or the story in the news)
• volunteering at church (committee or painting, speaking or working, one time or long term)
• communicating (do you call, email, message, or go visit)
• investing in a relationship (don’t ask me how this works, I don’t know)
• taking a stand on an issue (talk the talk or walk the walk, safe or risky actions)
• deciding on a vacation destination (close by or bucket list)
• deciding where to shop (local, city, mall, online)
• deciding where to live (woods, small town, suburb, urban)
• deciding who to believe
• deciding what to say
• raising children

There are other decisions I have to make daily that bring to mind the shower/bath delimma – mundane decisions like what I drive to work. I have to go to work, so a choice is necessary. I could take the truck, but what does that mean? It’s a gas hog, draging along two tons of steel that I won’t need all day until I drive it home at night. On the other hand, I can sit down, relatively secure in my cage, listening to the radio, and protected from the elements. Or I could take the motorcycle, which saves a little gas but throws caution to the wind.

And yet, I enjoy riding the motorcycle. The truck, in comparison, is boring. The motorcycle exposes you to the elements, forcing you to be a part of the environs that are whisking by with the breeze. You feel temperature changes, smell aromas, sense your constant vulnerability to each distracted driver or wandering animal, and there is that sense of freedom, wanderlust, that is never really a part of truck driving.

Motorcycle is to bath as truck is to shower.

So, how do I draw the analogy of comparing shower/bath to truck/motorcycle? With a waivering, thin line. The truck is the economical choice – despite the gas consumption. My motorcycle is a gas hog compared to most motorcycles. I can get thirty miles per gallon or a little more if I keep the tachometer under 3000 rpm, but I don’t always do that. The truck just gets me to work, gets the commute over with, and there is no joy in it. It’s probably faster to take the truck. I’m a pokey motorcycle rider. I enjoy taking it slow, looking around a bit, stopping if the mood takes me. Sidetracks don’t tempt me in the truck. I’m on autopilot, sometimes I arrive at a habitual destination, like work, when I was really intending to go to a nearby location, like church. The motorcycle is the more rewarding and relaxing ride. I’m always tempted to just skip that last turn to work and follow instead the open road – see where it goes.

You know, if I really wanted to be frugal I could ride a bicycle. No, never mind. It’s over seven miles and half of that is on gravel. And walking? – by the time I got to work it would be time to go home. Let’s just stick to the motorcycle or the truck.

Pop!

Totality

Before
August 19th, 2017

Photo credit: Rick Fienberg / TravelQuest International / Wilderness Travel

I’m in Collinsville, Illinois, visiting my daughter, Sarah, and her family. We’re waiting on the eclipse of the sun coming up on Monday, August 21st. The plan is to head home Monday morning and stop at St. Claire, Missouri, which is in the path of totality. The eclipse should begin there at around 11:48 AM and reach totality by about 1:15 PM. They say the duration of the total eclipse in St. Claire will be 2 minutes and 48 seconds.

This is a once in a lifetime experience for me. I did witness a partial eclipse in Dallas, Texas, back around 1978. Working at the time for a mechanical contractor as a welder and sheet metal mechanic, I used a couple of welding lens to get a good look. But this time we get to see a total eclipse. I hope the weather cooperates. Nobody I know has experienced a total eclipse, so I really don’t know what to expect. You hear all manner of warnings: optometrists expecting a rash of eye damage, schools cancelling classes, other schools keeping the kids indoors, people worrying about their dogs. Lordy, people, I think the dogs are going to be okay.

I am a little worried about people driving down the interstate, though. I hope they don’t cause a lot of crashes by being distracted or carelessly stopping on the side of the road. News reports say it will get as dark as night. I want to have been well off of the road in a parking lot somewhere hours before that happens. We have our solar glasses and I guess we are good to go.

The eclipse doesn’t worry me at all. I’m excited by the astronomical event. After all, it is just “an obscuring of the light from one celestial body by the passage of another between it and the observer or between it and its source of illumination.” The definition also means, and this is why I love words, “a loss of significance, power, or prominence in relation to another person or thing.” When used as a verb it can mean “to obscure or block out (light)” or “deprive (someone or something) of significance, power, or prominence.”

That’s the eclipse I’ve been thinking about, this loss of significance, and it does worry me. And just like the eclipse on Monday, I’m just an observer: we appear to be unable to do anything about it.

There used to be a wonderment about our country and the age in which we live. It’s a special time. I’ve lived to see some of the most significant events of human history: the beginning of space exploration, an explosion of technology, and the country had, I thought, come a long way in overcoming racism and bigotry. For a while, I thought there was a sense of goodness, of optimism, of love and compassion that could change the world. But something has started to block that light out of our lives. We’re being deprived of that optimism. It’s being eclipsed by hate and greed. Maybe it was a foolish hope to begin with. But you know, without that hope, the hope that the world can be a better place, what’s the point? God forbid that we experience the totality of despair.

The man that was elected last November as the president of our country did so on a campaign to “Make America Great Again.” Forgive me, but I’m not seeing it. Maybe we have completely opposing ideas of what greatness means. About who it is great for.

Illinois is the Land of Lincoln. Today, Sarah took me to Alton, the location of the last Lincoln Douglas debate on October 15, 1858. These were real debates, not the moderated media events of rude interruptions that are produced today. Back then, the first speaker was given an hour to establish and justify his position, then the other fellow had ninety minutes to poke holes in that argument and explain his position. Finally, the first debater was allowed thirty minutes for rebuttal.

Their debates were largely about slavery. No doubt they were fiery. The newspapers in Chicago sent stenographers to record every word. These debates were read all over the country. Lincoln published them in a book. I’ve read just enough of the debates to learn that Abraham Lincoln, the Great Emancipator, was blatantly prejudiced. Lincoln said,

“I am not, nor ever have been, in favor of bringing about in any way the social and political equality of the white and black races, that I am not nor ever have been in favor of making voters or jurors of negroes, nor of qualifying them to hold office, nor to intermarry with white people; and I will say in addition to this that there is a physical difference between the white and black races which I believe will forever forbid the two races living together on terms of social and political equality. And in as much as they cannot so live, while they do remain together there must be the position of superior and inferior, and I as much as any other man am in favor of having the superior position assigned to the white race. I say upon this occasion I do not perceive that because the white man is to have the superior position the negro should be denied everything.”

That’s something I didn’t remember from school. But in spite of his feeling of superiority, he despised slavery and without him I don’t know how that would have worked out. But here we are today with white supremacists, neo-nazis, and an alt right that breeds hate, fear, and violence.

Today we visited the Alton Museum of History and Art where I learned about Lewis and Clark, Alexander von Humbolt, Robert Wadlow, and the disappearing architectural history of Alton. What I’ll remember is the story I’d never heard before of journalist and Presbyterian minister Elijah Parrish Lovejoy. I’ll remember how he walked the 1300 miles from Maine to St. Louis, about how his editorials against slavery got his printing press broken and thrown in the Mississippi River three times before he moved across the river to Alton. And I’ll not forgot how, just after setting up his fourth press, the mobs came across the river and murdered him.

Foolish me. I thought we’d gotten past all that. I thought the idea of one human being owning another was abhorrent in our society. Then that thought was eclipsed by a rebel flag stating “The South Shall Rise Again” proudly displayed at a NASCAR race. That’s just great. Again.

And yet, an eclipse, whether astronomical or ethical, that causes such dread and confusion, can also result in a quest for understanding. Men and women determined to solve the mysteries of solar and lunar eclipses have led, in part, to modern astronomy: a body of knowledge vastly better and more useful than the mythologies that were historically used to explain them. So maybe there hope after all. The present blight on our morals may inspire younger generations to find a way to understand what causes men to hate, for nationalism to rise, for fundamentalist to rage, for authoritarians to rule. Maybe the world can become a better place.

After

August 21st

The first thing I have to say is: if you have never been to a total eclipse of the sun, do it. Go. It’s totally worth the cost, inconvenience, whatever. Just go. As I write this we are driving in the worst traffic on the interstate through Missouri that I’ve ever seen. Four hours of stop and go, but who cares? Just go experience that totality. Don’t settle for 60%, or 90%, or 99%. Go to some spot right on the line of totality. We had almost three minutes. Wow.

I’d never even pulled off the road at St. Clair before. It’s a great little town. Go see it. They have a zoo, children’s museum, historical museum, quaint little downtown with all kinds of shops. We went to the Lewis Cafe. It was, I’d guess, a record breaking day for business at the cafe. We got there for a late breakfast after I was being my usual stressed out, grumpy, can’t handle crowds and traffic, self.

Now, they were really packing us in – every table and chair, every room. It was all hands on deck and half of the wait staff were volunteers from a local church just helping out. It took a long time to get our food, in spite of their valiant efforts, but I guess I’ve waited longer. They did get us seated right away and kept the coffee coming. That’s the important thing. The food was good, but what impressed me was how well everyone handled the situation. You met and conversed with the people at your table. The staff were working like a well oiled machine. People waiting for the restroom were efficiently sensible – if the line was women and the men’s room was available, there you go. The national debate over restrooms never came up, folks. Apparently it doesn’t matter.

We emerged from our meal just as the eclipse was starting. Those paper eclipse glasses worked flawlessly. Linda had extra glasses and gave them away. It was amusing to watch how people reacted. It’s like we’re unsure how to handle kindness. She gave some to kids. She gave some to people from Portugal (we think) who said they had ordered eclipse glasses online, but didn’t get them on time. I tried to take pictures with the glasses over my phone’s camera lens, but it didn’t work well. A lady with a glass welder’s lens shared it with Tsegaye so he could take a picture. Nice people everywhere.

Slowly the light grew dim. For 30 or 40 minutes the moon crept in the way of the sun. The penumbra casts a strange light as the umbra approaches. It advances slowly, you have to pay attention to perceive the dimming of light and cooling of your surroundings. The umbra, by contrast, is sudden and dramatic. If your looking at the sun (with NASA approved glasses, of course), that waning crescent is magically replaced with an engagement ring boasting the best diamond you ever saw. Then it winks out. Gone – totally dark. When you take off your glasses and look at the moon, that’s when you see the most amazing sight. The moon is surrounded by a halo: the sun’s corona. That the apparent size of the sun and moon are the same is a cosmic coincidence. It works out in our favor. Trust me, you have to see this.

During totality the sky is dark, but not really night dark. Not really dusk or dawn dark, either. It’s another kind of dark: eclipse dark. I saw stars and planets, but certainly not as many as a moonless night. The star of the show is that haloed moon. You only have a few minutes and you want to spend them all just looking at the moon. It’s beautiful. You may never see this again. But then you look at the horizon: it’s like a beautiful sunset all the way around – 360 degrees. Don’t miss this. And look at the people. They are truly awe struck – all of them. Young or old, busy or carefree, everyone is here for the same amazing reason: to witness this event.

It’s like a fair, but a glorious one. It’s like a wedding, where everyone is the special couple. It’s like a birthday party where we all share the single, wonderful gift. It’s a celebration of life, of world we share, of the brotherhood of man. You have to go. Take a day off. Drive for miles, fly if you have to.

When the sun winked out everyone cheered. I felt the urge to dance, which is very unusual. I’ve never danced, can’t do it anymore than cows can fly. Yet, for a brief moment I wanted to dance. I felt like I had arrived at that place in the forest where fairies appear with fireflies and toadstools. People smiled at each other. Strangers who’d never met were friends for a moment. Linda heard a girl from Japan say, “Isn’t it wonderful that we can all get together for this?” It is, truly wonderful. Battles have stopped during an eclipse.

Then it was over. The diamond appears on the other side of the ring. Daytime slowly returns and the heat of the day begins anew. The people all go home. The traffic wasn’t all that bad before the eclipse. After all, the eclipse crowd had trickled into town slowly, some arrived days before. But it seems like we all leave at once. There was, however, more patience than usual. You don’t always associate smiles with traffic jams. Passengers were still donning their eclipse glasses for one last look. Slowly we were all putting back on our normal personas. Everyone is going home, going back to work. And now they’re all on the interstate. Be careful everyone. God bless you.

City Life vs Country Life

As usual, I don’t really know what I’m talking about. Let me explain:

I grew up in the city. Well, not really. It was the suburbs of Dallas. But I left there in the early 70’s and never went back. So I guess I know what suburban life was like 45 years ago, but only the Dallas version, and I don’t have a clue what it’s like to live there today. I don’t have any idea at all what it’s like to live downtown, uptown, or around town. Don’t want to, either.

I now live in the country. Miles from anywhere, and the nearest “where” isn’t much of a town. Population about 1K and shrinking. The local economy has tanked and half of the houses are abandoned (WSJ says rural towns are the new inner city). But I’m doubtful most would think I live a country life. I don’t hunt, ride horses, hell… I don’t even listen to country music unless it’s forced on me. So how am I going to say anything relevant about city life vs country life?

Seems to me that it’s all about jobs, culture, and nature. That’s how people make the decision on where to live (a different perspective from the WSJ). Unless you were born into wealth, you have to work. I’ll be honest here: it seem like a shame that we have to work. My experience is that most people spend the major part of there life doing something that gives them no joy or sense of accomplishment, just to pay the bills, keep some food in the fridge, and hope for retirement. Then, if they live long enough and were lucky enough to save for it, by the time they retire it’s too late to enjoy it. By that time, they don’t remember how to do anything but work.

Don’t get me wrong, I grew up in a culture of work. Whether it makes any sense or not, I grew up believing that an honest man does an honest days’ work. Making money without work has always seemed dishonest to me – not much different from theft. And not working, not earning a living… well, that’s just wrong. I know, I know, it’s a crazy notion and nobody thinks that way anymore. I don’t even know where that attitude came from. My dad certainly never sat me down and had a talk about it. I guess I just picked it up by watching him and his friends. I never knew anyone that didn’t do physical, honest work. The few weeks in my life that I wasn’t working, I was looking for work. And that feeling – looking for a job when you don’t have one – that’s the worst. It makes me feel sick, worthless.

So that’s one thing I can say about the city: there’s plenty of jobs there. I can’t imagine any other reason to live in the city. You may not be able to find a job that pays as much as you think your worth, or that pays you for doing something you want to do, but if you can’t find work in the city it’s because you’re not looking. The philosophical question was always whether you must do what you love, or learn to love what you do. Whether work is a means to an end (the bills) or an end in itself (a fulfilling life experience). But, people make a living in the country too, right?

Here’s what I miss about the city: culture. I miss the symphony, art museums and galleries, gardens and parks, theater and music concerts, and I miss the architecture. I was a season subscriber to the Dallas Symphony Orchestra for the last two years I lived there. I was the weird longhaired kid in jeans when everyone else dressed formally. But I wore my best jeans and I appreciated the beauty of the performance as much as anyone. I was in awe most of the time. I heard music that was majestic and mathematically perfect, that lifted the soul or pulled at your heart, that took you to places you never knew existed. From Bach to Barton, I am so glad I had the chance to experience it and I miss it so much. And beyond the symphony hall, the music was everywhere: the university , the park, street performers. You don’t hear many classical performances in small town Oklahoma. Well, none really. We have the All-Night Gospel Singing, but I must confess the I’ve never attended. And listening to recordings or broadcasts as not the same as sitting in the presence of master musicians. People say, “You don’t like country music?” and look at me like I’m from Mars.

I miss the art museum. I miss all museums, but the art museum was my favorite. It’s incredible, unbelievable what artists have been able to do. At first I was just impressed with how they could record, interpret, and portray what they saw. And often they portrayed the grandest events, places, and persons. Art can transport you to another place and time. As I grew older, I realized that, for me, the best art wasn’t just photographic realism, epic subject matter, or mastery of technique or medium. What I appreciate the most is the art work that moves me, that elicits an emotion, that makes me laugh or draws a tear, that makes me think “I bet that guy was a character” or “That kid must have been obnoxious.” I love the landscape that actually makes you sit down and feel the peace and majesty – the still life that makes you look up close and think “How is that even possible?” In the country, art masters are hard to come by. I doodle a little myself, but it’s an exercise in humility. The sort of thing you look at later and say, “What was that, anyway?” or “Burn that immediately.”

Culture, by definition, is what grows from a group of people living together. I just felt smothered by the crowds. The general density of humanity became more than I could bear. Growing up in the suburbs, I found that what I enjoyed most was going outside. I loved riding my bike, then motorcycle, around the neighborhood, rural roads, or the trails that kids made in undeveloped areas, too full of creeks and hills for easy house development. Parks and botanical gardens were so much better than the boxes we lived. Then I got a job with the park department driving a tractor and mowing grass. This was a great job. I was outside all the time. I could see what I accomplished immediately and that felt far better to me than my previous jobs of washing dishes, delivering papers, packing merchandise in boxes, or painting. I knew what my responsibilities were and as long as I got them done, no one was badgering me or watching over my shoulder. I was in the sun, in the trees, with the birds, and it seemed so much more genuine than any job I’d had before. Just one problem: the pay was peanuts. Isn’t that always the way?

This thought had been growing in my soul for a long time – I had to escape. There had to be a way for me to make a living outside of the city. In my third year of college I had a bit of a meltdown. I was taking too many hard courses at the same time at UT Austin and not being very successful at any of them. And I had my heart broken. I dropped out in the middle of a semester and took what turned into a year long sabbatical, most of it living in a tent in a pasture, hauling hay every day – from oat straw through peanut hay. I had a Bible, a cot and folding Camp stool, a hammock, a lantern, and a 5-gallon water cooler. I had made it to the country life. When winter came I went back to the park department and planted trees, picked up litter and read a pocket New Testament. The next semester I was ready to finish school, but I picked a smaller college in a smaller town. Good choice for me. I also lived friends in a country farm house and planted a huge garden. The escape was complete.

Now I live in the woods, seven miles from our little town, three and a half miles down a gravel county road, in a house you can’t even see from that seldom traveled road. It’s quiet. We spend a lot of time on the porch and feed the fish in our pond. Maybe someday they’ll feed us. Our visitors are deer, turkey, owls, and the occasional neighbor’s cows. Every time I go outside I see something else that needs doing. I have a wood shop, a garden, a tractor, and a job in town. Life is good.

We still go to the city. This summer, Linda and I spent a week in Baltimore while I attended a conference. I really liked the people we met, the art museums, the tours, the water taxi, and the pubs. But I knew I’d be going back home soon. I can take density in small doses. We go to Oklahoma City for doctors or shopping, to see a musical or the zoo. When we’ve spent time in downtown St. Louis or Chicago, I watch the people who live there and wonder what their lives must be like. And I frankly have no idea, but I wasn’t miserable when I lived in the burbs – I simply longed for something else. Something quieter and slower. Our last two kids, growing up in the country feel deprived of the shiny wonders of city life and culture. Both of them plan to move to the city as soon as possible. So I guess it will soon be even quieter and slower out here. The cycle continues.

So I recognize that I really don’t know either one, the city life or the country life, as most folks envision them. I’m probably an outsider anywhere I go. But that’s okay. I like it outside.

Thoughts on a Bucket List

I have received many wonderful gifts in my life. Christmas, my birthday, father’s day: just in these last few months I’ve been given a motion detector for my gate, a 100 ft. laser measure, and a bucket list – bucket included. Now, sadly, I haven’t used any of these gifts yet. My wife, Linda, told me the other day that we need to get rid of some things we don’t use and threatened to give away my bucket. But it’s the bucket list I’m thinking about now — why is it that we feel the need for a bucket list.

Matthew 26:31-36 Living Bible (TLB)

31 Then Jesus said to them, “Tonight you will all desert me. For it is written in the Scriptures that God will smite the Shepherd, and the sheep of the flock will be scattered. 32 But after I have been brought back to life again, I will go to Galilee and meet you there.”

33 Peter declared, “If everyone else deserts you, I won’t.”

34 Jesus told him, “The truth is that this very night, before the cock crows at dawn, you will deny me three times!”

35 “I would die first!” Peter insisted. And all the other disciples said the same thing.

36 Then Jesus brought them to a garden grove, Gethsemane, and told them to sit down and wait while he went on ahead to pray.

What a scene this is: we all know the events that led up to this declaration. The disciples had already seen with their own eyes, heard with their own ears, proof that Jesus was The Messiah. He had already taught them his message and shown them miracles.

Who could know better than Peter that this Jesus he’s been following is, indeed, the Son of God, the Messiah. When Jesus speaks, you’d do well to listen. But, no — not even Peter, after all he has seen and learned. He is certain that Jesus is wrong. Peter thinks he is better than this — stronger.

And we all know what follows. Peter, James, and John could not stay awake during Jesus’ anguished prayers. After Jesus is arrested, Peter denies Him, just as foretold. Jesus is crucified, but he rises again and meets them in Galilee, just as he said he would.

For as long as there have been people, there has been a struggle with the meaning of life. Babies are born without an instruction manual, we grow up without a map of our destiny, despite all those paths that are thrust before us. We all want to do something meaningful before we die. We don’t want to miss the mark, even if we don’t know where the mark lies.

The meaning of life — it seems so veiled, so hidden, and it hurts to search for it. What is it? Does it even exist? How will I know it, even if I find it? How do you go about searching for meaning in your life?

There is no shortage of suggestions for what you should do with your life, lots of people are ready to tell you what you should be doing, in fact, they demand it. We want to believe them. They seem so sincere. But be wary, you get but one chance at choosing your path in this life.  

Last week, the minister of my church gave us a message that “the mind is a terrible thing to waste.” He told us that the mind-set of the flesh is death and the mind-set of the Spirit is life and peace. He talked about stark opposition. That’s what I remember: stark opposition. Recognizing pride, putting others first. “He who loves his father and mother more than me is not worthy of me.” And then there was this: “What you do for the least of these, you do for me.”

Which brings me to the topic of stark opposition: Mercy, Charity, Pride, and Vanity.

Let’s start with mercy. “Compassion or forbearance shown to one having no claim to kindness.” In other words, if you can’t feel compassion (that is, sorrow or pity aroused by the suffering or misfortune of another) then at the very least, forbear them (that is, control yourself, be patient, refrain from causing even more suffering).

Think of a time when Jesus showed mercy.

Did you think of the adulterous woman and the religious leaders that demanded Jesus say what should be done with her? Weird, wasn’t it, how he stooped down and doodled in the dirt? But then he said, “Alright… but let the one among you who has never sinned cast the first stone.” They all left and even though Jesus did not condone sin, neither did he condemn the sinner.

Or did you think of the answer Jesus gave to Peter when asked, “How many times do I have to forgive my brother when he sins against me? Up to seven times?” Jesus answered him with a parable instead, about the master who called in his servant who owed him a debt he could not pay. “You wicked servant. I cancelled all your debt because you asked me to. Shouldn’t you have had mercy on your fellow servant just as I had on you?”

Or maybe you remembered the story Jesus told about the self-righteous Pharisee and the tax collector? The first boasted in prayer about all the wonderful things he had done, but the tax collector merely said, “Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner.” And Jesus then told the disciples that the tax collector was the one that returned home forgiven.

Don’t we all ask the Lord for mercy in our prayers? But do we reflect that mercy in our daily walk? Is mercy to be found in our decisions, our dealing with subordinates, our position on policy and politics. When we see someone who has “no claim to kindness”, do we feel compassion and forbearance?

What does mercy have to do with Matthew 26? Jesus knows that the disciples will desert him, but he mercifully explains the situation to them without condemnation. Then he says, “I’ll see you in Galilee.”

Sometimes I think the entire Old Testament is a lesson in how men try to earn God’s favor by unerringly following his commandments and how they always fail. Even the best examples of God’s human servants are spiked with failure and, sometimes, horrifying acts of sin. And the New Testament is a lesson in God’s mercy to all of us sinners.

What does the word charity bring to your mind?

For most of us, it would be that charity was a tax-deduction Or perhaps that it was a special kind of gift?

Charity is first and foremost the love you show to your fellow human beings: your love for others. The second meaning is kindness in judging others. I’m not making this up. These are the definitions I found in the Merriam Webster’s School Dictionary. It’s only the third and last definition that says, the giving of aid to the poor and suffering. But if you are charitable, you give these gifts because you love the person you are giving the gifts to, because you don’t judge them. In philosophy, charity is giving with no expectation of receiving anything in return.

So, what do you recall that Jesus taught us about charity?

Did you think of Luke 21, where Jesus sees the rich putting their gifts in the offering box and a widow puts in two copper coins? And he said, “Truly, I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all of them. For they all contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty put in all she had to live on.”

Ayn Rand, who planted the seed that grew into today’s Libertarian philosophy, disdains charity. She wrote, “My views on charity are very simple. I do not consider it a major virtue and, above all, I do not consider it a moral duty. There is nothing wrong in helping other people, if and when they are worthy of the help and you can afford to help them. I regard charity as a marginal issue. What I am fighting is the idea that charity is a moral duty and a primary virtue.” I don’t believe Ayn Rand even had a dictionary, but her view appears to be a cornerstone of modern politics. It must be hard to be a politician and a follower of Christ.

What am I saying? It’s hard for me to be a follower of Christ. I’m a terrible example. In Luke, Jesus assures his disciples, saying, “Fear not, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom. Sell your possessions, and give to the needy. Provide yourselves with moneybags that do not grow old, with a treasure in the heavens that does not fail, where no thief approaches and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.” I’m no better than the politicians. I try to balance giving and receiving, but it all ends up as receiving. God help me.

Jesus was charitable to His disciples. Jesus loved them, He was kind in judging them. He knew they were unprepared for what was about to happen that night in Gethsemane and the next day. He told them what would happen and when Peter failed to believe him, he gave him evidence so that Peter could not overlook his failure and would be strengthened by it. He told the disciples that their desertion had been preordained. He did not condemn them.

Zechariah 13

“Awake, sword, against my shepherd,
against the man who is close to me!”
declares the Lord Almighty.
“Strike the shepherd,
and the sheep will be scattered,
and I will turn my hand against the little ones.

If I asked you what charity brings to mind, would you think about Matthew 6?  The verse where Jesus cautioned, “Thus, when you give to the needy, sound no trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, that they may be praised by others.”

Now, let’s consider the other side of that stark opposition, starting with pride. What is pride? Pride means you are being proud. The opposite of humility. Pride is excessive self-esteem: conceit. But it can also mean a reasonable or justifiable self-respect: as in “The Pride of Konawa”. There is nothing wrong with being glad Konawa has a good band. In our context, however, of the lessons Jesus taught us: pride means pleasure or satisfaction taken in some act, accomplishment, or possession. And this kind of pride is dangerous and separates us from God. How can you let the Spirit into your life until you have cleaned out all the things you’ve stuff it with?

What does Jesus teach us about pride?

Back to that story about the Pharisee praying in the temple about all his good deeds, so thankful that he wasn’t like that sinful tax collector. I think Jesus wanted his disciples to know that it was the Pharisee’s pride that tripped him up. The prideful have no need of a God who wishes for us to seek humility.

Jesus said, “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” The “poor in spirit” are those who recognize their utter spiritual bankruptcy and their inability to come to God aside from his divine grace. We are not to boast about ourselves. In 2 Corinthians we read, “Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord.” So proclaim the glories of God and try to be quiet about yourself. Pride is giving ourselves credit for something that God has accomplished — taking the glory that belongs to God and keeping it for ourselves. Pride is self-worship. In James, we read “Humble yourself before the Lord, and he will exalt you.”

So what caused Peter to say, “If everyone else deserts you, I won’t” ? He was sure of himself. He is standing there, face to face with God incarnate. And he doesn’t believe Him. He believes in himself more than he believes Jesus. Now, if Peter, a disciple, a man who had Jesus as a personal guide and tutor, cannot conquer his pride, how can I? I cannot — but through the grace of God.

And, finally, what is vanity? Well, being vain of course. And vain means worthless, vain means not succeeding, futile. And vain means conceited, proud of one’s looks or abilities. So vanity can mean an empty or worthless state; a state of futility; or an inflated pride in oneself or one’s appearance.

We all know the commandment “Thou shalt not use the Lord’s name in vain” but exactly what is that warning us not to do. When I was kid, if somebody cussed, an adult was sure to say “don’t use the Lord’s name in vain” so I just figured it meant not to cuss. Well, I’m afraid that missed the mark. If fact, we tend to dismiss the significance of this commandment. Does it bother you a little to hear OMG all the time? It seems that God wants us to be aware of what comes out of our mouth. God dealt harshly with prophets who falsely said they were speaking the words of the Lord. Telling someone you are doing something for the Lord, when it’s really for you, or telling someone that it’s God’s will when it really your will — this is literally using the Lord’s name in vain. We make many covenants with the Lord, we swear many vows: marriage vows, our duties as public servants, ordination vows. God wants us to keep our vows. God opposes perjury.

Matthew, chapter 5, quotes Jesus as saying, “Again, you have heard that it was said to the people long ago, ‘Do not break your oath, but keep the oaths you have made to the Lord.’ But I tell you, Do not swear at all: either by heaven, for it is God’s throne; or by the earth, for it is his footstool; or by Jerusalem, for it is the city of the Great King. And do not swear by your head, for you cannot make even one hair white or black. Simply let your ‘Yes’ be ‘Yes,’ and your ‘No ,’ ‘No’; anything beyond this comes from the evil one”

What about prayer? Are we aware of the holiness of God’s name when we start off a prayer, “Dear Lord, please help me with” and then we have a shopping list of things we want God to do for us? It’s almost like we start prayer with “Dear Lord” because we think we need to get his attention. Get his attention so he can hear what we want. In vain. Jesus was asked to teach us how we should pray and he immediately warned against making vain repetitions. Then Jesus said, when we pray it should be something like this: “Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name…”

I fear that using God’s name in vanity couldn’t be better illustrated than in a recent story about how two televangelists defended their use of private jets as a luxury means of travel, arguing that commercial planes are full of “a bunch of demons” that will bog down their busy schedules with prayer requests. Really? That just makes me so sad…

It was in vain that Peter and the other disciples said, “I would die first.” I pray that I don’t live my life in vain. See, that’s the deal with looking for the meaning of life. Without meaning, it’s all in vain. Our bucket will be remain empty. If I had to set down in words today what I believe to be the meaning of life, it is to serve. And by serving: to learn, love, and grow closer to God. So now I’m back to where I started, the same verse of stark opposition that Brother Steve used last week:

Matthew 25:31- English Standard Version (ESV)

“When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on his glorious throne. Before him will be gathered all the nations, and he will separate people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. And he will place the sheep on his right, but the goats on the left. Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me,  I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.’ Then the righteous will answer him, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? And when did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? And when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?’  And the King will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.’

“Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels.  For I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me no drink,  I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not clothe me, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.’ Then they also will answer, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not minister to you?’ Then he will answer them, saying, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.’ And these will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life.”

If you have to separate your business from service to God, you’re in the wrong business. If you have to separate your politics from your service to God, you’re in the wrong party. If you aren’t called to be merciful, to grant charity, to defeat your pride, and to overcome your vanity: if you aren’t compelled to the service of God, then you’re in the wrong religion.

 

Why I Am Not a Libertarian

Because the philosophy is based upon self instead of others.

I’ve read the libertarian party platform and the writings of many libertarians. A common theme in the libertarian rhetoric is devotion to the ideals expressed by novelist Ayn Rand. Fans and devotes of Ayn Rand have created a movement advocating and teaching Objectivism. If you are interested in this movement, I would refer you to the Atlas Society. I’m not a fan. In fact, it scares me to death. Objectivism is a philosophy, begun by Ayn Rand in her novels and essays, which holds that there is “no greater moral goal than achieving happiness“. In the appendix of “Atlas Shrugged”, Ayn Rand stated:

My philosophy, in essence, is the concept of man as a heroic being, with his own happiness as the moral purpose of his life, with productive achievement as his noblest activity, and reason as his only absolute.

This this talk of self makes me think of the Beatles song, “I Me Mine“. It’s human nature to put self first, a survival instinct, but that doesn’t improve the taste.

How is Objectivism related to the Libertarian Party? While not the same (Objectivism is a moral philosophy and Libertarianism is a political philosophy), they are strongly matched. This relationship is clarified by the Atlas Society website’s Q&A section:

Libertarianism is the political position that all human relationships should be voluntary, i.e. not subject to the initiation of force by another person. Inasmuch as this is also part of the Objectivist politics, Objectivism is a libertarian philosophy. Not all libertarian thinking is compatible with Objectivism, and some libertarians promote philosophical ideas that would destroy liberty if put into practice, such as skepticism, ethical subjectivism, and anarchism. But the libertarian movement in general is a positive force for political change, one to which Objectivists have valuable moral and epistemological knowledge to contribute and one from which Objectivists can learn about the politics, economics, and history of freedom.

The Libertarian Party was founded in 1971, the year I graduated from high school. WikiPedia states that “The founding of the party was prompted in part due to concerns about the Nixon administration, the Vietnam War, conscription, and the end of the gold standard.” This was also a time when Atlas Shrugged and The Fountainhead were very popular among readers disgruntled the American government.

Because the goals of the libertarian platform are to eliminate all government services except the military and to privatize everything else: health care, education, corrections… everything.

Let’s just consider one case to illustrate why this is a problem: private prisons. We were sold on this privatization by legislators who told us we can afford to build more prisons. What does the corporate prison have as a goal? Profit, of course. If that profit comes at a cost of the safety or health of the prisoners, so what, right? They shouldn’t have broken the law. Few if any will complain. Then then corporate prison begins to import prisoners from other states that will pay more and to refuse more prisoners from the states that authorized them. Next they start lobbying to make more and longer offenses carry prison terms. See a problem yet?

Because it requires that we put our faith in the compassion of corporations which is generally non-exsistent.

While earning my masters degree, I learned that business professors believe that corporations are formed to limit personal liability and the sole purpose of a corporation is to increase shareholder wealth. Both of these points illustrate why you cannot rely on a corporate benevolence. We have labor protection laws and environmental regulations for a reason: because corporations have exploited people and the environment in the past and we have had to fight to reign them in. The struggle continues.

Because it is diametrically opposed to the function of governance: which is to collectively do for the people those things that they cannot do individually.

Why do people live together in a community instead of as isolated family units? Why do we have cities, countries, and governments? Because it enables us to specialize and achieve efficiencies of economy and ultimately lessens the demands of survival, enabling us free time to pursue interests like art, science, sports, and even blogs. When I was in high school, courses were offered in subjects that are not common today. I remember my “Problems of Democracy” teacher defining the role of government in a democracy as doing things collectively for people that cannot be accomplished as individuals. He cited examples such as medical research, space exploration, economic reconstruction, national defense, and public education.

This idea is not just an idle opinion of my high school teacher. In the Official Record of the Debates of the National Austrialasian Convention in Sydney, held in 1891, Sir Samuel Griffith proposes “the separate states are to continue as autonomous bodies, surrendering only so much of their powers as is necessary to the establishment of a general government to do for them collectively what they cannot do individually for themselves.”

The Zoning Plan for Akron in 1919 stated “The enactment of a zoning ordinance is an exercise of the community power. It is the action of the people collectively, through their duly constituted representatives, to do for themselves what the cannot do individually.”

The function of government is described by Murphy, Wood, and Ackerman in “The Housing Famine: How to End It” as “In a democracy, government action is the action of people collectively. They do collectively the things the cannot do, or cannot do so well, individually”.

An article in “The Economist” even defined this as the role of a company: “The point of companies is to get people to achieve collectively what they cannot do individually”

Because I believe in the teaching of Jesus Christ which command that we are to love, to serve, and to be charitable.

USA Today published a column, “You Can’t Reconcile Ayn Rand and Jesus” that quotes Ayn’s position on faith:

when asked by Playboy magazine whether religion “ever offered anything of constructive value to human life” she answered “no,” adding that “faith, as such, is extremely detrimental to human life.

And because the alter of the libertarian, the corporation, has but a single purpose: “to increase shareholder wealth.”