Showing posts with label child advocacy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label child advocacy. Show all posts

Saturday, February 17, 2018

Speaking for Myself: I Do Not Want to Carry a Gun in My Classroom

Another school shooting.  More children and school staff dead.  Video and audio footage of witnesses, survivors, bereaved families, and distraught first responders play on a loop.

Sidebar arguments repeat on television, radio and social media.  Readers, callers, watchers hung up on semantics, the rights of gun owners, misleading headlines, and blame, none of which help the dead, none of which help future victims.  It's not real discourse.  It's slurry.

Memes call for love, demand that teachers carry guns, and fill the screen with lots of American flags, gun-toting patriots, and child-sized coffins.  Political cartoons feature past victims welcoming present heroes, with lots of extra room for the future results of gun violence in Heaven.  Reruns of cartoons depict teachers shielding children from shooters, scenes which never feature background details such as student artwork, projects, math manipulatives, maps, posters, monkey bars, beanbags or copies of Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See or history books.  Never band instruments, lunch boxes, bike helmets or graffiti-covered folders.  Nothing to illustrate the child's world that exists within a school.  Nothing to convey the comfort of routine, nothing capturing the excitement of being the star helper, line leader, yearbook editor, or debate team captain. No drawings of the bravery required and demonstrated when reaching out for the monkey bars or reciting lines from a play for the first time.  No renderings of the exuberant smiles or furrowed brows worn as students concentrate on their explorations and learning. No sketches of them reading together, encouraging one another, collaborating, singing, dancing or soaking up life. It's a noticeable lack of representation of the thoughts, feelings and experiences that children ought to have in school, the environment that is their home away from home.

Except now there is live streaming.  Students interviewing students.  Teens, whose lives are in danger, tweeting, calling, texting in real time.  If the loss of life touches some part of your soul, the documentary testimony and journalistic recordings made by students will likely leave you feeling shattered and guilty.  And they should.  Children, innocents, are being shot at.  They are dying.  They are covered in the blood of their friends, mentors and teachers.  They're walking around and through it.  And they know we're watching. They know we're watching when we're supposed to be DOING something. They have come to understand that we're not in the mood to hold ourselves accountable, to do our jobs as parents, guardians, advocates, protectors.  We're shopping for bulletproof liners for backpacks as if our consumerism is our only way to solve this problem, asking Julia and Joaquin if they'd like the pink one or the gray one.  They know what we're implying: we're going to continue to send them to a place where it is becoming more likely they will be shot by someone who should not have a gun.  And though we're being judged fairly, few of us seem ashamed. Self-righteousness is more addictive and rewarding than responsibility.  Too many are inclined to simply express "thoughts and prayers" ad nauseam.  The survivors who scream "KEEP YOUR FUCKING PRAYERS, DO SOMETHING" aren't being disrespectful. Who, other than the hero, is truly worthy of their respect at this point?

I will only speak for myself: I do not want to carry a gun in my classroom.  I do not want to store a firearm in my students' learning space "just in case." I do not happen to believe that the only way to deal with violence is with more violence, weapons with more weapons.  Imagining a gun in my hand within the classroom that I have purposely created and maintained as a safe place for kindergartners, colleagues, and friends of education makes me ill.  I'm no coward, and I'm not a glorified babysitter, soldier, or police officer either.  I am a professional educator who happens to think that far too many of my fellow Americans are performing the gun lobby's sales pitch like puppets, either out of laziness or some misconstrued impression that their "freedoms" are being trampled upon, making the protection of their guns more of a priority than the protection of their children. Cowards are people who throw their hands into the air insisting that there's only ever one solution, intent on committing themselves and the rest of us to horrific outcomes. Too many armchair teachers, administrators, and criminologists willfully refuse to allow themselves to realize that students are exposed en masse throughout every school day, not just when they're "safe" inside a building. They ignore the bus line, football field, the outdoor gardens, parking lot, class registration, recess, sporting events, prom and club activities. They inqure about our schools, ooh and ahh over the metal detectors and armed guard located at the entrance (and not any of the other doors) choosing to ignore that on one day or several, students completing a school service activity or a teacher moving his or her belongings into the building or a parent volunteer will leave an exterior door open, or the A/C will give out on an extremely hot day and someone or many someones will open their windows, or the guard will be living in the restroom thanks to the barrage of germs that attack every newbie. It is because of human nature that both our "secure" systems are never 100% effective, and our peace of mind, if assured with all sorts of gadgetry and alarms, is repeatedly reinforced by thinking that we've done enough to protect ourselves and our children.

We haven't.

"TEACHERS SHOULD BE ARMED! THAT'LL SOLVE THE PROBLEM, BY GOD!" "If a shooter makes the mistake of entering my child's classroom, the teacher can prevent or end a bloodbath!" Folks, the only "winners" in this scenario are the gun manufacturers. Instead of regulating guns, they'd very much like to encourage the purchase of more.  Instead of preventing guns from getting into the hands of those inclined to use them for violence, they want everyone packing.  And because they've somehow gotten a significant percentage of the populace to forget that we're actually capable of solving exceptionally difficult problems without bloodshed, many folks have convinced themselves that my job is to reenact some Shootout at the O.K. Corral scenario, completely disregarding every child's right to learn, grow and thrive in a safe and shielded environment.  "Instead of one gun, there should be multiple guns in schools" is not a reasonable standard to which any of us should allow districts to aspire.  I refuse to drink the snake-oil being peddled by the gun lobby, and I refuse to accept that one day, a Super Star will have to depict me holding anything other than a book, cup of coffee or THEIR hands in mine:



If we ever needed a paradigm shift, now's the time.

Saturday, June 27, 2015

Every Student Deserves Representation and Safety


I believe teachers' responses near and far to both yesterday's SCOTUS decision and recent news that increased awareness of transgender issues will be the ultimate litmus tests for many in the profession, stretching the patience and tolerance of those with whom they work. Some might consider it the height of professionalism to "leave well enough alone" or "keep your mouth shut," but student advocacy, not just instruction, is part of our responsibility.  In the search for age-appropriate books to add to my class library, I came across a thread on social media where veteran teachers were asserting how they weren't going to read "filth"/"this material" to their students, such as storybooks that include characters who dress in gender-opposite clothing or have two mothers, even if there is a student (or students) in their classroom who has same-sex parents or demonstrates gender fluidity (like many do in kindergarten). 

If "this material," meaning storybooks that illustrate the diversity represented by families, doesn't belong in the classroom and in the hands of our youngest learners who are likely to witness, if not experience these and many other social changes firsthand, then how will students learn to adapt, behave, interpret, and hopefully positively impact the world around them?  How are they to feel safe within their classrooms, schools, and neighborhoods? How are children from more traditional family arrangements supposed to learn about and practice respectful behaviors if they can't ask the questions they're bound to want to every time they encounter something new to them?  Some teachers in the post I stumbled across were advocating for a return to the "good ol' days" of reading, writing and arithmetic, and ignoring "the sick behavior" they find so disgusting.  These folks are oblivious to the fact that change and diversity are the rules on this planet, NOT the exceptions.  Are we to deny our students access to literature portraying biracial or bicultural families, or media that includes images of those suffering from handicapping conditions, or the death of a family member because a teacher thinks they're icky or the topic makes them uncomfortable?  Do we have the right to deny each student supportive representation and the feeling of belonging?  Teachers should not contribute to the idea that some children are less deserving or less human because of the decisions that their parents, in whatever arrangement they're presented make, or because of which gender each child might identify with.  Teachers should commit to the emotional and physical safety of our students and their families without thinking that our opinion regarding issues OTHER than abuse and neglect are in any way our business.  The love and care between parents and children and teachers and classmates has nothing to do with promoting sexuality.  I weep for the children who have to face a "trusted adult" in the classroom who looks at them or their families with an expression of disgust.

It's imperative for those who have chosen to work in the arena of public education to remember who they serve: the public, not just select members of that neighborhood or community. If your upbringing, belief system, sense of entitlement, or even gag reflex prevent you from giving each and every student your best, consider a change in venue. Find support and employment in a like-minded private school, or open your own. You'll be doing yourself, and many children a favor.

*****
I found the following books on Amazon.com- do you know of any others?  Link me up in the comments.















Saturday, February 11, 2012

Teacher Reflection: Gratitude, Guilt, and Relief

I mentioned back in the earlier days of this blog that I'm a teacher with multiple schools, districts, and states under my experience belt.  My life as a military spouse has given me the opportunity to travel from my home state of Alaska (first teaching job), with districts in New Mexico and Kansas thankfully hiring me to continue working with kindergartners as our family relocates to and from each duty station.  Uncle Sam will have less say in our travel plans at the end of this school year when my husband retires.  We've bought a home, and will stay in Oz.

My very first class of Super Stars will be graduating from college this year.  Several have started families of their own.  I am incredibly proud of their accomplishments, and grateful to be remembered by the young adults that have evolved from the cherubic little faces I see when I revisit my yearbooks.  Let's face it, kindergarten is a grade full of memories furthest away from a college graduation date, and yet the Stars remember Show and Share.  They remember Fairy Tale Dress Up Day.  They remember how I "did the voices" during storytime.  

It's sweet and heartwarming, but there are other memories that still knock the wind out of me.  One Star, a victim of family abuse, remembers how he stopped being scared of grown-ups when he met me.  Another remembers how when the Troopers would take him from his home because of yet another domestic disturbance, he knew he'd still get to have cereal once the police brought him to my classroom.  Yet another Star figured out years later that the Sock and Shoe Fairy was really me.

Perhaps it's been luck that I haven't had a tough-case-kid for the past few years.  I've certainly had students with special or exceptional needs, but their parents have partnered with me, learning, sharing, debating, and advocating for their children.  Visiting the blogs of many early childhood and elementary colleagues, I've read about their burdens, difficulties, triumphs, successes, and heartbreak.  I remember those days.  I sympathize, but I also feel something akin to what I can only describe as some sort of survivor's guilt: these exemplary teachers are not only exceptional in their pedagogy, but in their humanitarianism... meanwhile I have been insulated from daily trials such as theirs for three years now.  I've lost sleep due to general insomnia or concern over my husband's deployments, but not over students.

Until last night.  It's been years since I've had to push for a parent teacher conference. Years since I've had to gently but firmly advocate for a student and his/her siblings by way of suggesting parenting classes, food choices, or changes in the home routine that would impact hygiene.  Years since I've had to consider calling in the big guns.  Years since I've danced in the them-versus-us arena.

My survivor's guilt is oddly paired with relief.  The script for this student and this family is still stored within me.  It flowed from my mouth yesterday as colleagues created a plan to come to the aide of children who need us for more than reading, writing, math, and social skills.  I lost sleep last night as the scripted machinery whirled back to life inside my brain, helping me generate ideas for how we'll advocate for our students, document our efforts, and track what we hope will be changes for the better.

I've still got it.  

And I still hate having to use it.


Thursday, August 12, 2010

Diversity of Talent

Regular visitors to my blog know that Sir Ken is one of my favorite thinkers...

Here's why:



"Human communities depend upon a diversity of talent, not a singular conception of ability."

He's wonderful.  He's brilliant.

He's right.

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

I Miss Mr. Rogers

SpeakerSue shared this on her blog, but I had to share it here just for the sheer child advocacy of it all in regard to what our children see and think about when they watch television and movies today. Mr. Rogers is speaking before the Senate in this video, regarding funding for PBS, seven months before I was born: